Cough Syrup

Staring at Me

Can I bring YOU dinner tonight?

Elena smiled at the text message while slowly spinning in her office chair, although she quickly realized she needed to school her smile. Her coworkers tended to be very nosy about her personal life, and smiling at her phone was a clear indicator something was up. But it was difficult not to smile when Christian texted . . . or when Christian called . . . or when Christian FaceTimed while on the road. They had been doing all those things frequently the past two months.

I already have chicken in the slow cooker for tacos. :)

She wasn't surprised when Christian texted her back instantly. If he wasn't playing baseball, he was always speedy with his replies. At least his replies to her.

You have to let me take care of you one of these days. You take such good care of me.

Elena bit her lip. Christian didn't know it, and she didn't realize it fully either, but he was taking care of her. She needed a friend. A friend who didn't know her before she lost her husband. Someone who didn't default to sadness when she was around. Someone who didn't pity her.

You have such little free time. I'm just happy you share some of it with me.

All he needed to do was show up at her doorstep, and she was in a better mood.

I can't wait to see you tonight, Elena. Only eight or so more hours to go. I'm going to start a countdown on my phone.

Elena chuckled.

Let's just hope no extras. I can't wait to see you either.

She regretfully put her phone aside knowing they both had to get back to work.

***

Christian's game had gone two extra innings, so she knew he would be famished. She stuffed three tacos just the way he liked them – a lot of meat, just a little bit of vegetables, and a touch of sour cream – and added a generous helping of Spanish rice to the side.

Christian was at and through her front door 30 seconds after she finished his plate. They had a routine now, and he no longer had to knock.

"Hey, b—Elena. Fuck, that smells good," he greeted her with a grin. It was hard not to call her baby. It seemed like he was coming home every time he walked through her door. It wasn't a feeling he was used to, and he wanted to talk to her about it. He was ready. He needed her to help him define their friendship.

Elena appreciated and fell into his warm embrace before he sat down at the table to eat. As always, she cleaned the kitchen while he finished his dinner. When he finished, they retired to the living room and watched television. It was simple, but it was them.

Elena watched Christian fidget – squeezing his knees. She could tell he wanted to say something. "You okay?" she asked her friend softly, moving a little closer to him on the couch.

"I like you, Elena," he whispered, turning his body slightly to look her directly in the eyes when the words left his lips.

"I like you, too, Christian," she replied with a small, soft smile. "Quite a bit," she added.

"I mean, I like you. I want to . . . be with you. Just you. I don't care if we have to take things slowly. I don't care about any of that. I just don't want to lose this good feeling I have when I'm with you."

Elena was confused. They hadn't kissed. The hadn't even held hands, really . . . She was taken aback by his attempt to define the relationship before anything had really happened. But she didn't want to lose the feeling either. "I don't want to lose it either," she replied quietly, biting her lip when Christian moved a hand from his knee to hers.