19. Chapter 19 #2
“Oh, I was asking if it’s all right if he comes to dinner with my family tomorrow?
He had a lot of fun last week, and he said he asked you earlier, but you didn’t say anything.
” I reply as we make eye contact for the first time in the last few minutes.
Something about the way he looks at me makes my heart pang.
I flash back to the day we first met, and that small flicker of something returns for a split second. It’s a flicker of sadness in him at the mention of my family. I want to ask, but it disappears as quickly as it came, hiding behind his usual frown.
“Of course. He’s not been able to stop talking about you or your folks all day, so I think he’ll enjoy that.” he nods, masking his emotions.
“I have a ton of work to catch up tomorrow anyway, so it’ll be nice to have the house to myself,” he states confidently but something tells me he wants the absolute opposite, though it might make Gran keel over, I think about inviting him to family dinner as no one should eat alone, even if they just accused me of being a homewrecker, but he bombards me with questions so I don’t have a chance to offer.
“So, help me understand something. You spend all week taking care of Theo, already a kind of exhaustion, but then you spend your only rest days going to a care home.” He asks, sounding as confused as he looks.
“Yeah.” I nod; he isn’t the first person to question my efforts towards Tracy and the children.
“Why?” he asks, but for some reason it doesn’t sound condescending or as if he’s treating me like I’m stupid for doing this, unlike someone from my past. I take a beat to stare at him, then shuffle into a new position and explain.
“Because I know what it’s like to be abandoned, because I like to help.
Because I believe that all children deserve to know that they are loved and cherished, that no matter what frightening thing they’ve had to endure, the world doesn’t hate them and that they have every right to be in it as everyone else. ” I recite.
I go on to tell Surly Bastard a little bit about how I met Tracy through my grandma back when I was searching for work experience back in Year Ten. When I don’t realise how long I sit there talking about my devotion to the children.
What surprised me more was that Surly Bastard stomached me enough to listen to every word. Even when I halt my words and look at him, his whole facial expression had somehow gotten softer and dare I say he was looking at me with such delicacy.
My heart starts to hammer against my ribcage, getting louder each time, and his gaze is causing me to feel so warm inside. I’m tempted to say that Surly Bastard and I are having a moment.
Nothing sexual or anything like that, but it feels like we’re bonding. Our eyes lock, his searching through my soul like a Sunday morning, and mine, feeling as if I’m finally getting an insight into Surly Bastard really is and why he’s so adamant about hiding it away.
The room is quiet, and yet I can feel the pulse in my ear thumping so loudly, it sounds like drums. The world is still, but the room feels like it’s spinning.
My body tingles at the touch of his hand on my forearm…w-wait?
W-when did his arm get there?
I ask myself, but before I can get my answer, something soft touches me. The very same thing that’s always snarling at me, and the reality kicks in.
The swift and soft movement, the pounding of my heart wanting out of my chest, and the subtle taste of mint shatter my world.
Lips.
Oliver Walter’s lips are pressed against mine.
I repeat, my boss is kissing me. My eyes, full and ready to burst out of their sockets at any moment, while my own lips move like this isn’t our first tango.
But there’s no time to sink in deeper because Surly Bastard jumps backwards.
His face panicked, his chest heaving, and his eyes matching mine.
I can see the regret seeping out of him, the bead of sweat building on his forehead and the staggered breath, revealing he just did something he shouldn’t have.
Whereas I should feel angry that he kissed me, but, in all honesty…
All I wanted was for him to do it again.
But that doesn’t happen.
He reaches up to touch his lips, and something snapped inside him. Pouncing like a cartoon character with a loss of direction and darts for the nearest exit. I try to get a word in, but the moment he reaches his secret room. The door slams and the lock clicks shut a second later.
I sit there for a while longer; that awful churning feeling in my stomach resurfaces, and the sudden thought of him running full of regret puts a damper on my self-confidence. I understand why he shouldn’t have done it, but I can’t help but feel the rejection.
Was I really that bad of a kisser?
I ask myself, trying my best to ignore the sparks I felt during our kiss, and push off the sofa and head up to bed.
The scene replays over and over in my mind, and all I can think of is how softly he looked at me, the person I saw right before his mouth was on mine…
Then I reach my bedroom, and the triggering sound of his office door locking and the distraught look on his face told me he, like the others before him, regretted getting so close to me.
That he wanted nothing more than to forget that ever happened…
Maybe I should, too.