Chapter 27 #2
“Right.” He watched me squirt lotion on my hand, looking mildly uncomfortable. I liked making him a little uncomfortable. He cleared his throat. “We need to talk.”
I groaned. “This again?”
“Forget I said that.”
“Too late. I’m already on high alert.” I moved onto my second foot.
“Let’s start over.” He rubbed his forehead. I noticed he did that a lot around me. I also noticed something looked different about him.
“I can’t just forget. I’m not a machine.”
“Why am I always exhausted after talking to you?” he asked.
He wasn’t wearing his glasses. That’s what was different. Without them, his face was more striking, more handsome in the classical sense; it even made him seem less stern and more youthful. I sort of liked stern Gil. “Put your glasses back on. I like them.”
Surprisingly, he did it without argument. “I am going to have whiplash after this conversation.”
“It’s never calm up here.” I tapped my head and set my feet on the coffee table.
“I’m sure your brain is a scary thing,” he said and even though his face hadn’t changed expression, his eyes warmed. They were very nice eyes—all navy blue with inky-black eyelashes surrounding them.
I swallowed and dropped my gaze to the lotion bottle I had clutched in my hand. “It’s like fifty squirrels all running around shouting, ‘I have an idea,’ ‘No, I have a better idea’ and they’re all good ideas, but then I don’t know which one to pick.”
“Why squirrels?”
“What?”
“In your head. Why squirrels and not cats or octopuses?”
With a shrug, I tossed the lotion on the coffee table. “I don’t know. They’ve always been squirrels. Cute, non-threatening woodland creatures with a lot of energy.”
“Who like nuts.”
“Don’t squirrels seem like such anxious animals? Always in a hurry but never quite sure why? So, yeah, squirrels.”
“This has definitely become one of the weirdest conversations I have ever had in my life.”
“But not the weirdest?” I nodded. “Challenge accepted.”
“I have been warned.” He took a deep breath. Probably trying to reach a level of Zen he would never accomplish with me around. It was cute, though. “I wanted to not talk to you about something.”
“Oh, smart. Reverse psychology.” I gave him my full attention. “Do go on.”
“Ollie’s room.”
I groaned.
“We need to start going through it. We haven’t even opened the door. Who knows what we’ll find in there? I’m not subbing tomorrow. I can start.”
My hands balled into fists. “Why are you in such a rush?”
“Why are you so set on waiting?”
“Because…because it seems like a real goodbye, okay?” I threw my hands up. “That room is basically one of the last things we have left of Ollie and once we go in there and go through his things, that’s it.”
Gil tilted his head. “That’s not true, you know.”
“I know,” I snapped. “But that’s how it feels.”
The thundering of tiny feet came from the hallway, jolting both of us.
“No running in the house, Oliver,” I yelled.
The thundering screeched to a halt and then started back again, with only slightly less enthusiasm. Oliver raced around the couch and threw himself on my stomach. “Mommy. Come play dinosaurs with me. Please. Please. Please.”
Yawning, I nodded and set my feet on the ground. “You got it, bud.”
“How about we let your mom rest, and I’ll play?” Gil asked.
Oliver bounced on his feet. “Yes! Come on.” Without waiting, he took off at full steam to his room.
“You don’t have to do that.” I scrambled to my feet and suddenly I was standing mere inches from him. He did not take a step back.
“It’s not a big deal,” he said.
“But…” My voice trailed off. His eyes drifted down my face and stopped on my mouth. My heartbeat ratcheted up.
“You have some lotion on your face,” he said.
“Oh, where?” I rubbed my cheeks, hoping they didn’t look as red as they felt. “Did I get it?”
“No.” He pointed at a spot above his own mouth. “Right there.”
“Here?” I swiped my hand across my mouth. “Still there?”
“No, just, um…here.” He hesitated before reaching out a hand slowly. His thumb landed on a spot above my lip. I held perfectly still as he moved his finger, softly, carefully, brushing against my top lip in the process, and then his hand was gone.
It was such a small touch—safe, innocent—and yet, there was a funny little hitch in my breath. My eyes locked with his for one breath, then two. Neither of us moved. I swallowed and told myself to laugh this off immediately. It meant nothing.
“Thanks. I’m such a mess.” To prove my point, I pointed to the large red spot on my t-shirt. “Spaghetti accident.”
His head tilted to the side, eyes roaming my face in a way that made me want to squirm.
“Mr. Gil, are you coming?” Oliver shouted from his bedroom, breaking whatever strange moment we were having.
“You’re sure about this?” I asked.
“It’s fine.” He took a couple of steps backwards. “We both know I can pronounce the dinosaur names better than you, anyway.”
After he left, I reset the timer on my phone and then I closed my eyes and thought about that small innocent touch and for three more minutes, I let myself feel all the feelings.