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“It’s like I told you, you look like a star in that suit. You’re gonna make a scene wherever you go. You get the spotlight.”
“Ugh. Thank you for not calling the ambulance. That’s the last thing I need.”
“Lemme guess. Your mother would worry sick.”
“How do you know that?” I sigh and catch a glimpse of a set of legs walking by. I’m half in the walkway, half out of it. “I feel weird lying here like this with people walking around.”
When he crouches down, I’m not sure what he’s doing. Is he going to move me out of the pathway?
Nope.
He stretches out on the beach towel next to me. “How’s that… better? Now it’s like we’re sunbathing together. No big deal. How’s your head doing?”
He rolls to his side and watches me with equal parts concern and adoration.
Lying here with him on one towel feels so couple-ish. This beach towel is wide, but not that wide.
It feels almost like we’re lazing in a big bed on a cozy Sunday morning. Like he’s about to suggest we order take-out, just so we don't have to leave our happy cocoon.
Like he might reach out and tickle me, just to make me laugh.
Like I could inch in, press my nose to his chest, and feel his big arms wrap around me so tight, I’d know nothing in the world could ever hurt me.
“Um… better,” I whisper-stammer.
“Good.”
“How long do I have to lie here?”
“Another ten minutes.”
“Ten?”
“Doctor’s orders.”
“Are you really a doctor?”
“Ha.” The guffaw is one of those belly laughs. “I love that you’re really asking me that. Nope. I don’t have the focus. I respect what they do, but it’s not for me.”
“I dated a doctor once,” I murmur. The ground under me rolls as if it's a big water mattress. My head is still woozy, and it feels dream-like to speak out loud.
After the words come out, I’m not sure I said them.
But I must have because he’s peering at me with interest.
“Yeah?” He props his head on his elbow. “Tell me about it. I talked way too much about my ex. Let’s even things up.”
“Oh… I don’t know. It’s boring.”
“Come on. We have ten minutes to kill. I doubt it’s boring.”
“No, it’s boring. My life is pretty… hm. I don’t know if I want to go into this.”
“Ah, come on. We’ve got nowhere else to be. Humor me.”
“Well, he was technically a doctor. An M.D. But his doctorate was in dentistry. My dad’s a dentist, and this guy worked at the same office, so I bumped into him a lot. I guess we went out for a couple of months, all told. Disaster.”
“Was he always after you about using the right tartar control toothpaste or something? Coming after you with one of those terrifying drills those guys wield?”
