CHAPTER NINE
M y head’s a billow of thoughts as I press my back into the small cushion between me and my new wicker chair. I look to the right, where my smoothie sits, flexing my wrists up and down, stretching out the slight kink. I watch the condensation slide down my glass, pooling at the base, thankful for the matching bamboo coasters I sprang for. My drink has gone from a bright shade of purple to a questionable brown color.
I’ve been writing all morning, neglecting my breakfast, in a writing whirlwind.
I feel a pit in my stomach. Nerves. I’m writing about my real life, about the people I’m going on dates with. Obviously, I won’t use their real names or anything - just my experiences. Still, my stomach feels like it is twisting inside.
I spoke with Miriam yesterday. She is expecting my draft by the end of the week.
Bob jumps up onto my desk and walks across to my glass, sniffing it. I pick him up and put him back on the floor.
I unplug my laptop and take it to the couch. I lift my legs up and tuck them underneath me. I karate chop the pillow beside me, getting comfortable so I can read through my draft.
Excitement takes over the nerves - for now.
Two hours later, I attached my draft, a recap of the past few days, and hit send.
I take a sip of my brown-colored smoothie and make a face. I walk to the kitchen to pour it out, trying to force the tiny bits of banana down the drain with my straw.
I go to my room and let my body fall onto my bed, face first. Thankfully, I have an obscene amount of pillows to break my fall and not my face. My eyes feel heavy. I feel Bob jump onto my bed, walking over me, stepping his heavy little toes across the backs of my thighs to plop down next to me.
I feel myself drifting. I have about two hours before I need to be at work. I have time for a nap.
I call out right before falling into dreamland, “Alexa, set an alarm for thirty minutes.”
* * *
Ben is looking at me, his eyes twinkling, our fingers intertwined as we walk down the beach. Sand tickles in between my toes as my feet pad through the thick, warm, golden beach.
He stops unexpectedly, which pulls me back to him. I bump into his side. He lets go of my hand, turning me to face him.
There’s quite a difference in height between him and me. The top of my head is inches from the bottom of his chin. I tilt my head upwards. Gazing over me, a smirk is displayed across his lips.
His touch sends a chill down my body despite the warm air. Goosebumps rise on my forearms. He lifts his hand, grazing the side of my face with a gentle caress until his hand comes around the back of my neck, scooping up my disheveled, wind-blown hair in the palm of his hand as he presses firmly against the back of my head.
I hear a dog bark in the distance.
The sound of waves crashing, seagulls calling out.
I hear these sounds, but it feels like we are the only ones on this beach.
He leans towards me, his breath so close to mine that I can feel the warmth and smell the peppermint off his breath.
My heart is racing. He’s looking at me, meeting my eyes with a longing I can’t ignore. I feel it inside my body. I lift up onto my tiptoes, which only makes me sink further into the sand. I can’t quite reach him.
Our lips hover millimeters away from each other.
A truck is backing up somewhere.. beep, beep, beep. My thoughts become distracted. Beep, beep, beep. Why is there a garbage truck on the beach? The sound is blaring louder now. Beep, beep, beep.
I startle awake, my skin damp. Beep, beep, beep. I hear the sound of my alarm going off.
“Alexa, turn off the alarm.”
I roll over, sticking to the sheets on my bed.
What in the actual cheese and crackers was that!?