by Laura Burton
She’s right. All of my senses scream she’s right. But I can’t think about it. All I need to do is find out how I can take the sexual tension between us from one to one million.
Surely, once we’ve kissed, he’ll realize he’s completely in love with me.
All of the advice columns I’ve read so far say the same thing. It’s all in the kiss.
I’ve ticked all the other boxes.
I’m a good listener.
I laugh at his jokes.
I ask him about himself.
I’m affectionate.
I wear feminine clothes.
All that’s left is to give him the best kiss of his life and I’ll have him. Then I can write my column, send it to Helen and get the job done.
“Wyatt’s coming to the barbecue this weekend,” I blurt. “Is that okay?”
Leila looks at me in surprise. “You’re introducing him to the family already?”
I nod. “He asked to come.”
Leila chuckles. “Well, that’s interesting.” She stands up and hums as she begins to pace the room. “Yes, I think I know just what you both need to heat things up.”
“What?” I ask, daring myself not to blink as I watch my sister’s face twist into a mischievous smile. Clearly, a plan is starting to brew.
“You’ll see. Just wear your cutest outfit and bring Wyatt along this weekend. I’ll handle the rest.”
Chapter Fourteen
Wyatt
For once in my life, the garlic smell of my mom’s cooking doesn’t bother me as I walk into my parents’ kitchen. I ruffle my dad’s hair as he gives me a side hug, and I squeeze my mom so tight she squeaks.
“What’s put you in such a good mood?” My mom asks, when I finally let her free.
I grab an apple from the counter and smirk. “I met someone.”
My parents exchange looks for a second, then there’s an explosion of cheers and exclamations.
“Who is she? How did you meet?”
My parents launch an attack of twenty questions and I do my best to answer them all. Even the superficial ones.
Is she cute? Yes.
Does she make you happy? Of course.
Will you see her again? Definitely.
My mom isn’t impressed by my one word answers, but she’s not going to let them sour her mood.
“You should bring her to the book fair,” my dad says casually.
The thought makes my blood turn cold. The book fair?
Everyone in town dresses up as their favorite book character and goes down to the town center to play games, listen to music, and eat food.
Everyone who has ever known me will be there. My parents included.
“Isn’t it a little too soon to have her meet my parents… and everyone else in Snowdrop Valley?” I ask, raising my brows.
My mom scoffs and says something about it never being too early. But I’m less than convinced. Then I remember I’m going to Lucy’s sister’s house on the weekend.
If I’m going to meet her family, maybe it isn’t so crazy to consider taking her to see mine? Besides, taking her to the book fair might be less intense than having an intimate family dinner where my parents will take turns grilling the poor woman with their incessant questions.
That experience might just be enough to put Lucy off the idea of seeing me again.
I can’t risk that.
Plus, Lucy is a Lord of the Rings fan like me. Maybe we could coordinate our outfits…
“I’ll think about it,” I say, and my mom’s face lights up.
I hold up a palm. “But I’m not making any promises.”
Chapter Fifteen
Lucy
When the weekend arrives, I have barely any nerves left. Helen has sent me hourly text messages for updates on my article, and that hasn’t been very helpful. Chessy’s excitement reached new heights when I told her she was going to meet Wyatt at the party. Half of me is concerned she’s going to steal all of his attention with her adorable self, leaving me rejected and depressed forever.
I put on a blue button up dress that sits snugly on my curves. The dress looks like it was made for my figure, and that’s saying something. Chessy pulls my hair into an oversized bun on the back of my head and a glance at the mirror leaves me satisfied. I can finally accept that I am cute and not at all dorky. Maybe this is the new me, a version of me that I can comfortably be.
My new look has given me a confidence I never knew I had.
I banter back and forth with the guys at the office, the Chinese takeaway place gave me free spring rolls, and I said no to Marty when he asked to steal another pen from me.
As for Wyatt, he and I have been texting on a fairly regular basis. Sometimes it’s out of the blue:
I saw this meme and thought of you.
Other times it’s a continuation of a conversation we had hours ago.
You’re right. Oranges are not orange, I just looked it up.
Whenever my phone flashes and a message pops up on my phone, my stomach does a little dance and I grin like a fool when it’s him.
My imagination is working on overdrive these days, as I try to picture what Leila has up her sleeve. What could she possibly have planned to help me and Wyatt have our first kiss?
A first kiss at a family barbecue might not sound like the sexiest place to have it, but Leila and Blaze’s house is a mansion. There are several private corridors and a lot of grounds to get lost on for some time alone.
I wonder where it will be? Next to the turtle fountain in the center of the hedge maze? Or maybe in the cupboard under the stairs?
Chessy leaves, but not before giving me a nod of approval. Then I lose myself in fantasies of kissing Wyatt.
The knock on my door jolts me out of my daydreaming. My insides shiver with excitement and I swallow nervously as I head to the door to let Wyatt in.
“I’m just going to use the bathroom. I’ll be one second.”
Wyatt is standing on my doorstep in a pair of dark blue jeans and a crisp white polo shirt. His hair is beautifully oiled and the fresh woody scent of his aftershave floods me with memories of our previous dates.
I’m giddy now as I walk into the bathroom and pull the door shut behind me.
Breathe, Lucy. Just breathe.
The last thing I want to do is lose my cool.
Then my eyes snap open as I remember that Wyatt is in my living room unattended and my game room is just a door away. I gulp at the image of him snooping around my apartment and all of the things he might find.
What if he sees my Wonder Woman costume?
Or… I can feel the blood drain from my face as I think about it… My Star Trek memorabilia collection?
I dash out of the bathroom and back into the living room at hot speed. I’m more than relieved to see that Wyatt is still there. Why my brain automatically goes to the worst case scenario is beyond me. What kind of weirdo creeps around someone’s apartment anyway?
But just as I’m starting to relax, Wyatt’s laugh raises my defenses. Then my heart drops as I walk over to see what he’s looking at.
“Is that you?” he points at the picture frame on the wall. It’s a picture of two young girls re-enacting the iconic E.T. scene with the bike. When I was nine, I thought it would be funny to paint my baby sister orange and wrap her up in a towel to look like an alien. I put on my red zip up hoodie and pulled the down until only my dark bangs were peeping out. At the time, I thought I totally looked the part. Carefully, I plopped Chessy into the basket and rode my bike, while Leila held up a giant cardboard cut-out of the moon that she’d painted. We set up a camera and set the timer. It took several attempts, but when we finally got the shot, I was super proud. It’s been one of my treasures ever since.
It was the first and only time my sisters participated in one of my cosplay projects.
Here I was, worrying that Wyatt would see my game and cosplay stuff. And the most embarrassing evidence of who I am is hanging on the wall by my
front door.
“I’m riding the bike,” I confess.
“Who’s the baby? Your sister?” Wyatt asks.
“Yes, that’s Chessy. She’ll die when she finds out you’ve seen this picture.” I force a giggle, but I’m still dying of embarrassment inside.
“It’s a cool picture. But if you shot it at night and shone a flashlight behind the moon, it would have looked a whole lot cooler.”
I blink several times at Wyatt. He’s smiling at me casually like he just said something about the weather. I expected a sarcastic quip, or a comment about how weird the photo is. Not advice on how the picture could have been improved. Besides, I was nine at the time.
“You’re right,” I say, despite my thoughts. “That would have worked much better.”
Wyatt doesn’t wait around to talk more on it. I’m half-relieved but slightly curious to know what else is going on in his head? Does he not think I’m a total weirdo now?
Does he also have an inner nerd longing to come out in the open?
“Are you ready to go?”
My thoughts fade as I grab my jacket. “Sure.”
I’m so preoccupied with my thoughts; I almost forget Leila is planning something big. Only almost. This time I don’t forget to pop a breath mint in my mouth.
Leila and Blaze’s mansion is on the outskirts of Manhattan. The house is like something out of a Jane Austen novel. After starring in several blockbuster hits, Blaze started directing his own movies. At the very least, he’s a multi-millionaire.
Our taxi goes up the private driveway, and there are at least twenty other cars parked outside the house. Easy listening music fills the air, playing from fancy speakers in the trees that line the road.
Wyatt and I climb out of the car and head for the garden. “Everyone will be out back. Come on.” I lead Wyatt around the side of the house.
As we enter the garden, my baby sister throws her arms around me. Next thing I know, my face is crammed between her bony shoulder and her coconut-smelling hair. “It’s so good to see you!” she says, finally letting me go. She was at my apartment a few hours ago, but I go along with it.
Her shiny eyes beam at me for a splinter of a second before they drift to Wyatt. “Hello. I don’t think we’ve met.”
Wyatt offers his hand. “You must be Chessy,” he says warmly.
Chessy bursts into a fit of giggles as they shake hands and all of my alarm bells start ringing at the sight of their hands touching.
But when she lets go, she turns and nudges a man with his back turned.
“Have you met Gary?”
The man swivels round, and it takes all of my self-control to hold back a gasp. Gary is one of the construction workers I pass each morning on the way to work. I’m sure of it. He’s swept oily, caramel colored hair to the side, and he flashes discolored teeth in a corny grin.
“Hi, there,” I say warily, keeping my distance. Gary does not offer his hand, thank goodness. I can’t decide if his skin is tanned or covered in patches of grease.
“How did you two meet?” I ask, looking inquisitively at Chessy.
I hold my breath, hoping she doesn't say it was love at first catcall.
“On the subway,” Gary says. “Well, we––” He pauses and flashes Chessy another corny grin. “You can tell the story, sweetheart.”
Somewhere inside I’m face palming with a groan. Tell the story? Sweetheart?
Chessy picks up a glass from a server walking past and takes a sip. “We literally bumped into each other. You see, I was going to miss the train, so I was running. And then Gary came out of nowhere and it was this massive collision.”
Gary rubs his chest, as though the memory is still fresh in his mind. “And this girl might be small, but boy, can she knock a guy off his feet!”
Chessy’s cheeks grow crimson and she gives him a doting look. Meanwhile, Gary’s eyes have an evil glint about them, and I hate the way he’s looking at my baby sister.
I have half a heart to knock him off his feet as well.
“I dropped my bag and everything was all over the floor!” Chessy adds, her face turning to one of trauma. I can relate. If all the contents of my purse spilled out on the floor of the subway station, I would die a thousand deaths, come back, and die again, just for good measure.
A woman’s bag is sacred. Even other women know not to look in another woman’s bag. It’s the most important unwritten rule. Just below the one that women must never go to a public restroom alone.
“Gary helped me collect it all. But when I got on the subway, I couldn’t find my subway pass––or my money!” Uh oh, I think.
“Oh dear,” Wyatt says. “What did you do?”
Gary’s grin stiffens as he wraps a chunky arm around Chessy’s narrow shoulders. “I paid for her, of course,” he declares proudly.
“And I was so grateful––I am so grateful––so I asked him to come with me to the barbecue. I mean, it’s the least I could do.”
“So, you two met… today?” Wyatt asks, one of his brows twitching as though he’s wrestling with it to stop it from lifting.
“We met an hour ago,” Chessy says with a giggle, then she rotates her wrist to look at her smart watch. “Oh. Now it’s one hour and three minutes to be exact.”
She turns to Gary and the two of them do something weird with their noses. Like a playful sword fight. But instead of a blade for their weapon of choice, they’ve opted for the tips of their noses.
Wyatt and I exchange looks briefly. To my relief, he looks just as repulsed as I am.
“It looks like it was an eventful hour,” Wyatt remarks, crossing his arms with an amused smile.
But Chessy and Gary start cooing to each other like a couple of love birds and shuffle away into a private nook at the edge of the deck.
I exhale long and slow, in a vain attempt to blow the awkwardness away. Great. The first time Wyatt meets my sister, she's being a total weirdo. Being in love after one hour has to be a new record.
And I can’t help but be cynical. Wyatt echoes my thoughts when he leans close and whispers in my ear.
“We’ll need to keep an eye on him. Did you see the way he was eyeing up the silver? And he was definitely looking at your sister like she’s a piece of meat. I won’t be surprised if he stole her wallet.” Did he say we? Interesting…
We walk further into the garden, smiling at various guests as we pass by. We stop a couple of times to engage in polite conversation. Then we reach the edge of the garden maze, and I’m struck by an idea. I grab his arm and urge him inside. “I want to show you something!” What’s more romantic than a turtle fountain? It’s the perfect place for a quiet kiss.
“Okay,” Wyatt replies, running to keep up with me. After a while, we slow to a walk and settle into a comfortable silence.
“Well, so far so good. I think you’ve been doing fine talking to all those strangers. But where is Leila, I wonder?” Wyatt asks, looking thoughtful.
She’s probably doing whatever it is she has planned for my first kiss with Wyatt. But I can’t tell Wyatt that. Then I’ll have two crazy sisters. He’ll start to think loopiness runs in the family.
If he doesn’t already.
“Oh, probably in the kitchen,” I say with a shrug. “I’m so sorry about Chessy, by the way, she has terrible taste in men.”
Wyatt hums in thought. “She and Gary are moving pretty fast.”
I shudder at the image of them cooing at each other. “I know.” I rub my arm, suddenly taken over by a chill in the air, and on autopilot, Wyatt takes my hand. Heat shoots up to my shoulder and floods my whole body.
“I hope I’m not being rude here.” Wyatt scratches his jaw and leans against a hedge as he studies the gravel path. He seems to have something to say.
“Go on,” I say, trying and failing to read his face. He’s looking everywhere but at me. Oh no.
“I just wanted to say… I’m not looking for anything serious. I’m sorry if I’ve given you the
wrong signal.” He looks at me finally and I’m absolutely speechless for a moment. But I catch myself quickly and do my best to cover up my shock with a laugh.
I bend over double and nudge him. “You think I’m––?” I laugh so hard, it comes out in a succession of snorts and squeals. “No. No way. I’m not looking for anything like that either.” A terrible lie.
Well. It’s not a whole lie. In all honesty, I was only trying to get Wyatt to fall for me because of the article. I never set out actively looking for a boyfriend.
I like my life just as it is. I mean, I’ve been thinking about getting a cat. But always having to put make up on, wear uncomfortable clothes, date… All the while trying not to make a fool of myself, tell a stupid joke or reveal my inner dorkiness? It’s draining.
And let’s not get started on my sensory issues. I hate loud music. I overthink everything. I’m a clean freak around the house, and I have to change the bed sheets every day because I hate the way they feel when they’ve been slept in.
A guy who can put up with all that? Does one exist?
“Great. So, you’re happy to keep things casual for now?” Wyatt asks me, searching my eyes. I hope he can’t see right through me. I make a high pitched sound that is supposed to be an agreement but it sounds a lot more like a mouse squeak.
“Abso-toodle-ootly!”
Wyatt’s face breaks into a huge grin and this time he doesn’t stop a brow from lifting. “You make me laugh, Lucy. I’ll give you that.”
Relaxing a little, we take a right turn and follow the maze in silence. But my brain takes over, and before I can stop myself, I’m voicing my thoughts. “So, I'm curious. Why are you not looking for anything serious? I mean, I know my reasons. I’d just like to know yours.”
The question seems to rattle Wyatt, his nostrils flare and his shoulders tense up. But then he puffs out a breath through his nose and stuffs his hands in his pockets. “It’s complicated.”
It’s always complicated.
I stay quiet, hoping that the silence might spur him to talk more. After several long minutes and three wrong turns, Wyatt finally cracks.