Another knock.
Go away. Was that what had startled me awake? A knock? No one ever knocked on my door beside for the mailman. And we had an understanding. He always left any packages on the doorstep because he knew I refused to answer. One time he had seen me staring through the curtain at him. He had waved. I had let the curtains fall back into place. Now we understood each other. Or so I thought.
I closed my eyes and readjusted myself on the couch. He’d go away. Unless it was a substitute. A sub would be more persistent if something needed signing. Had I even ordered anything recently?
Another knock made me groan. Jesus. Just leave! No mailman tried this hard. Actually, it was probably too late in the day for the mailman. It was…I swallowed hard when I looked at my watch. 11:45 a.m.? I sat back up with a start. How was that possible? I stared at the closed blinds. Light was streaming in through the slits. I had slept all day and all night? My stomach rumbled at the thought of all the missed meals.
I put my hand on my forehead. Sleeping pills had never worked well on me. I’d sleep for a few hours and then wake up restless. But I had slept for almost 24 hours straight.
The knocking had stopped. I was curious if he had decided to just leave the package. Or maybe there’d be a note for a redelivery date. I stood up on one leg and hopped to the front door.
All that sleep had given me more energy too. I felt like going for a run. If only I hadn’t ruined that for myself. Just thinking about not seeing Ben again made me want to cry. It was like I was an addict and he was my drug. How could I see him again? Get a wheelchair and roll down the street to the lawn he mowed? I needed to think of a way. That one encounter would never be enough.
I opened up the door and it was as if I had conjured him to life. I blinked. No, he was really there. Ben. I placed my hand on the doorframe to steady myself.
“Addy, where are your crutches?”
Addy. I held back a sigh. How many times had he groaned my name in my dreams last night? How many times had he whispered in my ear? Or kissed my lips? God, he had just asked me a question. What had he said?
“Addy?”
The daydreams disintegrated as I saw a group of women walking in the distance. The gawkers I called them. Catty women who never took the time to get to know me. Gossiping witches. And they were coming this way.
“What are you doing here?” I hissed.
He lowered his eyebrows in the sexiest way possible. God, I didn’t have time for him to look sexy right now. They were coming!
“I promised you lunch.” He held up the takeout bag in his hand.
The aroma made me drool. It smelled like everything I never ate. Greasy, delicious fries were most likely in that bag. My stomach growled. “And I told you not to come!”
He smiled out of the corner of his mouth like I was amusing to him. “And I decided not to listen.”
He wasn’t supposed to come back. He wasn’t supposed to be this sweet. He wasn’t supposed to ever be more than a daydream. My eyes darted back to the women. They were drawing closer. They were probably already staring at us. Talking. No.
I grabbed the front of Ben’s t-shirt and pulled him into the house. His chest collided with mine and he had to grab my back so that we both didn’t topple to the floor.
The aroma of grass and all things manly filled my nose, making me pause in the middle of my plan to hide him. We stayed pressed together with the door hanging open for the whole neighborhood to see. A public display I couldn’t bother to care about when I was in his arms.
“Well, hello to you too,” he said and tilted his head down to look at me.
His ocean blue eyes were so gorgeous that it almost hurt to stare at them. If I stood on my tiptoes, our lips would only be a fraction of an inch apart. What the hell am I doing right now? I let go of his shirt and slammed the door shut.
“You shouldn’t have come,” I said as I hopped back into the living room and pushed the curtains to the side. The gawkers were walking past. One of the women turned toward the house and I quickly drew the curtains closed. This isn’t happening. I could already hear the rumors. The damage was already done.
“Addy?”
I turned to stare at him. He had clearly asked me a question and I hadn’t been paying attention again.
“If you don’t tell me where your crutches are, I swear I’m going to carry you to the kitchen.”
I laughed.
The foyer was dark, but his smile could light up any room. The realization that he was in my house again made me bite the inside of my lip. What was I supposed to do with him?
I eyed the bag in his hand. Right. Eat. I held my head up high. “I don’t need crutches or for you to carry me.”
“Whatever you say.”
I waited for him to move out of my way. I didn’t need him, but that didn’t mean I wanted him to stare at me hopping around on one foot.
“Well…the kitchen is that way.” I pointed behind him.
“I want to make sure you don’t fall,” he said and waited for me to pass.
God he was infuriating. “We’ve already had this conversation. I’m not 80 years old.” I hopped past him as fast as I could manage.
He grabbed me around the waist as I passed him, and lifted me up so that my back was flush with his chest.
“Put me down!” I squirmed underneath his grip as my feet hovered off the ground.
He laughed in my ear. The feeling of his warm breath and the sound of his amusement made me want to sigh. Instead, I said, “I’m not a child either!” with much less force. Really, I didn’t want him to stop holding me.
We reached the kitchen far too soon and he released me as soon as my good foot hit the tile.
His hand slid off my waist and he walked into the kitchen, completely ignoring my outburst. He set down the takeout bag on the kitchen table and started opening up drawers and cabinets.
“Excuse me,” I said, putting my hands on my hips. What did he think he was doing?
“You’re excused.” He opened up another cabinet. “Aha.” He pulled out two plates and set them down on the counter.
“Would you stop rummaging through my things?”
He glanced at me over his shoulder. “Would you sit down?”
I glared at him.
He gave me a similar look back before continuing to open up drawers.
I sighed and sat down.
“All set,” he said and placed a plate and utensils down in front of me. “Want something to drink?”
“Are you trying to get me drunk again?”
He raised his left eyebrow. “It’s barely noon, woman. What are you trying to do to me?”
Unspeakable things. I laughed. “The glasses are in the cabinet on the far left. And there’s a Brita pitcher in the fridge.”
“Two glasses of water coming right up. We can save the hard liquor for later.”
Later? “How long are you planning on staying?”
He poured the water without answering me.
“Ben, I have a million things to do.” Such a statement was always an exaggeration. But to me it was especially so. I had absolutely nothing to do.
“What things can you possibly achieve when you can’t walk? Snort cocaine?” He sat down next to me in the only other seat and opened up the bag like what he had just said wasn’t at all odd.