Page 66 of On the Line

Sitting upright in bed, my feet planted on the floor, I lean my elbow on my thigh and check the unread text from James.

Morning! I’m having a park day today. Join me?

I grin. Pleased by James' initiative.

Morning Jimbo. Sounds like a plan to me. Want me to come pick you up?

I stand up and head for the shower, my phone pinging in my hand on the way.

I’m already here. :) It’s Dulford Park near my house. I’m next to the community garden, you can’t miss it.

Sounds good. I’ll be there soon.

I wishI knew how to paint. For the image of James in her blue summer dress, sitting on a blanket with the sun’s rays bouncing off cotton candy hair, makes me want to spend countless hours immortalizing her likeness.

Instead, I do the next best thing and stop walking before she notices me, taking a few pictures of her from afar. When I’m done, I resume my way toward her. She’s busy focusing on a sketchbook in front of her, paintbrush in hand, concentration creasing the space between her brows.

She smiles brightly when she finally spots me, butthere’s a greedy part of me that wishes I’d stayed unnoticed so I could spend my day just staring.

“Hi,” she says softly, her lips glimmering with gloss. Looking up from where she’s sitting, her eyes slightly squint behind the sunglasses perched on her upturned nose. They match her dress, the lenses blue but transparent, with a small gem-encrusted heart at the bottom right.

“Having a good day, princess?” I ask as I kneel down beside her, kissing her on the cheek before settling on the blanket.

She dunks the brush into a small plastic cup full of water and leans back on her hands.

“Better now that you’re here,” she says with a coy smile, looking up at the sky.

A warm trickle of relief flows through my veins at hearing those words, followed by a flurry of butterflies deep in my stomach. I didn’t realize I needed to hear her say that so badly. Our last conversation had left me insecure, making me wonder if she even really liked me.

“Is that so?” I watch her long hair fall off her shoulder, loose against her back. I lean over, idly twisting a strand around my finger. “Miss me?”

Her smile grows wider. “Like how you missed me last night?”

My hand falls to my lap. “What do you mean ‘like how I missed you last night’?”

Her laugh is effervescent but I start to sweat. “You don’t remember?”

“Remember what?”Jesus fucking Christ, what the hell did I do? Did I really drink that much?

“You called me when you were out.”

I fall silent. Her words have unearthed a vague and hazy memory of me on the phone while I smoked acigarette outside the bar. But what was said during that conversation is anyone’s guess. “I called you,” I repeat.

“Yeah,” she replies, tonguing her cheek, her eyes slowly sliding to me. “You really don’t remember?”

“Barely,” I say flatly, pulling out my pack of smokes from my jeans pocket. “I didn’t say anything too embarrassing, I hope?” I mumble around the cigarette between my lips.

“Youmight find it embarrassing. But I think it’s adorable.”

I groan. “Adorable? Great, there goes my allure,” I say only half-jokingly, taking a long drag.

She giggles. “Don’t worry, you didn’t say anything too incriminating.”

“At least give me something, sweetheart, I’m dying over here,” I counter back.

Her smile turns smug. “You told me my hair reminded you of cotton candy and that I tasted just as sweet.” She chokes on a laugh but continues, “You also told me that you’d rather be cuddling with me in bed than watching Alec try to get laid at the bar.”

I smirk, tapping the ash from my cigarette into the grass. “I thought I embarrassed myself, but that was just the truth.”

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