Cinnamon, Blueberries, & Other Subjects to fill a Book of Poetry

Chapter 13: Guilt

One month and, six weeks. That's how long it's been since the first time Reese stayed the night and, if I may be terribly dramatic for a minute, completely changed my life in a way I wasn't sure was possible. He would undeniably needle me if he knew I'd been counting.

I think about Reese.

He occupies a majority of my thoughts when I have nothing else to focus on, I notice, and I don't think I have a problem with that. There've been quite a few times where one of my co-workers has snapped me out of my thoughts to ask why I'm grinning to myself for no reason. Reese is my reason. I definitely think I like saying that. I sigh, dragging my thoughts away from him and back to my computer, fully aware I am glaring at the blinking blue line as if it personally wronged me when in reality it had done no such thing. I force myself to write, but don't get more than a couple lines out before my mind drifts again

"They're not bad people." I remembered; defending my co-workers, again, to Reese once over coffee.

Reese's nose had scrunched up at that, meaning he didn't quite agree with whatever I had just said, but that he was going to bite his tongue and not say anything about it for my sake. I think I definitely liked when he did that, it reminded me he cared. He didn't say it much, but after studying him as long as I had, you get good at reading all his little signals. It was how he was. He loved between the lines, meanwhile I would shout my feelings for him in the middle of main street if I thought it would please him. Maybe that's something to be ashamed of, but I don't think he minded all that much.

"They're good Christian people just trying to do their best." I'd explained to him, bouncing my leg absentmindedly. He had reached over and put his hand on it as he drank his coffee,

"Are you?" He'd asked. I'd frowned,

"Am I a good person?"

"No, I know that already. I meant, are you Christian?"

I had said yes in the moment, because of course I was, it was how I grew up. But the more I thought about it, the more I realised that I wasn't sure if it was so cut and dry anymore. I kept turning it over in my head, going back and forth. Yes and no. I hadn't been to church since before I graduated college and God knows I haven't prayed in forever. I think he probably does, actually. Could I even say yes? Was that even an option I was allowed to have anymore, when I'd committed such a cardinal sin? Could I even believe in God and be with Reese? Maybe not.. Still when I think about Reese in my bed, with my face in his chest and the sheer overwhelming presence of him. Well, then I think I most definitely believe in god. Because what other than a higher power could make a moment so wonderful? Could make a person so wonderful?

I'm snapped out of my blissful thoughts by one of my co-workers stopping by to ask something inane about one of her articles. I'm immediately bored. She's twirling her hair and leaning on my desk and I'm vaguely aware that she might be flirting with me, the thought makes me laugh. I make a mental note to tell Reese about it later. She finally excuses herself and leaves to write about.. whatever it is she said she was writing about. I feel a twinge of guilt for not paying attention to her, but then my phone goes off and any guilt I felt dissipated in a heartbeat.

coffee?

Of course. I'll be there in five?

-Sam

cool

I feel myself grin as I get up, any notions of writing completely thrown from my mind. Some other time, I promise myself. I think I never used to be this excited to go for coffee before. He's already at my usual table when I get there and I can't help but grin because it's our table now, isn't it?

"Hey, Sammy." He waves me over and I speed up a bit despite knowing how ridiculous it is.

"Hey to you too, A- Reese." He gives me an odd look and I feel a bit of worry roll around in my head. Soon, I promise myself, it's just all too new right now. I hope he doesn't mind. He slides a blueberry smoothie across the table and I feel my chest tighten from the gesture. "Thanks." He nods, sipping his own coffee.

"This place isn't half bad."

"I'd hope not considering how often I take you here." I laugh. The corner of his lip twitches and I can't help but want to kiss him. For a blissful moment I consider doing it, then I hear someone else enter and it snaps me back to my senses. I feel the worry wind tighter.

"Earth to Sammy." Reese waves his hand in front of my face and I realise I had spaced out. "Where'd you go?" He asks softly, in that tone of voice he uses when he thinks I'm getting caught up in my head. And, it's almost enough for me to want to say 'fuck it' and kiss him anyways. Almost.

"Nowhere. I was just thinking." He gives me his best 'bullshit' look, which is pretty good, and I shoot him a smile. "Just.. my latest article. It feels like pulling teeth trying to write it." I offer, it's technically not a lie, and he seems to buy it.

"Y'know, for a journalist, you sure struggle to write anything." He teases and I can't help but laugh. He's not wrong.

"I think that's just part of writing. I mean, I hope so, or else I'm doing something terribly wrong." 

"What're you writing this time?" I roll my eyes.

"I might as well be writing nothing." He quirked an eyebrow as I sipped my smoothie, "Jean has me writing a puff piece about how the Fourth of July weekend is apparently also the town founder's 100th birthday. It's awful journalism, truly." As I regale him with one of the most boring topics known to man, I can't help but take note of every little thing he does. The way the corner of his mouth twitches. How he tosses his hair. How he puts his hand on my knee when I start to get on a roll and it bounces. Everything. It's all so /him/ and it all makes me want to kiss him. Touch him. Anything. I can't help but feel a twinge of anger at the fact that I can't. I think about how unfair it is. I wonder if Jean would let me write a piece about /that./ I know she wouldn't. That makes me mad two. I look over at Reese and he's smiling at me.

One of these days, I promise myself. 

One of these days.

"Y'know, you're right. That's pretty fucking boring." He laughs after I finish my story.

"I know!" I grin, draining the rest of my smoothie. I chew on the straw for a minute as a roll a thought around in my head before asking, "Are you busy on the 4th?"

"No. My tia never really celebrated it and I kept up the tradition." He shrugged, "Besides, you can't get a good view from my apartment."

"My place has a great view!" I offer quickly. And, loudly, apparently, because one of the baristas shoots a judgy glance my way. I feel my face heat up.

"Sammy, are you inviting me to watch fireworks with you?" He teased, leaning forward. I bite my lip, determined to actually get a proper invite out.

"Well, not just the fireworks. We can make a day of it, right? There's always a lot to do in town around the fourth. I think I've been invited to /at least/ five barbecues this week alone." I ramble. 

"And, you want to take me to one?" He's giving me that surprised look again and I wonder which part catches him the most off guard, the fact that I want to spend the day with him or that I want to take him out with my friends. Either option makes me want to scoop him up in my arms and tell him how amazing he was. Granted, I'd like to do that regardless.

"Well, not if you don't want to go. I just thought.. maybe it'd be nice..." I have to forcibly stop myself from pulling away when he reaches across the table and grabs my hand, I think I hate myself for that. He's grinning when I look up at him and I don't feel like I deserve it, but that doesn't stop me from being elated with what he says next.

"Sounds like a date."