If Only

C H A P T E R 4

BLURRED LINES

RAVEN

She poured syrup on her pancakes and ate.

"Boyfriends?" I asked not willing to drop the subject.

"Does it really have to be in the plural?" she countered, drank from her cup then picked the fork up. Taking bite after bite of the pancakes, she did not answer my question.

I stopped eating and focused entirely on her. Not giving up, "high school sweethearts?"

She sighed and pointed at my plate using the fork in her hand, "eat up, Rave."

Picking a strip of bacon, I continued my ten questions, "college jock lovers? Lovers in general?"

Her brow rose, "again, plural?"

She shook her head at my persistence. She gently pushed my plate to me urging me to eat, "you need to eat more than that to keep you up and healthy."

Acceding, I wolfed down the pancakes. I was about to do the same with the omelet when I choked.

I panicked and held on for dear life as I waited to blackout. Giving up, I allowed myself to feel my constricting airway.

"Drink," a glass was pressed on my lips and a hand tilted my head, "slowly."

I did as instructed and felt the clogging on my throat free up. The hand rested on my back and carefully rubbed in circles, "there, there..."

I leaned on to the hand and looked up to find concerned brown eyes trained on me.

"That'll teach you from eating like a pig," I could sense her worry behind the chastising words.

She went back on her chair but did not eat.

"I'm sorry," I quietly said, ashamed for making a fool out of myself.

Yet again.

We sat in silence, my head downcast.

"None," I heard her say.

What does she mean?

Raising my head to meet her, I tipped my head to the side, not understanding.

"Boyfriends... Sweethearts... Lovers," she picked up her cup and paused not looking at me, "none of those."

My heart quickened its pace and soared–happy at the revelation.

Such a wondrously lovely woman and nobody snatched her up.

"You're drooling," she said before she sipped on her drink.

Jerking into action, I immediately wiped on my mouth and chin. I stopped when I heard peals of laughter from her.

"I was just pulling your leg," she said.

I joined in her laughter–not holding back, "you are something else, Miranda."

She gave me a lopsided grin and motioned for me to get back to eating breakfast, "slowly this time, Rave."

I nodded.

I will not make a habit out of making a fool out of myself, especially not in front of you.

We chat and ate at a comfortable pace. I asked questions about her which she truthfully answered. She begged off questions she found too personal and I let her. I didn't want her to feel like I, a stranger, was intruding.

I learned a lot about her and made a mental note to type everything down before falling asleep tonight. I turned my eyes on the tablet on the empty chair beside me.