Whispering With You

19. Choosing positivity even when you're swimming in negativity.

Kelly

"KNOCK, KNOCK." THE SUDDEN VOICE CUTS THROUGH the quiet, pulling me from the space I'd gone to inside my head.

I look up from my seat on the rocking chair to see a beautiful woman perched on the porch stairs of my new house. White-blonde locks frame her face, the loose strands blowing around, trying to conceal the beauty. I have an urge to brush them behind her ears just so I can have a clear view of the smile painting her lips. It's a sight I haven't seen in a few days, and it takes me a minute to realize I've fallen into a trance trying to get my fill of it.

"Since it's apparently our thing now to show up uninvited, I thought I'd repay the favor," Sutton says, pulling me back into the present. "With gifts." She holds up a six pack of beer and a bag of homemade cookies. I eye the bag of treats suspiciously.

"Snickerdoodle, huh? Are you sucking up? Should I be concerned?"

"What? A girl can't bake a guy his favorite cookies just because?"

She climbs the stairs and instantly becomes distracted, her eyes snagging on the opposite corner of the porch. "A swing!" she squeals, setting the items in her hand down before rushing toward the wooden porch swing I hung a few days ago.

Sinking into the bench seat, she instantly sets it in motion, rocking back and forth. I try not to focus on how good she looks there, how right the scene feels, and instead concentrate on the notepad in my lap. I'd been in the process of making a list before the ultimate distraction herself showed up unexpectedly.

"Kelly!" she sings, drawing out my name into multiple syllables. "Join me." She slows her swinging and pats the spot next to her. "Take a break and sit with me for a bit."

Grumbling, I stalk across the porch, dipping onto the seat next to her. "Happy?" I ask her, but one look at the lightness in her features answers the question for me. I smile despite myself, relieved to see the sadness missing from her face.

Without thought, I brush away the flyaways from her face, but it's pointless since the wind snatches them back up and twirls them around again. Instead, I trace my thumb over the curve of her bottom lip. "It's safe to assume your brother/sister time was productive?"

I feel her smile under my thumb and I'm stuck staring at her mouth. Finally, I pull away, clearing my throat, quickly returning my attention to the notepad in my lap. I hastily jot down notes, taking up where I left off moments ago before the beautiful distraction swept through.

I can feel her eyes on me, and when I can't take it any longer, I risk a glance in her direction. She's staring at my hands, an odd expression on her face. "What's going on in that brain of yours right now, baby girl?" I can't resist asking.

She glances up, a pink flush tinging her cheeks. "I always forget you're left-handed."

"Oh yeah?" I ask, trying to decipher why that would make her blush. "So you're continually relearning this fact about me?"

"Mmm hmm," she hums, averting her eyes. "I've always thought lefties were sexy."

I chuckle, the statement catching me by surprise. "Sexy?" I raise a questioning brow at her. "There are a lot of things to find sexy, baby girl, but writing with your left hand does it for you?"

She shrugs. "I guess so. It's the posture while they're writing, I think. Look, show me. Write something."

I eye her a moment before giving in and return my attention to the notepad, quickly scribbling words onto the paper. She leans closer to me, pointing out how I'm hunched over while I write, running her fingers over my shoulders and down my arms. The sensation stirs a slight shiver from me, and I will myself not to move in case any movement spooks her and is the direct cause of her removing her hands off me.