Be Rude but Love Me | ✔

CHAPTER 48 - Part I

The week flies by and before I know it, it's already Friday. I step out of the Simon and Schuster building, a tired but wide grin on my face. I still cannot believe I landed an internship as an editorial assistant, all thanks to the recommendation my Fiction Writing course teacher wrote me. In just a week, I've learned more than I ever expected. The workload is really heavy and there is no room for anything else but work. But honestly, I wouldn't have it any other way.

People almost bump into me on the sidewalk as the doors close behind me and I do my best to stay out of their way. It's rush hour after all and people are hurrying back home. I take my phone out to look for any text from Oliver but there is none. We are supposed to go grab dinner together and catch up a little bit. I haven't talked to him in a week, between his own internship and his sort-of relationship with Payton.

I think of her telling me she loved him and that she wasn't going anywhere. I am dying to know how things are working out between the two of them, if Ollie is letting her in. She really seemed to care about him and I know she's got his best interests at heart. I wanted to call her or message her and ask but we aren't close friends and I felt like it would be a little intrusive to do so. However, I won't have the same reservation with Ollie. I will squeeze every little detail out of him.

Realizing that Ollie is late, I decide to call him. My bag is weighing down my arm and I put the straps over my shoulder instead as I hold the phone up to my ears. It rings endlessly as I dial Ollie before it finally goes to voicemail. I curse and try again, scanning the crowd for him but I can't see his mop of brown hair anywhere. And anyways, there's a ton of people with brown hair passing by.

When it goes to voicemail again, I adjust the bag more securely over my shoulders and use both my hands to type a message, asking where he is. I'm looking impatiently down at my screen, expecting an impending message when I feel a gaze on me. I have no idea how, in this gigantic mass of people rushing back home in New York City, I can feel someone looking at me. I just do.

So I lift my head.

And I meet a pair of electric blue eyes.

My reaction is prompt: heart beating faster, suddenly out of breath, heat crippling over my skin. Complete and utter astonishment seizes me as I find him there, looking as he did only a week ago. It feels like a lifetime ago, though. It feels like it was so, so long ago when I last saw him. And it makes missing him even more unbearable.

He's standing a few feet away, watching me. I can see his hands deep into the pockets of his khaki pants and for a moment, I allow myself to think of how weird it is for me to see him in something else than jeans or sweatpants. His shirt is the color of his hair, black. He looks so different from the guy who wore sweatpants and t-shirts and I can't help but wonder if he's changed, if he's begun acting more... rich.

The color of his eyes keeps flashing on and off like a wavering light as people bypass him and I can't see his eyes for a second before I can see them again. I'm not sure how long we stand there, just looking at each other, his eyes in and out of view.

I'm still petrified, still under a spell as I stand on the sidewalk, phone in my hands, bag dangling off. He seems rooted to the spot as well, as he remains there in the middle of all these people, quietly observing me.

At last, he takes a step forward and comes before me. I can't take my eyes off his, can't seem to look away during the few seconds it takes for him to reach me. I do not let go of his gaze once, I don't think I even blink until he's right in front of me.

"Hi," he says, a mere whisper over the buzzing around us. I'm not sure if I really heard it or if I just read it on his lips.

"Hi," I say back.