"This is probably going to be the last time I come over," I informed Scott.
He stood on the other side of the kitchen island watching me pull out my phone to start recording. I could feel his eyes carve into me and my heart raced in response. With my wits on edge, accidents are bound to happen and with my phone came the entire inside of my bag. One of the things being the book of his that I had read. His eyes locked on the book and he brought it up onto the counter along with my bag.
Mumbling a thank you, my hands clumsily attempted to hit the record button. His eyes were still on the book, causing my cheeks to begin there inevitable crawl to a deep shade of red. Why was he so drawn to the book? Was it so strange for me to have his book in my possessions? I cleared my throat in hopes of bringing his attention to me. Pulled from his thoughts with my voice he slowly places the book on the island top.
I pressed record before starting, "What was your childhood like?"
"You're reading my book." He answered in response to my question still looking at the thing.
"Read." I corrected to past tense.
"Did you like it?" He continued to ignore my attempts on changing the subject.
My eyes snapped up from the book in his hands to his eyes and then fell to his lips. The very lips that could quite literally change my minds view on anything and everything. I watched as his tongue instinctively licked his bottom lip. The words, his very own written words, flooded into my mind and start to project onto him. The world seems to be at peace for once. Our hearts calm hum being the only sound wrapping itself around us like a warm sweater would on the coldest day of the year. I'm in his arms, him drinking in the sight of me, drunk off his scent and lost to the drug of him.
AH. I instantly closed my eyes and took a deep breath snapping myself out of what I had put myself into. I couldn't be thinking about this guy's lips. He's a whole adult and it's very inappropriate.
"Umm, let's get back to the question. Your childhood?" I asked again refusing myself the privilege to face him.
"It's actually not my favorite work. I felt as if it was too cheesy, but of course, the public ate it up."
"I mean it is a book about a boy and a girl going against her parents' wishes. So, very Romeo and Juliet." I replied.
He let out a breathy laugh before responding, "Yes Alex, but at that moment in time I was in love with her, and everyone around us disapproved for trivial reasons."
"Someone not liking you? You're an actual perfect. You're a gentleman, and my parents love your manners." I started, but he cut me off.
"Yes, Alexandria, but being nice can take you so far in the adult world. You need more than just manners to be in a relationship. I don't really expect you to understand since you're still so young. You're at the age for you to have fun and love freely."
Sitting there nodding at his reply feeling my heart tighten in my chest made me realize I have never felt so small. I knew I was still super young and immature but having him say it back to me really made me feel some type of way. I really wasn't in the mood to sit here anymore. My feelings are acting haywire and his words constantly hurting me.
"So, your childhood," I said one last time through clenched teeth hoping to bring the topic back onto the reason as to why I was forcing myself to be here.
"It was pleasant. Had a mother and a father. I grew up in this same town went to school here. Played football. I was like many my age. Very normal and knew that I just loved writing enough to want to turn it into a career." He said quickly with a faraway look in his eye.
