Page 38 of Waiting for Tuesday

He grinned slightly, wiping his face with the back of his hand, then picked up another cookie.

The bell at the front door jingled and I turned around. A tall brunette with short hair walked inside, and I instantly began climbing down the ladder.

“Can I help you?” I asked. But John pushed himself off the counter and walked toward her. Her smile widened as he pulled her into his big, strong arms. My lungs deflated and I leaned against the shelf for support.

Her figure was stunning, curvaceous, held with the confidence I’d only seen from movie stars. She wore big Hollywood glasses, a pencil skirt, and reminded me of Marilyn Monroe. And there was one thing that was certain: she wasn’t the placenta lady.

He turned around to face me. “Em, this is Tuesday Patil. Miss Patil, this is my friend Em…” But his voice trailed off a bit, and he looked at me with uncertainty.

I cleared my throat, suddenly feeling sick, but held my hand out to shake anyway. “Nice to meet you,” I said, but I could barely hear my own voice, barely hear hers as she repeated my words and shook my hand.

We made small talk for a few minutes. She asked about my products and complimented me on the shop, but I couldn’t focus beyond the fact that John had kissed me only days before. Yet, here he was, with another woman inmyshop, flaunting her in front of my face.

“So where are you two off to?” Becky asked, coming to stand by my side.

“Probably Donovan’s. I’ve been craving their fries for weeks,” Em replied. “Have you ever had them?”

Becky smiled and shook her head. “No, but I’ll put them on my list.”

We stood there a minute longer, all four of us, and said nothing. The air became thick as a fog, and John eventually took his tool belt off and placed it on the counter. “Well, I guess we should get out of here. Then heturned to me, his eyes asking a thousand questions. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

“Have fun.” I turned back to the shelf and started working.

“It was nice meeting you,” Em said, but I only nodded, too shaken to turn around again.

The door jingled at their exit. Becky walked over to me and rested her hand on the small of my back. “Okay, tell me what’s going on. And start at the beginning.”

* * *

When he came back laterthat afternoon, I was in my office, wasted. I’d spent over an hour spilling my guts to Becky, filling her in on every moment, every touch that John and I shared that I’d kept a secret… And I cried.

I don’t know if it was because of stress from everything going on, or the relief of finally sharing it with her, but it was something I swore I wouldn’t do, yet I found myself blubbering on the shoulder of my best friend as I confessed to her about a boy. A boy who had kissed me so good I almost believed in fairy tales again. Almost.

To my surprise, she hadn’t given me advice as she usually did. She asked me what I wanted—which would normally be the response I craved—yet I couldn’t form an answer. I didn’twantto figure this out on my own, but she was no help at all.

She’d left over an hour earlier, and still, I didn’t know what the hell I was going to do.

I stared at the screen on my desk, tapping my fingers on the hard surface, searching my mind for answers… but I found nothing. I knew I didn’t have time for a relationship, nor the energy… but I still wanted him. I wanted him to be mine, but it was like trying to make a home for a whale inside a bathtub. He didn’t fit the mold I had for him. He was too big, too much, too… I didn’t have the words for it.

When John entered the room, I didn't even look up. I didn't acknowledge his presence at all, just continued typing at my computer, hoping he'd eventually take the hint and leave.

He didn't. He didn’t seem bothered by my ignoring him at all and leaned against the doorway, examining his fingernails.

I clenched my jaw and continued adding items to my online cart. He was irritating, and even though I desperately wanted to give him the cold shoulder, he was making it impossible to work.

I pushed my glasses to the bridge of my nose and cleared my throat. “Can I help you with something?” My tone held an inflection you’d expect of a sales clerk.

He glanced over, taking his sweet ass time before answering. “I was just wondering when we were going to address the elephant in the room.”

My heart hitched and I moistened my lips. “If you're talking about the cookies?”

He smirked. “You know God damn well it’s not about the cookies.” He turned to face me, his legs braced apart and face sober. “I’m talking about the fact you've been giving me the cold shoulder ever since I kissed you two days ago.”

His voice was deep, layered with an urgency I didn't understand. A thousand excuses tickled my tongue, but none of them convincing enough. I pushed myself from my seat, crossed the room before I knew what I was doing, and stood in front of him. Practically nose to nose. “How can you kiss me like that one day, and bring another woman into my shop the next?”

I hadn’t meant to ask the question. It let on too much about how I felt, but it was too late. His brow lifted and his eyes bored into mine. He didn't speak for a moment, just searched my face, causing all the insecurities inside me to shake.

“Is that what this was about?” His voice was softer, kinder, but held a hint of gravel that twisted my stomach.

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