Chapter 17 #3
“I’m not going to wash my hair, so I’ll meet you up front in fifteen,” I said, collecting my towel and avoiding looking at him completely.
I scurried off to the locker room like a little chicken, and by the time I met him back up front, I had collected myself. He stood waiting, face to the sun, a soft smile on his lips. Beautiful as ever.
I sighed. This was ridiculous. I was ridiculous.
“I thought maybe I’d be up for more,” I said by way of greeting.
I had hoped I would be too. “I’m sorry. But I feel exhausted on all the levels.
” Early-Morning Me and After-Gym Me were two entirely different people.
I needed to go be alone and process everything that had happened, from the shitty comments to the overwhelming power of his touch to the piercing sincerity of Pace saying, I can carry you.
I probably wouldn’t ever be the same again. No big deal.
“No worries. Today was great. You did great,” he said sincerely. He squeezed my shoulder, and a fresh scent of bodywash hit me. I wanted to tilt my head and rub my cheek along his hand.
I didn’t.
“I wished I wasn’t so . . . If I could push through, we could knock everything out at once, but this stupid, freaking brain—”
“Hey. You gotta stop talking about her like that.” He gently pushed a strand of my hair back to softly brush against my temple. “She’s doing her best to take care of you.”
What was with this man and his random nuggets of wisdom? And the touching. He was just so comfortable touching. I blamed post-workout endorphins for the inexplicable emotion tightening my throat.
“Aren’t you supposed to say five nice things to yourself now?” he asked. Of course, he remembered that offhand comment and ran with it.
“I’m still working on that,” I said, shifting on my feet. “The problem is, I’m too self-aware. It’s exhausting.”
“Is it self-aware if you only ever focus on the bad? I would argue that’s a startling lack of awareness,” he said genuinely, but it short-circuited my functions temporarily.
I closed my mouth. “I-I literally never thought about that.”
“Okay. I’ll go,” he said.
I fought an eye roll at his attempt to say five nice things about himself. Those sorts of thoughts probably manifested in his mind before his eyes even popped open in the morning.
“One: It’s incredibly courageous that you’re trying so many things outside your comfort zone. So many people are content to stay in the prisons they built themselves.”
“Oh.” He meant about me. Oh God. This was going to kill me, and yet I never wanted him to stop. Pet my head and tell me I’m pretty because I guess I really am that basic.
“That’s true. I guess,” I said with reluctance. “Thank you, but you really don’t—”
“Ah, ah. I have four more where that came from.” He held up a finger to stop me.
“This is really not—”
“What are you talking about? I could do a hundred more. This is easy. This is fun,” he said with a laugh.
Torn between absolutely wanting him to go on forever and, at the same time, finding this too extreme an exercise in discomfort, I froze.
“Am I allowed to say things like you’re beautiful? Or is that one of those compliments that don’t count?”
“Oh, um.” Heat seared up my face. I bit my tongue to keep from saying that it had to be true, but then thought that it would sound like I was fishing for compliments.
“I know. It can be about looks if it’s something you work at, right? Like how I work out all the time?” he asked.
I had no idea where this was going.
“No, better yet.” He snapped his fingers excitedly.
Had anybody outside of my family called me beautiful? A voice in my head screamed, No, seriously, call me pretty, I didn’t mind!
“Two: You know so much about a lot of different things. I think that pretty much any topic you could throw a comment in,” he said.
I nodded, jaw clenched, trying hard not to make excuses. Sit in the discomfort, as Dr. Spinner would say.
“Three: You’re also really funny. It catches me off guard, but sometimes I’ll be at work, just in the kitchen cooking, and then I’ll see something that makes me think of a joke you said. Ninja humor.”
“I think that you’re funny too,” I said.
He beamed. “Thanks, but this isn’t about me.”
I was on fire from the inside out, inflamed by his compliments.
He was a fireman, for crying out loud! Couldn’t he see how I burned for him?
He had fully admitted that he thought about me when we weren’t together.
Did he not realize that was such a huge revelation for me?
He was lost in thought, curling the brim of his hat repeatedly as he constantly fidgeted.
“Four: You notice things that other people don’t notice. You have a childlike wonder. I love that. It’s making me notice things now too.”
I bit my lip.
“Okay, I’m just gonna say it. Five: You’re beautiful. I feel like that’s cheating, since that’s a given. I bet that you would be able to come up with something more creative. But it’s got to be said.” He lifted and dropped his shoulders. “But, yeah. You’re beautiful.”
“Thank you,” I said.
And then I gave up on any pretense of this only being a crush.