idea. Thanks for arranging it.” She does that thing where she fidgets with her hands when she can’t contain her excitement.
I shrug like it’s nothing, not wanting to let on that there’s more to this evening than she suspects. “No worries. Just thought it’d be fun.”
Holy shit, is she going to kill me.
I latched onto her phobias as a way to keep my focus off all the things I want to do to Nina and with Nina. Not that it’s helping. This girl is a different brand of crazy with her hippie folks, her tendency to flash people, and this whacked-out phobia list. Still, I’m consumed by her. Every quirk I learn makes me want to know more. Luckily, she’s open to a fault, but, apparently, only with me. Every admission from her about her family or her fears is followed by, “Oh my God, I’m such a freak.” That’s when I lean in to say, “Own the crazy,” and she looks ready to hug me. It’s painful to keep my hands to myself.
And other parts under control.
I have to remind myself over and over to keep my distance from her, keep my jeans on and my legs hidden. My dick, however, didn’t get the memo. I’ve had to adjust my stride to account for the constant tightness. My body’s desperate for her, but when I look at my legs now, imagining what she’d see, they look more deformed. Uglier. Like Freddy Krueger’s face.
With another lame shrug, I say, “The other option was staying at the hostel for me to cook you another five-star meal.”
She tilts her head and raises her eyebrows. “Cook? You don’t cook, Sam. You melt cheese on stuff.”
“Wow, Canada. Those are some harsh words. If you weren’t so hot, I’d leave you to travel on your own.”
She juts out her hip. “Hot? Please. I’m wearing the same shirt I wore yesterday, my hair’s a ratty mess, and I forgot to put on eyeliner. Maybe you have some corneal disease and need to get your eyes checked.”
“Interesting,” I say while I tap my chin.
This girl is too much. Part sexy, part adorable, and all irresistible, she has no idea how appealing she is. Totally clued out. I’m not sure the pre-accident Sam could’ve gotten past her long list of quirks, but there isn’t much about me that’s like it was. My emotions rule to the point I worry one of my doctors shot me up with estrogen. The guy who was once okay with going to business school and working for his dad’s consulting firm to make a pile of money isn’t sure it’s what he wants anymore. After the time I’ve spent in rehab, I keep thinking physiotherapy could be cool. Like it’s more important to love what I do than to be driven by the almighty dollar.
Then there are girls.
Before, I was down with the Reeses and the Laceys of the world, pretty packages with not much inside. Now, I’m not so sure. Lacey’s rejection shot my ego to shit, but I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been thinking about ending things, too. Her idle gossip and clothing obsessions had lost their amusement. If we couldn’t talk about who was banging whom and who was wearing what, it left a lot of dead air. The kind that suffocates you.
But Nina? Fuck. We spend days together and I’m never bored. Our silence is always comfortable. Maybe I would’ve been into her before, maybe not. Either way, I’m so wrapped up in wanting her now and terrified to have her, I’m floating around in no-man’s-land, flirting like I’m in high school but letting it go nowhere.
She nudges me with her elbow. “Interesting what? Why are you tapping your chin like that?”
Damn, she’s cute when she puckers her lips. “I believe I’ve discovered another phobia to add to your list.”
She whacks me lightly. “That’s not how it works. They’re my phobias, so it’s my list.” She crosses her arms, and it pushes up her breasts.
I try not to stare. She looks amazing in whatever she wears, never trying to impress. In a plain yellow skirt and simple white tee, she looks awesome. Not the kind of girl you have to worry about smearing you with lipstick when you want to steal a kiss. I drag my gaze up to meet her eyes. “Yeah, well, the rules have changed. I don’t have an official name for this fear of yours, but…ready?” I do a drum roll on