Page 82 of Love You Madly

CALLIE - JULY 12, 2013

My heart is racing as I wipe down the counters in my new kitchen, trying to keep myself busy and calm the nerves fluttering in my stomach. I’ve been looking forward to seeing Owen, but the anticipation is almost too much to handle. The past few days have been a whirlwind, and now, he’s on his way to help me move into my new place. We’ve talked so much, shared so much, but this will be the first time I’ve ever seen him in person.

I glance at the clock, knowing he’ll be here any minute. I try to focus on the task at hand, but my mind keeps wandering back to our conversations and the connection we’ve shared. It’s strange how someone can become so important in such a short amount of time.

Every word we’ve exchanged, every laugh shared–it all comes rushing back, making me realize how deeply he’s impacted me. It feels surreal that he’s about to step into my world, making the transition from virtual to reality. I wonderif he feels the same anticipation, the same nervous excitement.

The sound of tires crunching on the gravel driveway pulls me out of my thoughts. I peek out the window and see a truck pulling in. I swear my heart falls out of my ass. His truck looks so much like my first vehicle–a ‘98 green Chevy S-10. Thanks to a crazy request that I made to my dad when I was little though, my S-10 had flames on it. I try to talk myself out of thinking that this must be some sort of sign.

What are the odds, right? It’s like the universe is playing some kind of joke on me, or maybe it’s just a coincidence. Either way, my heart feels like it’s trying to beat its way out of my chest. What will he think of me in person?

I take a deep breath, wiping my hands on a dish towel before heading toward the door. Butterflies fill my stomach as I turn the knob and step outside. It feels like a scene from a movie, where the whole world stops and focuses on one moment.

Owen steps out of the truck, and for a second, time stands still. He looks just as I imagined, maybe even better. His presence fills the space around him, and I can’t help but feel drawn to him. He’s here. He’s really here.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

We start to walk toward each other, and with each step, the anticipation builds. I have to force myself to stay calm when all I want to do is shriek with excitement and hurdle myself into his arms.

Stay calm.

When we finally reach each other, he wraps me in a huge hug, lifting me slightly off the ground, careful not to squeeze me too tight because of my growing belly.

I close my eyes, savoring the feeling of his arms around me, the warmth of his embrace. And he smells sofucking good – like citrus, sea salt and eucalyptus. It’s overwhelming, and I have to remind myself to behave. No matter how strong my feelings undeniably are for him, he has a girlfriend and I will not be the other woman.

“Hey, Callie,” he says softly, his voice sending shivers down my spine as he rests his chin on the top of my head.

“Hi,” I reply, pulling back slightly to look at him. Our eyes meet, and for a moment, those corny montages in the movies make so much more sense to me.

I suddenly feel self-conscious about my outfit–pink capri sweatpants and a gray cami. I wish I had worn something cuter, but I needed to be comfortable. My hair is probably greasy and I should have thrown on a hat. Being pregnant in July is bad enough without adding moving into the mix. His gaze is warm and reassuring, though, and I can tell he probably doesn’t notice I look like a hot mess.

We stand there for a moment, just taking each other in. The connection between us is palpable, and I can’t help but feel hopeful for what’s to come. I take a deep breath and remind myself to keep my feelings in check. Owen is with someone else, and I need to respect that.

But I don’t want to.

“It is so great to finally see you, Callie,” he says, taking off his aviator sunglasses to rest them on top of the bill of his Chicago Bears hat. His eyes are a deep and soulful brown, dark as freshly brewed coffee.

There’s so much that I want to say to him. However, “Ditto,” is all that comes out.

We stand there like that for a little longer than we probably should. But I feel like I’ve waited so long for this moment. Why did he have to go and get a girlfriend?

For the same reason why you were fucking Matt,I remind myself.Because we aren’t together.

When we finally break apart from the hug, I can’t help but smile up at him. He’s not extremely tall but it doesn’t take much to be substantially taller than me at five-foot-three-inches. And I have to shake off the thought that we fit together like this so perfectly. “Ready to get started?”

“Absolutely,” he replies, returning my smile. “Let’s get you moved in.”

As I climb into the truck and buckle my seatbelt, Owen starts the engine. I notice him glancing around the cab with a slightly panicked look on his face. The inside of the truck is a bit messy–wrappers, receipts, and a few random items scattered around. He scrambles to gather everything up, trying to clean as quickly as possible. He obviously wants to make a good impression too. It’s endearing and makes me like him even more, if that’s even possible.

We make the short drive to my apartment and head inside. I show him the boxes and furniture that still need to be moved to the house. Owen immediately gets to work, lifting a heavy box with ease. I follow his lead, grabbing a smaller box and heading toward the truck.

He makes everything look so effortless. His strength, his charm–it’s intoxicating.

I quickly realize that moving my dresser is going to be the hardest part of this and I’m honestly not sure I will be much help. Just as he sees me staring at the piece of furniture trying to figure out how in the hell we are going to get it out of here, he runs back out to his truck and comes back with a freaking dolly he must have had in the truck bed.

This man is more than prepared and it makes me chuckle. I never would have thought to use a dolly. And I’m wondering how he even has one. I can barely plan what I’m going to have for breakfast on a daily basis, much less plan ahead for things that Imightneed.

It’s then that I notice his shirt has a logo on it for a moving company. I assume that he worked there and that’s why he knows exactly what to do. However, when I ask him about the shirt, he tells me that he actually bought it from Goodwill and wore it today because he thought it would be funny and that the furniture dolly came from an estate sale.

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