Can't Help Falling

by Cara Bastone

  She darted her eyes up to his, shiny but not brimming over. She looked like he’d just offered her a trip to Spain and she was examining the plane tickets, trying to figure out if they were real. “Your—your mom?”

  “Hasn’t called me in months. Even when she knew that I’d just become your legal guardian. Even when she knew that this was bound to be one of the most challenging points of my life. Not even a phone call, Ky.” He bumped shoulders with her again. “Who eats dinner with me? Who? Who meets my friends? You, Kylie. You’re my primary family. Not just because of who you are and who your father happens to be. But because of everything you’ve done since we got tossed together. You’re a good family member.”

  “Don’t,” she said in such a small voice that Tyler immediately stopped talking. If she’d yelled, he might have kept going. “Don’t say anything else.”

  “Ky—”

  “I helped with the window display.” She cut him off with a nod of her head.

  They’d stopped in front of Fresh, and Ty looked into the darkened windows. He had so much more to say but decided he’d driven far enough out onto the ice for one day.

  The shop was closed, just like most of Court Street, but Fresh didn’t have that abandoned-on-Christmas look that many of the other darkened storefronts did. The security gate was pulled down, of course, but Mary had left some of the lamps on, giving the store a homey, ambient feel.

  Tyler complimented the window display, which really did look cheery and bright. The conversation they’d just had was humming through him, the adrenaline brought on by the subject matter making him feel hollowed out. He was cold in his peacoat, but still, a line of sweat marched its way down his back. He wanted to push. He wanted to retreat. Instead, he just stood next to Kylie and looked through the window to the furniture display. “Clever how she did that,” he said eventually. “With the opened presents around the tree, making it look like people really had Christmas morning in there.”

  “That was my idea,” Kylie said quietly.

  When Tyler glanced down at her, her fingers threaded through the slats of the security gate, he saw that she looked a little nervous.

  “It’s brilliant! It makes the shop look so much more lively than all the others on the block.”

  It might have been the cold, but he was almost positive that Kylie had flushed with pleasure at his compliment. She took a deep breath and he knew it for what it was. The end of their last conversation. This was her way of asking to move on. It was the least he could do to oblige her.

  “The shop always looks more lively than the other shops on the block. It’s the best shop on Court Street,” Kylie said vehemently and again Tyler found himself observing her profile.

  “You’re sad to be done working there,” Tyler guessed.

  She shrugged, unthreaded her gloved fingers from the security gate and began walking back the way they’d come.

  “Did you ask Mary if you could become a permanent employee? Not just a seasonal one?”

  Kylie’s cheeks flamed, and she stared at the ground as she walked. “No.”

  “Why not?”

  Kylie shook her head. “I...don’t want her to say no.”

  “So instead you’re just not going to ask and let the dream die?”

  She made a noise of annoyance, and he tugged on her coat, making her face him. He made sure she saw him roll his eyes. “Kylie, that’s the dumbest. It’s like walking up to the boy you want to go to prom with and telling him that you’ll never, ever go with him in a million years.”

  Now she was the one rolling her eyes. “Topical. Way to take that problem and really put it into terms I’ll understand.”

  He had to laugh at the healthy dose of sarcasm dripping from her every syllable. “Okay, fine. That was dumb, I admit. How about this then? You miss a hundred percent of the shots you don’t take.”

  She pursed her lips but he could see her attempt not to smile. “Sports metaphor notwithstanding, I see your point.”

  “Besides, I doubt Mary’s answer will just be no.” He’d see to that himself. If he had to secretly pay Kylie’s salary out of his own pocket, he’d do it. “She might cut your hours or something. And I know she usually has a lull in January so maybe you’d start again in the spring. But I know Mary loves having your help at the shop. She told me herself you did twice the work of the full-time guy she brought on.”

  “Jonah was useless. He spent more time Instagramming than he did helping. I walked in on him in the bathroom and didn’t even apologize because he was sitting on the sink Snapchatting.”

  “I—” Tyler had no words for that. He wasn’t entirely sure what people used Snapchat for. “I’m assuming he had his pants on.”

  Kylie laughed. “Yes. He did.”

  “Then... I guess no harm, no foul?”

  Tyler could see the subway stairs two blocks ahead of them, but the truth was, he wasn’t ready for this day to be over. They’d go underground, be surrounded by people, and their conversation would stall out. Then they’d get home and there was a really good chance she was just going to go to her room.

  He thought fast.

  “Listen, the holiday trains are going to be murder going home. But there’s this really good Korean barbecue just past Gowanus. We could take a cab back from there after we eat. Up for a long walk to dinner?”

  It was a little early for dinner, not even six yet, but it would take them an hour to walk there, and he was sure they’d be hungry by the time they made it.

  “I’ve never had Korean barbecue.”

  “You’re in for a treat. Seriously, it’s one of my favorite food groups, and this place does it so well.” He shivered just thinking about it.

  Kylie laughed. “I’m not sure barbecue is a food group, but sure, I’m game.”

  Tyler shoved his hands in his pockets and led the way, pointing out the canal as they went, the changing neighborhoods, talking about Brooklyn, about nothing at all.

  * * *

  TURNED OUT, MARY DID want Kylie to continue working at the shop even after the Christmas rush. So, it was in mid-January that Kylie ended up taking Fin up on the offer to stay over for the night.

  It was a Friday, and Fin had been by Fresh to help reorganize after the New Year, showing off just a little for Kylie. Ty was at a game that was going late and wasn’t going to be home until around one. Fin figured she could either wait for Ty to come home to his house, stewing in that sock maniac’s golden energy all night, or she could retreat to her own turf and not have to worry about it.

  Since Fin had seen the videos of Tyler dancing, since the sock incident, she’d been avoiding being alone with him.

  Because she had a problem. A major problem.

  She kinda, sorta, maybe just a little bit had feelings for him.

  And she had no freaking idea what to do about it.

  She’d never experienced this before. He’d texted her the other day to invite her to a women’s soccer game with him and Kylie in February and it had taken Fin an hour to craft a text back.

  An hour.

  And all the text had said was Sounds fun, let me check my schedule.

  So, of course, two days later, he’d called to ask her if she’d checked her schedule yet. But she hadn’t answered the phone. She’d been on the way to meet a client, saw it was Ty calling and just jammed the phone back into her bag. Then, even worse, she’d held her breath through listening to the entire voice mail.

  She barely recognized herself! She was suddenly swamped with sympathy for all the lovesick clients she’d ever worked with before. Having feelings for someone was the pits. She felt like one of those shivering chihuahuas in turtlenecks whenever she thought of him, totally unprepared for life on this planet. Worst of all, every third thought was about him. It was a nauseating combination of exhausting and exhilarating.

  She
was constantly remembering something he’d said, or wondering what he was up to or what he’d think about something she’d heard on the news...ugh. How mortifying.

  She hadn’t, however, let herself watch those YouTube videos again. Those things were potent and had screwed up her life for a month. The last thing this stupid crush needed was fuel.

  Which was why she didn’t want to wait on his couch for him to come home from work, rumpled and tired and friendly. She didn’t want him to slip off her socks and give her new ones. She didn’t want to see whether he’d sit on the armchair or on the couch right next to her this time. She didn’t want to find out what his end-of-the-day scent was. Whether he would still smell like deodorant, or if he’d be a little sweaty, a little musty. She wasn’t sure which she was rooting for.

  Wait! She wasn’t rooting for either.

  Which was why Kylie was currently snoozing in Fin’s guest room. In the morning, she’d walk Ky down to the sidewalk and hand her off to Tyler with a wave and a smile. Problem solved.

  But when the morning rolled around, Fin really didn’t feel like the problem was solved. She hadn’t slept well and was already sucking down a cup of coffee on her couch when Kylie emerged from the guest room, scratching at her messy hair and stumbling to the bathroom.

  “You’re up early.”

  “Yeah, Ty already texted me this morning. Woke me up.”

  “What’d he say?” Fin hoped she sounded casual.

  “Oh. That he was bringing bagels over.” She squinted at the clock on the wall. “He should be here in about ten minutes.”

  “Here? As in my house?”

  Kylie’s eyebrows raised. “Yeah. He’s picking me up and bringing bagels for breakfast.”

  “Okay.” Fin forced herself to remain sitting, holding her mug of coffee and looking as serene as possible. What she really wanted to do was run in a tight circle with her arms waving over her head, but somehow she thought she might lose some of Kylie’s respect if she did that.

  “It’s probably a good thing he’s bringing food,” Kylie said lightly, peering into Fin’s kitchen. “Since you don’t use your kitchen as a kitchen.”

  “Hey!” Fin argued. “I microwave popcorn in there!”

  Kylie laughed. “I’m gonna get dressed.”

  As soon as she’d left the room, Fin rose, surveying her space. It was clean, as she’d done a thorough wipe-down of dust only three days ago. She’d also vacuumed and mopped. But it wasn’t the neatest it had ever been. A stack of journals skewed haphazardly on her bookshelf from where she’d been leafing through them. Her lampshade was askew, a pile of unfolded laundry melted halfway off an armchair and two dirty cereal bowls sat stolidly on her coffee table.

  She dealt with the journals first. Once they were neatly back on the shelf, she quickly did the dishes and surveyed her kitchen. The indoor herb garden she grew on her kitchen table was healthy-looking and smelled delicious. The series of crystals on her windowsill were sparkling in the sun. The herbs that were hanging on racks to dry looked a little unusual, but she wasn’t about to disturb them now.

  She was just going back to her room to change out of her pajamas when a knock came on her door.

  She froze midstep, almost comically. He was here already. And she was wearing bunchy pajama pants, no socks, a sports bra and an oversized bright teal zip-up sweatshirt. At least she’d brushed her teeth and washed her face. Her hair, however, was in a nest piled on top of her head that she hoped would pass for a bun. She wished that she was wearing at least some of her rings and bracelets and necklaces. But nope. She didn’t sleep in them. So here she was, feeling as naked as a jaybird, pulling open the door for a grinning, lazy-faced Tyler leaning one shoulder on her doorjamb.

  “Morning!”

  “How’d you know which apartment was mine?”

  “Ky told me. Can I come in?”

  She stepped aside and swept her arm out like a game-show hostess.

  He grinned down at her bare feet. “I take it this is a shoes-off apartment?” He was already sliding his loafers off and setting them neatly next to Kylie’s sneakers.

  How could this have happened? How could Fin have a crush on a man who wore loafers?

  “Yup,” she said.

  “That’s good, because I brought you something.” He reached into the pocket of his coat and fished out a brand-new pair of purple Smartwool socks. Fin gaped down at them as he held them out to her, but his eyes were already across the room, landing on Kylie. “Hey, kid. How’d you sleep?”

  “Like a rock. Fin’s guest bed is the most comfortable thing ever.”

  “What kind of mattress is it?” he asked Fin, waggling the socks at her when he realized that she still hadn’t taken them.

  “What? Oh, it’s just an old futon.” She finally took the socks and felt the jolt of warm energy that coursed off them. It went all the way up to her elbow and back down to her fingertips. Not every gift that someone gave her made her feel this way, just the really thoughtful ones, the ones where the buyer had held her in their heart when they’d purchased it. And right now, her fingers were tingling as she clutched the socks.

  It was just a pair of stupid socks. Nothing to get twisted up over. Socks were the kind of gift that women normally complained about getting. They shouldn’t be making her heart do this weird half-step thing in the cavity of her chest.

  “I brought bagels, and then we’ll get out of your hair, okay?” Tyler strode toward the kitchen, stopped in the doorway of it, looked and then turned back around to Fin. “There’s no kitchen in your kitchen.”

  She couldn’t help but laugh. “Your sister said almost the exact same thing. I usually eat in here.”

  She got them plates, poured Tyler a cup of coffee and arranged everything on her coffee table.

  “So,” Tyler probed as he set out bagels and cream cheese and a few other spreads. “You don’t cook, like, at all?”

  “She microwaves popcorn,” Kylie put in helpfully, her mouth already full with the bagel she’d added a borderline disgusting amount of cream cheese to.

  “Kid. The mouth, the food, the words, for the love of God, swallow that trough of cheese before you speak to me again.”

  Kylie crossed her eyes at Tyler but did as he asked.

  “No wonder you think I’m such a good cook,” Tyler said to Fin. “If the only thing you use your kitchen for is herbs and popcorn, the standard isn’t very high.”

  “You are a good cook,” Kylie said, reaching for her juice. “Better than my mom at least. All she ever did was heat up frozen meals. Or if she was having people over, she’d order from a fancy restaurant and put it on plates like she made it.”

  There was a momentary lull in the conversation and Fin knew they were in dangerous territory of making Kylie feel funny about what she had just shared.

  “I did that once. Pretended I cooked a meal that I’d bought.”

  Tyler swung his head over to Fin. “Really? You?”

  She shrugged. “It was for this big date, and I was really nervous. I wanted to impress the guy.”

  “Really?” Tyler said again, this time incredulously. “You?”

  Fin laughed and shrugged again. “What? I was young. He was hot.”

  “Did it work? Did he buy it, get super impressed and fall madly in love?”

  Fin pursed her lips and shook her head. “No. Well, sort of. He was super impressed with the food. But I didn’t know that he was kind of a foodie. So he kept pumping me for the recipe. Eventually I had to come clean.”

  “Let me guess,” Tyler said dryly. “He was so enamored with you trying to impress little old him that he didn’t care one bit, and the date went well anyway.”

  Fin narrowed her eyes. “So?”

  Tyler opened his mouth to retort, but Kylie’s phone rang from her pocket. “It’s Mary. I’m gonna an
swer.”

  She scampered away into the other room, her bagel still in her hand.

  Kylie came bopping back out of the room again, but this time with her backpack over her shoulder. “Mary’s main weekend help just called in sick and she wanted to know if I’d come help for a little bit this morning.”

  Tyler’s brow went down. “You can only work fifteen hours a week.”

  “I only worked twelve this week. And if I get more than three, then I’ll count them toward next week. It’s Saturday! Come on. Saturday straddles the line between the two weeks.”

  “You’re seriously this excited about work on a Saturday morning?”

  “You’re seriously going to jump up my ass for being excited about work on a Saturday morning?” She put one hand on her hip. “Would you prefer I sneak off to do drugs on an abandoned playground? Or have unprotected s—”

  Tyler groaned and held up a hand to stop her. “Please don’t continue. Let me just get my shoes and we’ll go.”

  “That’s okay. I can take the train.”

  Kylie was already slipping her own shoes on, setting her bagel down just long enough to get her coat zipped up.

  “You mean alone?” Tyler looked surprised.

  “Sure. Ty, the trains aren’t rocket science. I’m only going to Cobble Hill.”

  “How would you get there, then?” he quizzed her.

  Kylie paused. “I’ll take the Q from the Prospect Park station,” she turned to Fin. “Unless Parkside is closer?”

  Fin shook her head, her mouth filled with bagel and her eyes bouncing back and forth between Ty and Ky. “Nope. Prospect Park is closer.”

  “And then I’ll transfer to the bus that goes up Atlantic. Boom. I’ll be there in half an hour.”

  “Weekend trains,” Tyler protested weakly.

  “You know, Ty, I happen to be in high school and this may come as a shocker to you, but I can actually read signs. If there’s any wonky weekend trains, I’ll change my route or I’ll call you, okay?”

  “I—” He was standing, one hand in his hair, looking befuddled. “Call me when you get there?”