LOSING IT ALL //HAYLEY PARKER

29

~LOSING IT ALL~

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29| ARE YOU REALLY OKAY, HAYLEY PARKER?
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"HEY," I RETURN ABASHEDLY, mentally slapping myself for humming like an old granny in the countryside. "You're up early."

"Yes, I've got presentation by 9." He says, reaching into the cupboard for a cup and then pours himself some hot, steaming coffee. I hum abstractedly to myself, belatedly turning off the burner on under the frying pan.

"Do you care for some?" I shoot him a look, ignoring the flutter of nerves at his exceptionally clean and handsome appearance this morning. The yellow sunlight that spills through from the kitchen window hits his bronze skin in a beautiful glow.

"Maybe a little." He responds, sun glinting in his near black eyes that watches me over the rim of the cup. Again, trying to ignore the sudden increase in my pulse rate, I dutifully served him with some bacon and scrambled eggs. "Thank you, chef." He teases me when I place the plate in front of him.

"I'm hardly a chef." I scoff, untying the apron and pulling it over my head.

He takes a huge bite and volubly moans in pleasure. "I beg to differ, this actually very good."

I roll my eyes at him. "Nice try."

"Oh, I'm serious!"

"Well then, thank you." I blush, slipping a buttered toast into his plate.

"You're having classes today, right?" Dale ask, stabbing his bacon with a fork. I nod, dishing myself some servings and then wander over to the island. "I was meaning to talk to you about something very important."

I watch him with a raised eyebrow. "And, what's the important thing?"

"Meet me later at the apartment then you'll find out." He says guilelessly, popping a piece of bacon into his mouth. I open my mouth to question him, but the thunderous decent of foots pulls my attention away from him as Jennifer and Camille undulates down the steps and into the kitchen.

"That smells so yummy." Jennifer gushes, abruptly picking a plate from the dish dryer to serve herself. "God, I'm so hungry. I could eat a whole cow."

"Stop exaggerating!" Camille tsks at her, placing a kiss on my temple and waving Dale 'good morning'. And then, before I can ask him what he means by 'something very important', Dale is whisking away his plate and bolting for the door. Wonderful!

As Camille pulls her quivering station wagon into a vacant parking spot in front of the university building, I only wish I could trade my morning classes with her no classes and morning shift at Weathervane's. And throughout my mundane morning lectures, all I can think about is Dale's so very important discussion later in the apartment.

Right after my last General Physiology lecture is being dismissed by the attending professor, I'm maneuvering my way through the crowded hallway out of the building. With my head reeling about with different scenarios of possible awaiting conversations with Dale, I haul down a taxi and settle behind the driver's seat.

I pull up at the apartment complex building twenty minutes later. The benign early autumn afternoon sunlight is slanting across rows of tilted roofs as the cold wind ruffles through the colored branches of trees. I tug at the heavy, knitted sleeves of my beige sweater as I advance towards the building.

The elevator ride is a little bit jerky, but when it pings open on the tenth floor, a new nervous wave sips through me. Jabbing at the doorbell, I puff out my cheeks and quickly gather my wits about myself. A beautifully disheveled Dale answers the door barely clothed and heavily smelling of paint that is evident from his appearance.

His dimpled smile from ear to ear when he sees me. "Sorry for the way I look, do come inside." He says, shifting aside to let me pass through. The mixed waft of his cologne, musty perspiration and paint chemical teases at my nostrils when I walk past him into his apartment. A bewildered look takes over my face as my eyes roves around the room. Every available furnitures and surfaces is completely covered with plastic wraps, and as the smell of paint becomes more intense, I'm taken aback by the color scheme on the walls.

Evergreen fog and shoji white.

"Do you like the hues?" Dale asks, sidling beside me to scrutinize his work.

"It's very—masculine." I simply describe it as it is. And of course, it is.

"Yeah...." He drawls, a kitschy smile on his face when he looks down at me. "I hope you're hungry, I ordered some Chinese food."

My stomach subtly grumbles. "I'm hungry alright." I say, disposing my tote bag on a wrapped granite island. I avoid looking at the rakish look of Dale. His button down shirt is dangerous open at the throat and folded at the sleeves, revealing enough flesh to my preying eyes.

Wandering over to the french windows, I squint outside at the bustling city below. Dale returns later to join me with two cans of beer. He offers a beer and when I take it, my hand tingles at the icy temperature. "I don't think I'll stop loving the view from here." I say calmly, twisting the cap from my beer.

"I can't argue with that." Dale concurs, taking a swig of his beer, his angular adam's apple bobbling with the action. I clear my throat, embarrassed and quickly look away.

"When do you think you'll be done with this?" I ask, gesturing towards his nearly completed painting venture.

"A couple of days, maybe less."

"And then you'll move in afterwards?"

"Maybe."

A faint smile highlights my cheekbones while a dull ache blooms inside my chest. Dale sighs deeply beside me, and I turn to watch the late afternoon sunlight dance off the sharp planes of his body. "Are you alright?"

A piercing eyes to a slight raise of thick eyebrow tilts towards me. "Are you alright?"

I frown, confused. "I'm okay, are you?"

"Are you really okay, Hayley Parker?"

And then it all cottons on. When the monumental heaviness of every single hidden feelings and emotions settles unwarrantedly on my chest, I couldn't even stop myself from crumbling down right in front of him. My walls crashes down, and I'm left vulnerable, helpless in front of the man I try desperately to look strong in his presence.

"I'm not really okay, Dale."

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