He rolls his eyes. “You are zero fun.”
“And you’re nosey,” I say before unlocking the medicine cabinet and readying the syringe.
As I move through my day—a solid mix of paperwork and patient care—I can't shake the feeling that the secret of my night with Calvin is written all over my face and I'm not fooling anyone. I've always dreamed of feeling a connection like this, the kind that consumes your thoughts and makes you feel so in tune with another person that you can practically finish their sentences. But what does that mean for my carefully constructed life? I'd long ago resigned myself to the belief that such intense, all-encompassing relationships were the stuff of fairytales and romance novels, not real life.
Yet here I am, going about my daily routine with a heart full of butterflies and a mind dizzy with memories of Calvin's touch, his laugh, the way he looked at me… I feel like I've found something so rare and precious that I want to run around and tell everyone how lucky I am. But at the same time, I know I have to keep this hidden from the outside world. It’s…complicated to say the least. Especially when I seem to be an object of curiosity for all the other staff and players at the Fury today. The way they glance at me with knowing smirks and raised eyebrows whenever I step into a room is enough to give me nervous hives. Do they know something? Or do I really have that ‘special glow’ I overheard the receptionist tell the intern I had when I walked by?
By the time lunch rolls around, it’s getting out of hand. The assistant coach used some pretty suggestive eyebrow wiggling when he asked if I'd gotten some good news recently, and even the janitor made a comment about how happy I seem while he was mopping the hall outside my office.
I'm a bundle of nerves, and this secret relationship hasn’t even lasted a full twenty-four hours yet. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to navigate this when I feel like I’m tiptoeing through a minefield of inquisitive co-workers. I’m normally so invisible, so this sudden change is a lot for me. Just as I’m about to dive into my Caesar salad, which is not nearly as appetizing as the lingering taste of Calvin’s kiss, my phone buzzes.
Calvin:
Tell me when I can see you again.
I bite my lip as I read it over and over. It’s not a question. It’s a demand. If I close my eyes, I can almost hear his voice, low and teasing, in my mind as I imagine him leaning against the wall with that devilish grin of his, demanding my attention.
Before I can give it much thought, I pick up my phone and type back.
Me:
You’ll see me tomorrow morning at pilates.
I hit send and press my lips together, trying to stifle my smile as I watch the dots on his end dance and stop, dance and stop. Until finally he messages back.
Calvin:
Not soon enough.
How about dinner? My place. Tonight.
I stare at the message, my heart pounding. Dinner at his place? Tonight? Shit. Am I ready for that? We've only just begun and we’re already moving so fast. Shouldn’t we just pump the brakes a little and take things slower? Or is it too late for that now?
As my mind races with the possibilities, Calvin sends through another message.
You can either come to mine or I’ll come to yours. Either way, this is happening.
I take a deep breath, my nerves on high alert but my body simply singing with possibility.
Me:
I'll see you at your place tonight.
Calvin:
Good choice ;) I'll text you my address. Come around 7?
I grin, my cheeks flushing at the thought of being alone with him again, of picking up where we left off last night and maybe even going further...
Me:
I'll be there.
And then I add…
I can't wait to see you.
Calvin: