Page 60 of Love on the Waiver Wire
Fuck Leo. Fuck our expectations. Screw taking things easy and slow. This? Yeah, I want this for the rest of my god damn life.
A sniffle interrupts my thoughts, and I quickly look back at her.
“Are you, are youcrying?”
“No,” she says, sitting back in her seat and wiping her eyes.
“Open your eyes, Peaches.”
I can tell she doesn’t want to, but eventually she does what she’s told. I reach across the island, grabbing her chin between my fingers and bringing her face closer. Her eyes are bloodshot and watery, her nose red from the alcohol. The freckles that dot her small nose stand out against her flushed skin.
“You okay?”
“Yeah,” she sniffles. “I don’t know. God that was so hot. Like, I’m so incredibly turned on, kind of hot.”
I chuckle. “Then why are you tearing up?”
“Owen you’re cutting onions.”
“We’ve discussed.”
“Do you seriously not tear up while cutting them?”
I look down, realizing what she’s talking about. I’ve never had an issue with them personally, but I know my sister hates them.
Letting go of her, I hang back, scraping the onions into a bowl and covering them with the board. “And here I thought you were tearing up because of hot turned on you were getting.”
“Honestly I was getting pretty emotional,” her voice is low as she wipes her eyes, her mascara smudging.
“Okay pretty girl, I’m going to start the actual meal while you tell me why you’re going through a whole bottle of wine, alright?”
She nods, her eyes holding a guilt I can’t quite place.
As I busy myself sautéing the onions and getting a big pot of water boiling, I give her some bread. She takes a chunk, smearing butter onto it before popping it in her mouth.
“I didn’t give you that so you could make yourself busy. Spill it.”
She sighs, shooting me a look before going back to fidgeting with her hair.
“I’m just stressed about this show. I’m stressed about life, and I’m stressed about us.”
“There’s a lot to stress about,” I nod. I can be a serial stressor too; I know how it is.
“I just want this show to be over, I want Leo to not be as overbearing as he always is, and I want things to be figured out. I’m tired of stressing over what this is,” she gestures between us, her eyes flashing to mine before looking back down at her hands.
I want to tell her not to stress, but I know that’s a load of crap coming from me. I’m stressed about it too.
“If it makes you feel any better, I’m also having a hard time figuring it out.”
She shakes her head, her waves cascading down her back. “That doesn’t make me feel better. It makes me feel worse.”
“I’m sorry,”
She huffs, and within a second, her hand is around the wine bottle once more, pulling it toward her. I intercept it, carefully pulling it back to me. “Why don’t we save this for when we actually eat?” I ask, setting it down.
While she’s amusing me, I can tell I’m mildly irritating her.
She doesn’t say anything, just sits back and watches me some more.
