by Amy Daws
We reach the door and I grab the handle. He nods and walks away from me backwards, before swiveling on his feet and jogging back toward his place. I lean back and enjoy the view until suddenly, the door swings open, and I’m lying on my back and groaning in sheer agony.
“Ow! Dammit, Angela!” I cry, and rub my elbow as she jogs past me to grab my pop bottle that’s rolling into the parking lot.
“Enjoying the view?” she asks, swerving back to look at me as I amble up off the ground and look up, praying to God Brody didn’t see. The door to his apartment is just closing. I sigh with relief.
“I was! Until you ruined it by opening the door!” I bark at her, and brush myself off sullenly.
“I didn’t know you were leaning on the door!”
“Dang dude, my elbow hurts!” I rub it again and head inside.
“Who was that guy?” she asks, following me.
I sigh, suddenly feeling no pain again. “Brody,” I smile saucily.
“Well that didn’t take long!” she teases.
“Don’t you even!” I snip at her playfully.
“Okay, okay, I won’t.” She laughs and walks into her bedroom. “Come in here and tell me all about him!”
I giggle and run into her room, feeling giddy as a high-schooler again.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Studying for this quiz before class is impossible because a denim-eyed hottie keeps creeping into my thoughts. I stare ahead dreamily, waiting for Professor Martin to pass out the quizzes.
“Finley,” Jake whispers over to me. I look over at him curiously. “Can I bring you lunch after this?”
I shake my head and accept the paper from the classmate in front of me. Jake doesn’t say anything in response. Hell no, he can’t bring me lunch. I couldn’t be less interested in his lunch.
I’m the first one to finish the quiz, so I leave class quickly, not glancing back at Jake’s piercing gaze. I stroll into the computer lab and quickly take my seat behind the monitoring desk. After rereading the same sentence in my textbook five times, I opt to stare out the huge bank of windows on the opposite wall of the lab.
The windows overlook a big patch of grass with curving sidewalks broken in throughout. It’s a busy area with lots of student traffic and I probably people watch way more than I should. I hear Parni clear her throat, and I steal a glance at her.
“How do you not have anything to do? You’re in college,” she bites at me.
“Parni, have you never heard the phrase stop to smell the roses?”
She stares blankly, “You smell the roses too much.”
“People watching is a great pastime Parni, you should try it.” I look back out the window and am floored when I see Brody standing there with a big goofy grin on his face. I stand up in shock and walk through a row of computers closer to the window to figure out what’s going on.
He smiles even bigger as I approach, then holds up a finger, indicating to wait one minute.
He fumbles in his backpack lying on the ground next to him, and presses a white sheet of paper up against the window. I squint to read it.
I FORGOT TO GET YOUR NUMBER.
I laugh out loud at his message, to which Parni and a few other students look up at me and train their eyes on the Brody Spectacle as well. I run back to my desk, grab a notebook, and quickly write my number down. I return to Brody’s eager eyes and hold my paper up. We’re now separated by two feet and one pane of glass.
He smiles, then quickly grabs his phone out of his pocket and enters my digits. He holds up one finger again, and reaches into his bag and presses another sign against the window.
DOES THIS MEAN I CAN CALL YOU?
I laugh out loud again.
“Oh for the love of God!” Parni reprimands, but I ignore her and nod enthusiastically to Brody’s dark blue eyes. He reaches into his bag and pulls out another piece of paper.
JUST MAKING SURE.
I continue shamelessly beaming back at him, and he swaps his paper with another.
YOU LIKE SAILING?
I furrow my brow and shrug my shoulders, unsure how to answer that.
ME NEITHER.
He shakes his head and gives me a look that he’s disgusted. I laugh out loud at his adorably comedic expression.
SERIOUSLY, WHO SAILS?
Before I can even get a chance to laugh again he presses another sign up against the window.
I MADE GOOD USE OF MY TIME IN CLASS TODAY.
I give him my best impressed look.
I’LL CALL YOU.
I bite my lip and nod, returning his wave goodbye. I turn on my heel and my Brody-buzz is pummeled at the sight of Jake standing in the doorway with a brown bag of food in hand, looking visibly shaken. We lock eyes and my smile fades instantly at his somber expression.
I walk over to him in the doorway and his expression transitions into indignation.
“Who the hell is that?” he says, none too quietly.
I shove him out of the lab and into the hallway. “His name’s Brody. What’s your deal, Jake?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest and pointing at him with a hard stare. I’m over being embarrassed about anything related to Jake.
He shakes his head, quickly. “I’ve just never seen that guy before and now I see him twice in one day. How long have you known him?”
“Jake, you went from speaking to me several times a day, to nothing for two whole days. Now you want to be chummy again?” My voice rises at the end. “Maybe if you weren’t so hung up on yourself, you would have noticed Brody before—not that it’s any of your business anyways…I don’t want your damn lunch.”
He glares down at the bag in his hand like it has completely betrayed him. “Finley, I just thought…you know what, you’re right. This is for the best.” His eyes travel down my body, looking positively mean and nasty.
I raise my eyebrows and nod, dismissively, not giving two shits how Jake LaShae looks at me anymore. I’m done with his mood swings. I don’t know what the hell he’s trying to do right now with his lunch, but he can give it to Olivia for all I care.
Without another word, he turns and exits. I force myself to think back to Brody in the window, and how freaking cute that was. That’s the kind of man I need in my life—someone who will put it all on the line for me. Or, in Brody’s case, all on the window. I smile as my pulse quickens at the anticipation of our upcoming date. This is just what I need.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Brody calls to arrange a date for Saturday night. All he says is that he’ll be by around 6:30 and that I should be hungry. Angela leaves for KC for the weekend, so I don’t have her around to help me obsess over what to wear. Without knowing what we’re doing, I select a pair of floral print denim shorts. The weather in Manhattan is still warm, and these shorts can go casual or dressy. I throw on a loose white tank and a long pendant necklace. I run a straightener through my hair, and I’m considering having a drink as the clock ticks closer to 6:30. My nerves are getting the better of me.
There’s a knock on the door at 6:31, and I wish I would have said no to this date. I’m a ball of nerves right now. I’ve been on lots of first dates before, but this Jake situation has me feeling insecure and twitchy.
I open the door and I’m greeted with a lopsided smile on Brody’s adorable face. His curly hair is perfectly mussed on top of his head. He eyes me appreciatively.
“You look awesome,” he says, with more sincerity than I’ve ever heard from any other date.
“You look awesome too,” I say and laugh, slightly. He’s wearing a pair of loose khaki cargo shorts and a soft charcoal-gray t-shirt with a faded graphic design over the top. The sun is just beginning to set, and the golden hue gives him a dreamy backlight that gives me instant butterflies.
“I tried on like four t-shirts.” He laughs, and shakes his head. “I don’t know why I said that.”
I smile and tuck my hair behind my ear nervously. “Should we go?” I ask. He nods and leads me down the park
ing lot toward his car.
“Bye, Brody!” a male voice shouts from afar. I look up at Brody’s apartment door where a shaggy-haired guy stands in nothing but a pair of boxers. Brody nods his head sternly, refusing to acknowledge the guy. “Just be yourself!” the man adds, pressing one hand to his mouth in an extreme motherly fashion. Brody’s face morphs into a glare and he turns to look up at his apartment door.
“Mark! Honestly!” Brody bellows. Mark smiles like the cat who ate the canary, and retreats into his apartment. Brody turns a mortified expression to me.
I laugh and shrug my shoulders. “It’s good advice!” I say, and he scoffs and opens the passenger door of his black Acura.
I hop in and glance around his car. I’m pleased to see it’s clean. Dirty cars drive me nuts. Brody slides into the driver’s seat, and I peek over at him nervously. “So, what are we going to do?” I ask, trying to calm my nerves.
He looks at me out of the corner of his eye as he backs out of the stall. “It’s a surprise.”
I smile at his sneaky look. “It’s not sailing is it?” I ask, sounding more serious than I felt.
He barks out a quick laugh. “No. Sorry to disappoint. It’s not sailing.”
“What if I would have said I loved sailing?” He glances at me, quickly. “What?” I snicker curiously at his expression, completely unable to contain the big smile on my face. I am digging how I feel with this guy.
He glances to the backseat, and then motions with his head. I look back to see several more pieces of white paper. I twist and grab the scattered sheets and bring them up front.
OH, WOW! ME TOO! #soulmates
COOL, DO YOU HAVE A BOAT?
YOU WOULD.
I laugh hard at the last one, sort of wishing I’d said yes to the question of whether I liked sailing or not.
“Like I said…I made really good use of my time at class that day.” He grins wickedly at me, and I bite my lip to contain my excitement.
“What are you listening to?” I ask as I reach for the volume knob on his stereo.
“Local radio…oh, yeaaaaa,” he drawls out in a deep voice, and purses his lips into a cocky pucker. I raise my eyebrows.
“Any particular station?”
“Nope. I surf. I love lots of stations.”
“Why’s that, you think?” I ask, turning my body to face him. “Indecisive?”
“I like to think of it as being extremely open-minded. That, and it’s too much pressure for me to buy an album and listen to one band constantly. I like so many different kinds of music. ”
“So, local radio satisfies your every need?” He cuts me a look that has me blushing at my unintentional sexual innuendo. He looks forward and exhales slowly, appearing to collect himself before responding.
“I like giving the power of music to the DJ behind the mixing board. I like witnessing the unexpected. I like being surprised by things. You surprise me.”
My jaw drops slightly at his last statement, but before I can ask what he means, he pulls the car into a residential driveway.
“Where are we?” I ask, looking around. The house appears to be a new construction building. The lawn is a mess of lumpy dirt. There are several large pieces of construction machinery and various tools and dumpsters strewn all about.
Brody hops out of the car and opens my door before I have a chance to open it myself.
“This is a house I’ve been working on. I did construction for a local contractor this summer. He said I could use it for the night.”
“It doesn’t look like it’s done,” I say, noticing the lack of a front door and windows. “Is there even furniture?”
“It’s not finished. Not even close. But we’re not going inside.”
He pops the trunk and grabs a cooler out and reaches his free hand toward mine. I give him my hand and he instantly laces his fingers between mine. I’m surprised by the quick and intimate hold. But I’m not complaining!
He leads me around the side of the house into the backyard where there’s a huge in-ground pool with no water. We walk across the bare concrete patio area and stop at the edge of the pool.
“Feel like going for a dip?” I tear my eyes away from the bottom of the pool and am greeted with a sexy smirk.
“That’s where our date is?” I ask, pointing to the huge stack of blankets in a heap down below.
“Yeah…come on, Fin,” he tips his head boldly at me. “Bet no one has ever asked you to a picnic in the bottom of a pool before.”
I love how he calls me Fin already. I nod my head incredulously, and walk over to the pool ladder. “This is a definite first.” I grin up at his tall frame as he turns around, cooler in hand, and makes his way swiftly down the ladder, jumping the rest of the way once he hits the last rung. He sets the cooler down and looks up at me expectantly with that same audacious smile. I bite my lip and turn around to make my way down. I hope he’s enjoying the view of my ass right now because I know for certain that’s what that cocky smile meant. When I reach the bottom rung, he grabs me on either side of my waist and effortlessly eases me down to the ground. Oh, he’s smooth. Real smooth.
“I brought a ton of blankets ‘cause this concrete is hard as hell. But the view is worth it,” he says, slowly removing his hands from my waist.
“What view?” I say, twirling in a circle as I gesture to the four sides of light-blue concrete.
“I stand corrected. Two views.” He raises his eyebrows at me flirtatiously as his eyes drink me in.
I cock my hip provocatively. “Okay, Mr. Fresh. Seriously. What view?”
“Seriously…that view!” he says, moving closer to me, blatantly staring at my legs.
I shove him back playfully and his chest rumbles with laughter. He reaches out and strokes my arms in response. It feels nice.
“Come here. Let’s eat…you’ll see what I’m talking about soon.”
I kick off my flip flops and he does the same. His massive stack of blankets is actually really comfortable. He opens his cooler and pries a lid off a Corona.
“What I like to drink wasn’t on your signs,” I say, taking a swig of the bottle he hands me.
He smiles, “I took a guess.”
“Good guess.”
He pulls out two massive subs wrapped in white paper and two bags of kettle chips.
“It’s not fancy, but this place has the best subs off campus.”
“Looks good.”
We waste no time digging in. He’s right. It’s the best sub I’ve ever tasted. I laugh when he holds a finger up and produces napkins with little words written on them. He lines them up so I can read his full message. They say:
I
THOUGHT
OF
EVERYTHING
I grab the everything napkin. He watches as I carefully fold it and tuck it into my pocket. His smile turns from curious to smug. I blush in response.
Suddenly, he breaks our silent flirting session. “It’s getting late. Here, lay back, we’re kind of missing it.”
I wipe my hands off on the of napkin and lay back next to him. Our shoulders are touching and his arm hairs graze the back of my hand. When he points toward the sky, I finally understand the view he’s talking about.
The sky is lined with thin ripples of barely visible clouds, but wisps of white are just enough to give the mixture of reds, oranges, pinks, and purples something to latch onto. The sky is a beautiful burst of color.
“Most people sit up on a hill and watch the landscape at sunset. It takes a special kind of person to watch a sunset from the bottom of a pool.” He turns and raises his eyebrows expectantly at me.
I look at his face and smile. His blue eyes are glittering with golden flecks from the sky, dancing back and forth between my eyes.
“You have great eyes,” he says, looking suddenly serious.
“I was just thinking the same thing about you.”
“Naw, mine are just blue. Yours are awesome. They look like a turquoise ocean you�
��d see in Mexico or something.” He reaches his hand across his chest and brushes a strand of hair off my forehead. “And they are so big and round. I like that.” I slow blink my eyes, relishing his touch. “Expressive,” he adds, looking deeply into my eyes.
“Mmmm, yeah, expressive. They get me in trouble sometimes.”
His warm breath blows across my face as he laughs softly. “I bet you can’t hide your emotions very well, can you?”
I purse my lips and shake my head. “Your eyes look like denim,” I say, ready to take the attention off of me and back onto him. His hand drops as his chest rumbles with laughter.
“I’ve never heard that one before.”
I laugh, feeling slightly foolish. “It’s weird, but true, they are like this perfect swirl of a great pair of jeans. Nothing better than a great pair of jeans, right?”
“Depends who’s wearing them,” he says, grinning his wicked grin again.
I look back up at the sky, nodding my head shamefully. “So, how did you discover watching a sunset from the bottom of a pool was this beautiful?”
“I don’t know. I was working late nights out here all summer. I was spreading the liner on this pool, and yeah, I guess I just kinda checked the sky out ‘cause I was losing daylight. It seems like from down here, there’s less distractions. You only see the sky.”
I nod, thoughtfully, and say, “Like tunnel vision.”
“Exactly.” He appears deep in thought for a moment and then turns on his side to face me. “At the risk of sounding creepy…I’ve had tunnel vision on you for over a year now.”
“What?” I ask, my jaw dropping. I turn on my side to mirror his position.
He avoids my piercing gaze, looking past me toward the house. “I had some shit go down with my ex sophomore year. She was…something.” He shakes his head. “I’m not going to go there. I just…I wanted to ask you out for forever, but I needed to get my shit sorted.” He swings his eyes back onto my face and looks serious and sincere.
