missed three phone calls and a couple of texts. The media frenzy around that damn kiss was unbelievable. Most of the calls and texts were people wanting to do an interview or get a statement. The calls weren’t all from the media, though. I’d also gotten a few messages from music managers because my song was charting again.
My life had turned into something I didn’t even recognize. The craziest part about it, to me at least, was that all I could think about was Sasha.
Not because everyone who was contacting me had questions about her or our relationship. Or even because of the out-of-this-world kiss we’d shared. Or because every time I saw her my world stopped spinning. Or because she was, hands down, the most stunningly beautiful creature on this planet. Those would all be good reasons not to stop thinking about her. But what had my head stuck in a Sasha loop was what I’d witnessed yesterday at Lilah’s birthday party.
I couldn’t stop thinking about the way she connected with everyone she spoke to. Every interaction she had looked like she was catching up with an old friend not meeting a stranger. The way everyone she met felt special and seen. It was a gift that few people in this world had, and it was inspiring to witness.
I also loved the way she was both graceful and clumsy. She easily navigated her way through every interaction with my family and friends, which were a tough bunch, with ease. But she’d stumbled over her words when she’d gone to drop off the muffins, knocked over the glass of sweet tea when I’d asked to talk to her, and when she said goodbye to me before she and Mrs. Nelson left the party she’d tripped over her feet when she’d turned to leave.
It might just be my imagination, but I wondered if her clumsiness was just around me. The thought that it might be, that I might affect her that much, made me a lot happier than it probably should.
I pulled my truck to a stop in front of Mrs. Nelson’s house and my stomach churned with nervous energy. I still had no clue why I’d asked her to go fishing. It had just come out when she was apologizing.
My plan had been to get her alone so I could make sure that she was okay. But when we got into the room, all I could think about was kissing her again. I’d put my hands in my pockets just so I didn’t reach out and touch her. And once I heard that the party had migrated indoors, I knew that our time was running out. I’d opened my mouth with every intention of telling her she had nothing to apologize for but somehow ended up asking her to go fishing.
Fishing. Could there be anything less romantic?
It wasn’t my finest moment, but at least she’d agreed. I was going to get to spend the next few hours with her without any distractions. Maybe it was actually a genius thing to invite her to do. That’s what I was telling myself as I walked up the front path.
I lifted my fist to knock on the door, but it opened before I made contact. Mrs. Nelson stood in front of me wearing a housecoat, slippers, and curlers in her hair. She had a cup of coffee in one hand and her phone in the other. She reminded me of an SNL character.
“Good morning, Mrs. Nelson.”
“Good morning to you Beau Briggs. I hear you’re taking Chipmunk out fishin’.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You headin’ down to the river or over to the lake?”
“The river.”
“Hmm.”
It was clear that she did not approve of my response. Maybe because the river was a known make out spot for teens. But this wasn’t a Friday night after a football game and Sasha and I were both adults.
“Chipmunk, your date’s here.”
“I’ll be right there.”
The moment I heard Sasha’s voice a shiver ran through my body. I hadn’t even laid eyes on the girl and I was already having a physical response to her.
“I wouldn’t keep a man lookin’ this fine waitin’ too long if I was you.” Mrs. Nelson winked and stepped out onto her porch to join me and shut the door behind her. Her voice was low and I assumed that she was going to give me the “if you hurt my granddaughter speech,” but she didn’t. “I hear Rachel’s been sniffin’ around.”
I doubted Rachel would appreciate that description of