Waiting for December, page 3
As I’m filtering through more ideas, Sky rests his hand on my knee and says, “We met on a plane.”
At least, I think that’s what he said. My entire focus shifted to his hand the moment he touched me. It’s burning my skin even through my jeans. It’s difficult to pay attention to anything else.
“She’s scared of flying, so I tried to calm her nerves by talking to her.”
The context clue lets me know he did say plane. An honest response. Why didn’t I think of that?
“Actually, that’s not entirely true,” he continues. I’m not sure why he does. His family collectively let out an “aww” after his last statement, meaning they bought it and were satisfied. It would have been easy to stop there.
“I didn’t realize until we started talking that she was nervous to fly. But I was so happy when I found out she was scared because I realized she’d probably want to continue talking to me. I knew I wanted to talk to her the second she walked on the plane. Actually, that’s not entirely true either. I saw her walking through airport security, and that’s when the thought first popped into my head.”
I set my hand on top of Sky’s, and ignoring the tingles in my palm, I squeeze. I’m trying to let him know he doesn’t need to take this act further. His family gets it. He wanted to talk to me. But he doesn’t take my cue. Or maybe he misinterprets it. Either way, he draws in a breath and continues.
“I had already gone through security and was about to walk to my flight, but then I saw her. There was something familiar about her, despite her being a stranger, and as I watched her smile at a security guard, I felt warmed by it, even though it wasn’t directed at me. In that moment, I didn’t care where my destination was anymore. I told myself that wherever that woman was headed, I might just have to buy a ticket.”
Okay, Sky. Tone it down. While it’s great acting, he doesn’t need to make up more stuff for us to remember.
“I kept trying to think of ways I could casually strike up a conversation with her—first as she was repacking her suitcase after a security check and then as she was buying a pack of Mentos at the Atlanta Made store. But then I lost sight of her. I couldn’t believe I lost sight of her.”
Wait, wait. I did have a security check. I did buy Mentos at Atlanta Made.
My heart starts pounding, and I turn toward Sky, hanging on to every word, along with the rest of the table.
“I was crushed,” he continues. “Because I knew I’d probably never be able to get her out of my head. So I’m sitting on the plane kicking myself, and then I see her walk on. And not only that, but she sits down right next to me. I was struggling to come up with an opening line, afraid I would say something stupid and blow my shot. She picked up on my nerves and asked me what I was so nervous about. I didn’t want to tell her I was nervous about talking to her, so I mentioned something else I was equally nervous about, and the conversation went from there. I realized after we shared a drink together that this must be what happens when your path is meant to cross with someone else’s. It just does. You don’t miss each other.”
I took an acting class in college. One of the lessons was on monologues. I remember the teacher telling us they’re hard to deliver because people tend to get bored easily, so to combat this, her advice was to speak as much as we could from the heart. That pops into my head now because that was definitely a monologue, and at no point was I bored, which makes me think Sky gave his heart a megaphone and let everything inside of it out.
It shouldn’t matter if Sky likes me. I’m not interested in developing anything—not feelings, not attraction, and definitely not the start of something.
The problem is my mind doesn’t seem to be falling for that denial anymore.
I’m still in my own head when I become aware of the silence and notice everyone looking at me as if they’re waiting for my response.
Oh, no.
For one, I can’t top that speech. And two, I don’t think I can even speak. Not for at least another solid minute. I’m still trying to catch my breath, to calm my racing heart.
I’d also prefer not to lay my feelings out in front of Sky’s family. I’d rather talk to him one-on-one. But as the silence stretches, with no one volunteering to end it, I decide that because I’m not going to see his family after this evening anyway, it doesn’t matter what they think of me. “I was actually disappointed when I met him,” I announce.
Out of my peripheral vision I see Sky turn his head toward me. I bet he wasn’t expecting me to say that. Well, I wasn’t expecting his speech either. Now that I think about it, I’m kind of mad at him for delivering it. I didn’t want to know all that. That wasn’t the plan here.
“I told myself I wasn’t going to open up my heart for at least three months,” I press on. “I had just gone through a big breakup, you see, and it was really important to me to spend some time alone, finding myself. But from the moment I sat down beside Sky on the plane, he started testing how committed I was to that. Just being near him tested that. And then we started talking and I was tested more. Against my better judgment I agreed to spend the rest of the evening with him once we landed, and he kept testing my resolve with every touch and every conversation.”
I realize now that it’s not Sky I’m mad at. He didn’t know this part of my story until now, so he couldn’t have realized his speech would bother me. I’m upset with the lesson I seem to just now be learning: It’s pretty hard—if not downright impossible—to control your heart.
I know this is a strange moment for Jake to cross my mind, but he does, because it strikes me that this must have been how he felt around Anna. The realization makes me forgive him a little bit more, because chemistry like this is hard to fight. I didn’t realize how hard until now; I didn’t know chemistry as strong as this even existed until a couple of hours ago. Jake and I had a version of this, but not this.
“And now, here we are.” I wrap things up just as Sky’s hand finds my knee again under the table. This time he seems to be passing along a silent apology. Ironically, this only makes me like him more, because now I can add considerate to his list of attractive qualities.
“Harper?”
“Hm?” I’m nervous to look up from my plate and meet Sky’s eyes, knowing they’re going to pull me right in. Can’t Sky’s family start passing the food around again? Or change the subject? Heck, I’d take listening to them bad-mouth anyone—including me—right now if it would break the silence.
Sky says my name again but whispers it this time. His voice is so soft it lures me into looking up. I feel my face heat at the intensity I find there.
“Is it just me or are you picking up some hints of vanilla in the wine?” he whispers next.
“Vanilla?” I repeat. Oh! We’re back to acting. Thank God!
I take my napkin off my lap and set it on the table. “You know, I think I need some air.”
It doesn’t occur to me until after I get up from the table and hear Sky do the same that he didn’t use the code word to get away from his family. He used it because he wants to continue this conversation somewhere where it’s just the two of us.
Just the two of us.
That has a dangerous ring to it if you ask me.
three
I’D BEEN LOOKING forward to coming to Vermont for three reasons. One was to get out of Atlanta since it reminds me so much of Jake. Frequenting all the places the two of us used to go to together wasn’t helping me move on as fast as I thought I would be able to somewhere else.
Reason number two was that I thought it would be easier to focus on myself in a place where I knew fewer people. Zoe and Grace stopping by my apartment every night proved they were the best friends a girl could have, but it meant I rarely sat alone with my thoughts, and while I know too much of that is unhealthy, I need to do it enough to find out who I am and what I want from life.
And, finally, because Vermont this time of year is supposed to be breathtaking. Who hasn’t seen the magazine and Instagram photos of tourists visiting the state when the trees are morphing from normal green forests into art-exhibit-worthy yellow, red, and orange masterpieces? I was thrilled at the idea of being someone who has been to the state during the time of year when seemingly everyone hopes to visit one day.
It occurs to me, though, as Sky and I are walking down the street outside his parents’ house, that I haven’t yet taken in Vermont at all. On the forty-five minute drive from the airport to here, I was sitting next to Sky, and—as much as I don’t want to admit it—it’s pretty hard to focus on anything but Sky when he’s near me. This is exactly the derailment I wanted to avoid. Now I’m with Sky and it’s dark, so I wouldn’t be able to check out my surroundings even if I forced myself to. Instead, I’m looking ahead of me toward a cul-de-sac. Neither Sky nor I seem to know what to say to each other.
“Do you remember on the plane when you asked me when I felt the freest?” he finally says once we reach the end of the cul-de-sac.
I’ve got to admit, as I was imagining ways this conversation might go, I wasn’t expecting him to bring up that, or anything we talked about on the plane. At least not until we discussed what all that talk at dinner was about.
But, okay. At least it’s conversation.
“Lagos, Portugal, 2013,” I say, recalling what he told me.
He nods and blows out a breath. It’s cold enough that I can see it in the space between us, and the amount of space it takes up makes me think there’s a big story here.
He has a seat on the curb. Apparently, this is one of those conversations we need to be sitting down for. Great, not nervous at all here.
I take a seat beside him, sitting close because I’m cold. Okay, because I’m cold and because it feels really good to be next to him.
I’m annoyed with myself but can’t really deny it anymore. I’m pulled to Sky in a magnetic way, and I don’t know what to do about it.
I watch Sky look down at his hands.
“I had just broken things off with someone,” he says. “Someone who meant a lot to me. We were about to move in together, but I told her I wanted to break up instead because I thought I wanted freedom more. I bought a ticket to Portugal to celebrate my decision, and there I was on the beaches of Lagos, the freest I’d ever felt, and . . . the most unhappy.”
He looks up at me now. One of the things that draws me to Sky is how his face so clearly shows his emotions. So many people make you guess what they’re feeling—myself included, at times. It’s refreshing to be around someone who’s the opposite. But I don’t like seeing the emotion he’s wearing right now. Regret isn’t a good look on anyone.
“I know I fed you that stuff on the plane about wanting to be free, but I think that’s an old story. It’s what I wanted for so long, so I tend to act like it’s still true. But ever since that trip to Portugal, I’ve realized that what I really want is to never make that same mistake again—and that’s hard to admit to just anyone, let alone . . . someone like you. But it’s the truth. If someone comes into my life who I think there could be something with, I want to explore it.”
I nod, processing. “And just to be clear, I’m the someone in this scenario, correct?”
He laughs on his exhale and I chuckle too. It feels nice to laugh after the intensity of this evening. Under the chuckle, I’m a little irked, though. Because while Sky might have been feeding me a line on the plane, everything I’ve told him so far is true.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t honest from the start.”
I like that I didn’t have to call it out. “It’s okay,” I say, and I mean it.
He wraps an arm around me and I lean right into him. I’m not sure how it’s possible to feel this comfortable with someone I just met. I’ve heard people talk about this, but I have never experienced it until now. I guess it’s yet another thing I can add to my Vermont Bucket List, then check off. The problem is I’m here to make a dent in the things I wrote down before I arrived here.
With this in mind, I force myself to sit up and scoot back a bit. “I like you, Sky. At least, everything I know about you so far. Except for your family. They suck.” He laughs again. I pause, then continue. “I meant what I said at the table, though. I came to Vermont to find myself. I don’t plan to fall for someone.”
He nods as if he hears me, briefly looks down, then meets my eyes again. “What about just a little?”
I’m sorry, did he just ask if I’d be open to falling for him a little? It’s a good thing it’s dark out, because color is working its way up my neck.
I want to tell him that his ability to make comments that affect me as much as this is an answer to that question. Sky isn’t the kind of guy I could ever fall halfway for. He’s the kind of guy I could potentially lose myself in, if I’m not careful.
Then again, I don’t really know him. Maybe I’m overthinking this. What if he’s only affecting me so much because we have great chemistry and we haven’t kissed yet? Perhaps all I need to do is get him out of my system.
His mouth is inches from mine now, as if he’s ready to put my theory to the test. A beat later, he does.
His lips connect with mine briefly at first, as if they’re saying a quick hello, and then longer, as if they’d very much like to wear out their welcome. The contact shoots down my spine, and as the kiss stretches on even longer, that electric desire buzzes higher, crackling and snapping on my skin. When he pulls back, I feel a flash of loss.
He brings his hands to his lips right after. “Dammit,” he says.
I’m shocked by his response. And confused. “What?”
He lets out a deep breath and leans back on his hands. “I was hoping that wouldn’t be so good. Because I want to respect your wishes, Harper. But now . . . I’m not sure how I’m going to do that.”
I blink. “What were my wishes? I forgot.”
“I hope you’re being serious.” He comes closer. “Because I’d really like to continue.”
I am being serious.
But, seriously, Harper! I shake my head once. Then again. What am I doing? What am I saying?
“No, don’t snap out of it,” Sky begs, seeming to read my mind again while taking my hands in his.
It’s too late. I already have. I should have never let it get this far.
“Sky, I’m not looking to get into a relationship,” I reiterate. “Plus, how would a relationship between us even work right now? I’m going to be here for the next three months, and you’ll be in Atlanta.”
“I could visit,” he retaliates.
“You hate Vermont.”
“I have a reason to like it now.”
“We barely know each other. What’s the point?”
“We know each other enough to know we want to find out more. That’s what dating is all about.”
“You don’t want to get married.”
“Whoa.” A smile creeps onto his lips. “You’re already thinking about marriage? So you definitely do want to date.”
I sigh. “That didn’t come out right. I just mean at some point in my life, I want to get married. You said on the plane that you didn’t want that, so there’s no point in dating in the first place when our long-term goals aren’t aligned.”
He lets out a sigh even deeper than mine. I’m not sure if he’s frustrated with what I said or upset with himself for confessing his opposition to marriage. “That’s part of my old story too,” he tells me. “If I met the right person, well . . . let’s just say I’d be open to it.”
Before I can say anything back, he squeezes my hands, then brings them up to his lips and blows. At first, I think he’s trying to be seductive, but then I realize he’s trying to warm me up because I’m shivering. I somehow only just realized this.
“Come on.” Sky pulls me up with him as he gets to his feet, then takes off his jacket and drapes it around my shoulders. “Let’s argue more inside.”
“If we’re already arguing this much on our first date, isn’t that an indication of the future?”
“So you agree we’re going to have a future?” he asks as we start back.
“Don’t be funny. This is serious.” I reach out and smack his stomach.
He pretends to be wounded, but there’s no way he even registered that because all my hand felt were abs. Plural. Of course, he has to have more than one of them.
“I am being serious,” he says. “I seriously want to date you, Harper.”
Ugh! He makes it seriously hard to protest when he says sweet things like that.
—
Once we get back inside, I’m relieved that Sky doesn’t make us rejoin the dinner table. He tells me to go upstairs to his bedroom while he goes back into the dining room to tell his family I’m still not feeling well. He’ll bring up some plates for us to share.
Before we part ways, though, he pulls me toward him and gives me a peck on the lips. This isn’t your average peck, though. Sky’s lips are pressed to mine as if he’s trying to make me dizzy. He succeeds.
“Last door at the end of the hall,” he says, nodding to the stairwell, then giving my ass a pat.
Pet names I didn’t think I liked. Butt pats I didn’t think I liked either. Sky is making me rethink a lot of things.
When I enter Sky’s childhood room, I find that it doesn’t resemble a teenage boy’s bedroom at all. Sky’s parents must have repurposed it as a guest room when he moved out. There is one bookshelf that appears to still have some of his high school paraphernalia, though, and I’m drawn toward it.
I pick up a picture of him posing in a green-and-white football uniform. Should have figured he was a star athlete back in the day, given the abs I felt earlier.
When I set that down, I spy several trophies that I’m expecting to be for football or another sport, but upon closer examination I see that they’re for math and spelling bee competitions. Athletic and smart. Even my teenage self would have struggled not to develop a crush on the guy.
