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CHAPTER SEVEN
Simple Changes
Logan
As I study Stephanie, I notice simple changes in her appearance. Her hair seemed longer and shinier, and her bright green eyes held noticeable flecks of amber that weren’t there before, but it was the curve of her smile that changed the most. It didn’t reach her cheeks the way it once had when we were teenagers.
Wondering if the change had something to do with me, I realize the girl I once knew is gone, and the Stephanie sitting in front of me was no longer that awkward teen I selfishly protected. This version of Stephanie is a woman I know very little about. I want to get to know this woman and let her know me.
My thoughts go into overdrive. They race as I calculate all the events and possibilities that led me here today.Back to Stephanie.Watching the way the sun dances across her features, I wonder if it’s a good idea to give in to my feelings again?
Wrestling with the possibility, I watch as the breeze catches Stephanie’s hair. Reaching up to brush it out of her eyes, I couldn’t help myself. “What’s on your mind,Sweet Girl?” I ask, moving her hair just slightly away from her face.
Chuckling at the misstep, her laughter warms me as I re-familiarize myself with the qualities I admire in her. Trailing over her lips as she spoke, she smiles when she catches me looking.
What is it about her that’s so contagious?I ask, drinking her in.
“So, catch me up on the last couple of years,” Stephanie says, leaning forward to steal another nacho. “And leave nothing out,” she adds, dipping the chip into the sour cream willingly.
Clearing my throat, I suddenly didn’t know what to say.
Do I talk to her about my parents, the ones I avoid since they both remarried?
Do I update her on my sister and immediately open that wound?
Do I tell her about the passing of my Opa and the inheritance he left me? The inheritance that has me living back in our hometown full-time?
A huff escapes my throat.
Or do I tell her about the string of relationships that went nowhere? I dated. I even tried the relationship thing, but I just didn’t feel that connection. It wasn’t because the girls weren’t good enough or that I was a player. I just felt nothing for them.
“I’m not really sure where to start,” I admit. “How about you go first?”
Rubbing her lips together, Stephanie shook her head. “Well, trust me when I tell you this is not where I thought I’d be at twenty-seven. I had dreams of being settled down, in a relationship, possibly with some kids, not working two full-time jobs,”she explains, using the drink in front of her as either a distraction or comfort. “I love what I do. I’m just getting to where I want to slow down, enjoy life more.”
Soaking up Stephanie’s natural beauty, I admire every new line and curve of her adult profile as her friends move away to give us privacy. “Where are you working?” I ask once it’s just the two of us.
Scrunching up her face, she reaches for her drink before giving me an answer. “I work at Owls,” she says, searching my eyes for a reaction to the place we used to hang out. “Elora hired me as her social media coordinator.”
“Elora? As in Betty Spears’ granddaughter?”
“That’s the one.”
“Oh wow. What a small world.”
Stephanie nods. “Right.”
“What’s your second job?”
“Writing.”
“Right, hence the reason we’re on this cruise together,” I chuckle, hoping it would break the tension. “My curiosity is getting the better of me and I have to ask, why is it that when I Googled you, nothing came up about your books or being an author?
In the process of taking a sip of her drink, I had caught her off guard, so she ended up snort-choking, trying to swallow and laugh at the same time. Turning the shade of a ripe tomato, her eyes go wide as she pulls herself back together enough to say, “You Googled me?” in a high pitched voice.
Now I’m the one blushing, “I did.”
“I write under a pen name. Someone I could pretend had more confidence than I did when I first started out.”
