I went on to the next one.
“If you get kidnapped, I’m not paying your ransom.”
That one had Aaron snickering. I snuck a glance at him with a smile, before picking back up on the rest of the messages on my phone.
The next one had me snorting. “They’re going to harvest your organs and throw you in the ocean. Tell Shamu I said hi. We’ll remember you.”
He snickered even louder than I did before taking a sip of his beer. “That’s pretty messed up.”
“I told you she’s crazy. Okay. Wait, listen to this one. I’ll name our next goldfish after you.” I had to lower my face to my hand to laugh, and heard Aaron doing the same thing. My mom. My freaking mom.
“What do the rest of them say?”
I was still cracking up as I read the remaining texts to him. “You’re going to give me a heart attack. Why are you trying to kill me? You were supposed to be my good girl, not like these other dipshits. Do you not care about my health? I’m too young to die from a heart attack. Do you even love me?” It was one thing to know I was related to drama queens, but it was another thing to be faced with it via text messaging. “These are from my sister. You’re a dumbass. I should’ve gone with you. I’m not joining any search parties going to look for you. I’m never going to wear the dress you made me if you don’t come back. There’s a few repeats… Squirt, you shit, tell me you made it.”
That last one had my heart hurting, and there was no hesitation in me as I typed out a reply to my mom and another to my sister.
I love you too. Made it to Panama City safe. Aaron already picked me up. Everything’s good. Text you soon.
You can borrow my clothes but touch the ones I have folded on the floor and I’ll put Nair in your shampoo. P.S. I love you too.
“Did you tell them you made it?” Aaron asked.
“Yeah, and that I’d message them soon. My sister threatened to borrow my clothes, and I told her if she took the ones I set aside to take with me to visit our dad, I’d put hair removal cream in her shampoo.”
He raised one of those blond eyebrows of his, a slight smile playing at his pink mouth. “Is she skating again?”
“She’s going early in the morning just by herself still, but she hasn’t worked out with her coach since her last competition. She’s been skating longer each day from what I overheard her coach tell my mom on speakerphone the other day. They’ve been watching her on security footage, but no one has the guts to confront her about it.”
“She’s still mad at you?”
“She was.”
He nodded, his hand still propping up his chin, his other one still resting loosely around his bottle. Those brown irises continued lingering on me. What in the world was he thinking?
I fought the urge to fidget and cleared my throat, trying to be a lot more casual and easygoing than I really felt. “So, you left your friends at the beach house?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Aaron caress the beer bottle with the tips of his fingers. “Yeah, but knowing them, they’re probably sleeping, even though I’m the one who drove all night.”
“You didn’t trust them driving your truck?”
The blond man smirked. “No.” He paused and took another sip of his beer before setting it down on the wood surface of the table, loudly, peering up at me in this way that made me even more self-conscious. “I didn’t want to overwhelm you bringing a bunch of people you don’t know to the airport,” he explained at the same time the pads of his fingers made a trail up the neck of the bottle. His gaze was on me as he said, “And I wanted to hang out with you first. Just us two.”
Of all the responses I could have come up with after that, I said “Oh.”
Oh.
When in reality it was more like, are you trying to kill me? That he knew me well enough to understand I’d feel overwhelmed… I wasn’t going to overthink it. I couldn’t. I wasn’t about to stew on him wanting to hang out with me first either.
Either my tone or blah response must have unsettled him because, for one brief second, a flash of hurt crossed his eyes, but it was gone before the next blink. He smiled at me tightly. “If you’re not comfortable, there’s a couple motels on the way to the house instead—”
He thought….
“No, no,” I stammered. “That’s not it. You’ve done—you’re—” Why couldn’t I get my words straight? “I’m still a little nervous. You’re just—” Too surreal. Too perfect. So much more than I ever could have imagined.
But I said none of that.
“What?” he asked, cautiously, like he didn’t know his billboard-belonging face could reduce anyone with a pulse to a mess of blood and bones.
I mean, I’d grown this giant crush on him just through e-mails. Having him face to face was almost too much to handle when he looked the way he did. But I couldn’t tell him any of that. I knew why I was here. Because he’d connected with me too, because he’d liked me.
As a friend.
Like a little sister, he’d told me that one time recently when he’d been drunk.
That was all…. Even if the T-shirt he had on showed off pecs that demonstrated he’d definitely been hitting the gym regularly while he’d been stationed in the desert and had biceps and forearms that were lined with lean muscles. I could see, but I couldn’t touch as anything more than a friend could or would.