6. Bryce #2
“Thanks for meeting me,” I say, now that I’ve finally remembered how words work.
“Thanks for inviting me,” she says, taking a piece of muffin and popping it into her mouth.
I stare at her for a moment, trying to think of something cool to say and failing miserably. “I’m sorry,” I say after an awkward silence. “I don’t really know what to say.”
She laughs. “Me either. This was so much easier when we were texting. Then I couldn’t see how cute you were.” She blushes. “Shoot. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”
I laugh, and just like that, the awkwardness is broken. “I’m glad you think I’m cute,” I say, my voice teasing, “because I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting.”
She drops her gaze like she’s not used to being looked at that way. If I thought her cheeks were rosy before, now they were a vibrant shade of pink usually reserved for flower bouquets.
And I love it.
“Uhm, thank you,” she says, fidgeting a bit in her seat.
She’s clearly not used to receiving compliments. That has to change.
“So,” she says, breaking me out of my thoughts. “How is your work trip going?”
I hesitate. “It’s been harder than I expected,” I say.
I should tell her.
I don’t.
Not yet.
“I’m sure you’ll turn it around,” she says, smiling at me from her side of the table like I’m not having a full crisis of conscience sitting across from her.
“That’s the plan,” I say, taking a sip of my coffee.
“How long are you in town?” she asks. “I don’t think you ever told me how long your trip was.”
“It’s sort of open-ended,” I reply. I’ve been meaning to take a vacation when the season is over. I could extend my stay, tour DC. Spend time with Hadley. The more I think about it, the more I like that idea.
If she’s still interested by then, anyway. Who knows? Three weeks is a long time.
“Interesting,” she says, eyeing me. “What does that mean?”
I laugh. “It means I’m due for a vacation, and DC is looking more and more interesting every day. I might need to stay in town and get to know it better.”
She grins. “It is the nation’s capital, after all.”
“That it is.”
“Have you never been to DC before?” she asks.
I shake my head. “Nah, I grew up in a small town in Arkansas. My mom was a single mom just trying to raise my sister and I. We didn’t do many far-away trips.”
“Your school didn’t have a field trip to DC? We get a lot of school tours that come through here.”
I shake my head. “No, not mine. I think the furthest our school went was to Silver Dollar City in Branson, Missouri.”
“I’ve never heard of that,” she says, leaning forward a bit. “Is it like Dollywood?”
I shrug. “I guess. It’s an old-timey theme park. There are a few coasters, some food and shows. You can get your picture taken in old western wear. It’s fun.”
“Sounds like it,” she says.
“What about you? Did you go on many trips?” I ask, curious about her childhood.
Over the next hour, we talk about growing up, our friends, our siblings, anything and everything. When the alarm goes off on her phone, and she says she needs to get back to work, I find I’m not ready for our date to end.
“Can I walk you back?” I ask, standing and gathering our dishes to put in the bin.
“I’d like that,” she says.
We step outside into the hot soup of the day, and I am instantly feeling the sweat beads pop up on my face. “How do you stand the humidity?”
She laughs. “I grew up near here, remember. You just get used to it, I guess.”
“I guess,” I say dramatically, causing her to laugh harder. “Tell me your favorite thing about living in DC.”
She takes a moment, looking around as we pass store fronts on our way back to the library. “The history, I think. I moved here after college for an internship. I thought I’d go into politics. Be a political journalist or something.”
“Clearly you changed your mind. What happened?”
“Nothing dramatic, really. I just realized it wasn’t the life I wanted.” She shrugs and shuffles closer to me to avoid walking into someone who stops in front of her. Our hands brush, and that odd feeling of lightening under my skin from the bookstore is back, except today, it feels stronger.
She doesn’t move away, so I risk it and slide my fingers between hers. My heart is pounding so hard I’m sure she can hear it, but she doesn’t comment. For a split second, I expect her to pull away.
She doesn’t.
She wraps her fingers tighter around mine, and a feeling of peace instantly washes over me. A feeling of rightness that I can’t explain.
When we get to the library, we stop and I reluctantly let go of her hand. “This was nice,” I say, though nice doesn’t feel like a strong enough word to convey what I’m feeling. “I’m not really ready for this to end.”
“Me neither,” she says.
“Would you like to have dinner with me?”
“I’d love that,” she says, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.
“Tomorrow? Would that work for you?” She nods, and I feel like I just scored a golden goal in the Olympics. “I’ll work out the details and let you know.”
“Perfect,” she says.
“I hope you have a great day,” I say, picking up her hand and bringing it to my lips. I place a soft kiss on the back of her hand. Her breath hitches and a flush creeps up her neck. “Call me later?”
“Okay,” she nearly whispers. She turns and rushes inside the library, and like the besotted fool I am, I stand on the sidewalk and watch her go.
And just like that, I’m all in.
This is either the best decision I’ve ever made…
Or it’s going to be a hot mess.
I am in so much trouble.