Shelby #2
“What does a regular day in the office look like for you?” He’d given me the basic rundown of his role as an executive officer in his insurance company, but I still didn’t have a tight grasp on what exactly that looked like.
He’d mentioned working long hours and how this gave him little time for anything else, but that left a lot to the imagination.
“It’s long. And it's mostly meetings. Which means my colour is often – pesto .”
“Eww. Do you even like what you do?” I couldn’t imagine remaining somewhere for so many hours each day and not enjoying the work.
“Most of the time I do,” he seemed hesitant, his finger tapping on the steering wheel. “I like my direct team,” he offered before another pause. “And most of our clients are great. But I’m not necessarily thrilled to head a new office. That will come with its own challenges.”
“Like what?” I spun around in my seat so I was facing him, adjusting the seat belt so it wasn’t choking me.
Pivoting towards him was becoming habitual, my body always wanting to be facing him as if he was true north.
I’d always been a people watcher, finding the things they did and the manner with which they moved fascinating, but Corbin was like a piece of art.
One which I could stare at and appreciate all day and still find new things to admire.
“Being lonely.” He cleared his throat, his eyes remaining steadfast on the road ahead, although I saw the way his throat bobbed more acutely.
So there was a slight chink in the armour.
The first indication the fortress he concocted with his work hard, live not at all mantra wasn’t as fulfilling as he tried to convey.
Corbin was a worker, and I knew he enjoyed what he did but at what cost?
“Moving away would mean no family close by. What about your team? Surely you’d take some people with you?” I watched him closely, my heart squeezing that he was perhaps unhappy with his life as it was.
That a man like him could be lonely, was unfathomable. He was the ultimate catch and surely had women lining up for his attention. His tongue darting out to moisten his lips while he thought about his response stole my attention.
“Surprisingly no. I would scout the location and then Old Ed – my boss – has a few contacts in the States and they would recruit new hires. It’s all pretty boring.”
“We are coming back to Old Ed because I’m going to need a full description, but say you’re happy with the New York office, do you just relocate?”
The thought was bittersweet. New York was much closer to Canada, but was a place I felt no connection to and wondered if Corb would feel the same.
“Basically.” He flicked a look towards me, his eyes quickly dropping to my bare legs which were pulled up to my chest. I’d gone with a pair of black athleisure shorts and an oversized tee which meant there was a fair amount of thigh on show and the thin press of his lips didn’t go unnoticed.
I’d caught him watching me a couple of times, although I was just as guilty so who was I to judge.
It also sent a cheap thrill through me every time I caught him doing it and never failed to spark a flash of memories to our shower.
Where I bore witness to an entirely new side of him and got to run my hands over that hidden masterpiece of a body too.
That shower was scorching – and not because of the water temperature.
I almost needed a second one just to cool off.
“I would build the team myself so I will make plenty of decisions. Define the long-term strategies for growth and market expansion. Develop the policies and procedures, build partnerships and drive innovation, but it will be a new country. New networks to form and clients to source. I wouldn’t get a lot of time off, but when I did, there wouldn’t be anyone close by to see,” He ran a hand over his head, exhaling through his nose.
“I don’t have a heap of friends, but I do like to relax occasionally. ”
“I hate that we live so far from each other,” I admitted, feeling a wave of sadness that he was again implying an undercurrent of loneliness. “I’d never leave you alone.”
He smiled, his eyes remaining on the road. “I think I’d like that,” he said. “Although you would probably try to get me high to relax,” he joshed, and I laughed.
“What exactly do you do to relax, Corbin Chambers?” I asked, readjusting in my seat and again catching the brief flick of his gaze.
The longer I spent in his presence, the gigglier I was becoming.
I was literally catching myself wanting to toy with my hair like some teen with a crush and the salacious glint in his eyes coupled with his roguish smile made me weepy.
Thoughts of loneliness dissipated replaced with need.
God. Why was he so handsome?
“What do you think I like to do?” He challenged, and I grinned.
I liked this carefree version of him. With nothing but the ocean on one side and a road which appeared to stretch for weeks, it felt as though it was only us and our truck full of Alworths trinkets.
Nothing else could reach us out here and for a moment I let go of the true meaning of our trip, of the sadness I’d brought with me, of worrying how Blake was going in the snowfields and what my life would look like when I went home.
For a moment I basked in the present. With my friend.
My very grown, very intelligent, thoughtful and observant friend.
“Hmmmm,” I pretended to ponder, a mischievous smile on my face. “I think you organise your wardrobe into colour order.”
His laugh bounced around the car, and it wasn’t long before I joined him. “That’s already done.”
“I think you go on dates and then scrutinise the things they order from the menu,” I tried again, and he huffed another laugh.
“I wish I was that exciting. The last woman I dated, and I use that term loosely, told me it wouldn’t work between us because I was a bore. Apparently not having had an alcoholic beverage in six months made me boring.”
“Ouch,” I replied with scrunched brows. He’d never outright told me he dated until now. Obviously, I knew he would but it was a topic we seemed to unknowingly choose not to discuss. Not that there was much to tell lately on my end.
“Well, she’s wrong. And I hate her on principle,” I said, meaning it entirely.
“You’re the best person I know, Corbin. And nothing even close to boring.
I’ve never been a people person, but you make the hardest things feel easy.
Even when you do nothing but just be there.
” He flicked his eyes to me, watching me carefully, and I wondered what he was thinking.
“What about you? Any interesting dates?” He didn’t look at me again, but I noticed his knuckles were whiter, a tension which wasn’t there before.
“It will come as no surprise that I’m the opposite to you. I haven’t really had time to date,” I shrugged, not needing to explain where all my time had gone over the last couple of years, “But when I have, I’ve been told I’m too much,” I laughed self-deprecatingly .
“Well, they’re wrong. And I hate them on principle,” he replied effortlessly, and my shoulders released the tension I was holding as I grinned at him gratefully.
After a minute of silence, he spoke again, “I like the ocean,” he shrugged. “I’m not a daredevil, so I’m not talking surfing or jet skiing, but I love time in the salt water, where your sole focus is on the next wave moving towards you.”
“You always loved the beach.”
“And you were always scared,” he retorted.
“I wasn’t scared,” I protested weakly. “I just preferred building sandcastles to nearly drowning.”
“Sure, sure.”
“I don’t remember a lot from when we lived here,” I admitted, “but most of my memories include you.”
He smiled fondly as a new song started, his thumb tapping along to the Shania track I began singing. There was no room for speaking anyway, this was a performance, and I was a solo artist. When the song faded and he applauded me with a one-handed clap against his leg, he spoke again.
“I’ve also booked a place for your birthday next week.”
I reached for his arm involuntarily, the shock of his words taking control of my movements.
“How did you even remember?” I asked sullenly.
I didn’t enjoy celebrating my birthday anymore, a day which was forever marred with news Mum’s illness had returned.
The smoky, waxy paraffin still lingering in the air when she blurted out the truth she could no longer hold tight, mere seconds after I’d blown out my candles.
A scent I will forever relate to endings.
A whisper of smoke disappearing in the air, alongside any fondness I would associate with celebrating another year around the sun.
“How could I forget? It’s your thirtieth, Shelbs. And before you get mopey, I already know you don’t want to celebrate. So, we won’t even mention it but I’ve found a nice spot not far from Crimson Coast. We could spend a few days there and then head over.”
I turned to sit straight in the seat, reaching into the packet of crisps for a distraction.
Anything to ignore the warmth which was seeping into me at his thoughtfulness.
Anything to stop myself reaching for him again but this time to run a hand across his chest – to top up my touch battery the slightest amount.
“You’re just glad I will be older than you in numbers,” I sulked, reminding him of the four-month gap which fell in his favour.
“Correct,” he said with a chuckle. “I can see the grey hairs already.”
I whacked his arm, a laugh of my own forthcoming, before sliding my hand down to pull his wrist over to the centre console where I drew a line along his skin.
“Okay smart arse,” I quipped, “I will now be taking a ten for ten and you’re not allowed to complain.”
“I remember when you used to force me to play dolls because you were older and I had to do what you said, and you always gave me that scary looking doll with one eye.”