Xavier
"It's totally reasonable to miss someone so much it hurts, right?" I asked Georgia.
"When you haven't seen him for five days?" She held her hand in the air, then waved it side to side. "Kind of? Maybe I'm the wrong person to ask. Even when I'm head over heels, I like lots of Georgia time."
We were sitting on benches that faced each other in the garden, trying to enjoy the afternoon, even though the dropping temperature meant there were more and more leaves on the ground every day. I zipped up my light flannel jacket, then sighed up toward the sky. "Maybe it's good he has to work all the time," I said. "It helps me not get too obsessed with him."
Georgia chuckled. "You're not too obsessed? Sure about that? Because I'm pretty sure this was the first time I've ever gotten you to dish about a date without having to poke and pry for half an hour first."
I laughed and kicked some of the leaves across the ground. "I mean, you asked why I was returning the baseball gloves."
She laughed, holding her hands in the air. "Like I said, as long as the equipment wasn't used, I always give a refund. Why should it matter what it wasn't used for?"
I caught her eye, then rubbed my palms across my pants. "Really, though," I asked, "you don't think I'm being silly? I mean, he's going to move back to New York. He's probably headed there in a car right now, in fact. He's the kind to plan ahead and avoid the Friday evening traffic."
"Yes, he's very good at everything," Georgia teased. "But to answer your question, no, I don't think you're being silly. Finding someone you connect with is rare, and finding someone who is compatible with your very specific kinks is even rarer. Your lives might have to diverge next summer, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't enjoy the time you do have. Hell, if anything, it means you should enjoy it more."
I brightened up. It sounded so simple when she said it that way.
I just wished she would be around later, when I inevitably started freaking out about how hot Dominick was again.
"Thanks for saying that," I said. "It helps. Anyway, how's the bidding war for the bar going? I haven't stopped to ask you about your week."
Georgia shrugged, and the wind went through the tree beside the park, making the shadow across her waver. "I put in a new bid, more than I probably should pay. The bank is giving me a good interest rate, at least. The previous owner is taking forever to decide, though. And apparently, that corporation angling for the property has deep pockets."
"If you lose the bid, maybe you could open your own bar, somewhere else? You might even be able to find a location you like better."
"Maybe. It's not like my dream is to own a bar, though. It's to own that bar."
"Your dream?"
Georgia laughed. "My latest of many."
Suddenly, a large beeping noise cut through the garden, startling both of us. Usually, the plants were full enough that you couldn't see to the street, but with the seasonal plants fading and shrinking for the year and fewer perennials coming back, I only had to stand up to get a look above the vine-wrapped fence. Creeping down the street was a white van, followed by a large truck, which itself was pulling something that looked like a gigantically oversized tiller.
"Oh crap," Georgia muttered. "What now?"
I stood there, my mouth hanging slack, while the row of machines pulled up to the street outside the garden. Slowly, a crew emerged from the vehicles with tools in hand. A woman in her thirties jumped from the van in front and started glancing between a clipboard in her hand and the garden.
YOU ARE READING
Sweet Sensations
RomansDon't blush. It will just make you look sweeter... Whack! Smack! Slap! Xavier That sound has always made my heart flutter. Especially after a fateful game of truth or dare in college. Awkward freshman, meet dreamboat senior. Humiliating. Except I'm...