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But even as I think about the possibility of him kissing me, I have to shove those thoughts away. I'm not interested in a relationship. I'm a single mom struggling to pay my bills, and I need this job. I can't afford to date my boss, screw things up, and get fired. Because if life has taught me anything, it's that every relationship I'm in will go horribly wrong in one way or another.
Besides we’re two people from very different worlds, and I can't imagine him ever looking at me as anything more than just a good time.
“You're doing an amazing job. Keep that asparagus rolling,” I say, peeking over his shoulder and quickly squeezing the lemon onto the asparagus and butter. It's nice to work together like this and not see him as the enemy, but instead to see him as a friend. I want to help him get his health under control so he can live a long life and be there for his mother through whatever may come.
He smiles over his shoulder at me, and his gaze drops to my lips.
I swear my heart stops beating for a moment.
And for just a second, I wonder what his lips would feel like on mine before I clamp down on those thoughts and force them out of my mind. “You're doing a great job just like that.”
With that, I take a few steps back and lean against the counter, watching his technique and trying desperately not to think about the fact that I want him to kiss me.
Chapter Eight
Charles
“Congratulations.” I adjust my headphones in my ears as I speak to Arson. I'm truly happy for my friend. I can't imagine how exciting this must be for them.
“Thank you.”
“How long have you guys known?” I'm always curious when it comes to things like this, what couples decide and what makes them ready to tell friends and family.
“We've known for a little while. Both of our parents warned us not to tell anyone until after twelve weeks because some pregnancies are lost before then.” Arson sounds very matter of fact as he delivers this news and I’m quietly surprised.
“I've never heard that before.” I shift from one arm to the next, continuing my biceps curl exercise. My arm flexes under the weight of the dumbbell and Arson continues talking.
“Yeah, apparently back in our parents' day, no one said a damn thing until after twelve weeks because no one wanted to burden friends or loved ones with exciting news, then the disappointment of a loss.”
While I can see the point of what he’s saying, I'm also a little bothered by the logic. “Wouldn’t friends and family be the people you'd lean on in the event of a loss?” The thought of someone so excited to have a baby and losing that baby and not telling anyone really bothers me.
“You know, I didn't think about that. How fucked up is it that in our parents’ day you were expected to just bear the burden of loss and pain and sadness by yourself?” Arson lets out a heavy sigh, as if the weight of the world is on his shoulders.
“Exactly. Man, I'd hope you'd feel comfortable coming to me if something like that happened to you. Lean on me when the heavy shit happens; nobody should deal with that alone.” While I’m not a particularly sappy or sentimental individual, and I'm definitely not somebody who talks about emotions often with my friends, I'd like to think that if something truly terrible happened to me or them, that we'd all be able to lean on one another and confide in each other.
“Yeah, likewise. I didn't even realize how messed up that logic is.”
“It's never too late to break the generational curses of our parents and grandparents.” If nothing else, I'd like to think that this conversation will persuade him to teach his child to come to him and Laurel if something goes wrong in their lives and to seek out comfort and support when they need those things most.
“You're right.” Arson sounds grateful we’ve had this conversation as I replace the dumbbell on the hooks where it belongs. Working out of my home gym has almost become necessary, both to escape Alisha and escape the thoughts of what I want to do to her.
I came so close to kissing her last night that I’m not sure how I managed to keep myself from pulling her close and pressing my lips to hers. She’d looked so kissable and sweet, and I’d sensed she was disappointed when I didn’t kiss her.
“Anyway, we're throwing a celebration party and you are invited. It’s a plus one invitation, so bring whoever you'd like.” For a moment, Arson seems distracted, and I wonder what's going on until I hear Laurel’s voice in the background. They're a damn cute couple and I'm jealous of their happiness. I'm glad they are happy together, of course, but I wish that I could find love and companionship like they share in my own life.
“I appreciate the invitation and I'd be happy to go.” I'm racking my brain though trying to figure out who I can bring as a plus one. The first person that comes to mind is Alisha, but it would be highly inappropriate for me to ask her to go. Not that I give a damn about propriety.
The question is, would she say yes if I asked her?
“Oh, and I wanted to ask you if you know why Methew has such a hard on for you.” Arson speaks softly to Laurel in the background, as if giving me time to respond.
“I have no idea other than that a few years ago he tried to rope me into a bad investment opportunity and I turned him down.” I walk over to the parallel bars and get between them, putting both hands on the cold steel and lifting my weight. Crossing both ankles, I bend my knees and begin to do triceps dips.
“Oh, was that the big one? He lost millions in that scheme.” Arson sounds intrigued.
“The very same.” I can feel the intense burn deep in my arms as I continue to lift and lower my weight between the bars.
“Just so you know, he's been asking around at the club trying to find somebody that will beat you up or give you trouble. I caught him asking somebody to slash your tires.” Arson sounds almost amused, but I can tell from the hard edge of his voice that he’s furious.
