Page 6 of Unhurried Hearts

“Berg and the girls, Isaac and I.”

“Perfect. This week was so busy. I need a chill comfy night so bad.”

“Oh, andChriswill be there too,”Ashlyn adds.

I close my laptop abruptly at the mention of Isaac’s best friend, warmth travelling up the column of my throat. It’s been months since I’ve seen him.

“Anna?”

I twist away from my kitchen on my barstool to face my bed, “Yep, I’m here. That sounds…”

It sounds like anything but a chill comfy night.

I groan. “Now I’m nervous.”

My phone buzzes against my ear as Ashlyn requests to add video to our call. When I click the button to accept, she pops up with her eyes as round as saucers.

“Oh my god, you’re blushing.”

“Stop. You know I have a crush on him.” I hop off the barstool and throw myself down on my murphy bed, covering half my face with a pillow. I hate how juvenile that sounds. Acrush.

One I’ve been harbouring since the day I met him. Patiently waiting for the moment when I wasn’t an inexperienced “prude”.

“Don’t be nervous. Be excited! Wear something cute.”

“I wanted to wear sweatpants!”

My cousin laughs. “You can wear whatever. I’ll stop bugging you.”

“I’ll be over here figuring out how not to turn beet red every time he looks at me.”

“I gotta go to the store to get some drinks. See you tonight.”

“Buy a lot of them!” I yell right as she hangs up.

I still remember meeting Chris last year when he was all dishevelled after a day at work with a t-shirt that clung to his chest and work pants that showed off every damn hill the guy had ever hiked. It’s a scene imprinted in my brain. On the inside I was melting, on the outside I shut down that broad smile and firm handshake as soon as possible. It was around the same time I stopped seeing Darren. That’s the non-mortifying way to say, ‘was humiliated by.’ It took me twenty-eight years to get intimate with a man and only two minutes for him to tear me down. Mushing my face into my pillow doesn’t prevent the memory of that night.

“Am I doing it right?” I asked.

“What? I need to teach you to jerk a cock? Are you a virgin?”

I nodded.

“Great.” He rolled his eyes. “You want me to go slow or something?”

When Chris walked in the kitchen that day, I was raw from the recent reproach, and I haven’t been on a date since. My general disposition during that period of my life was cold, served over ice, with a side of chilliness. Darren took all the progress I’d been making toward owning mysexuality and putting myself out there and punched a hole right through it with a handful of hurtful words. Chris, reading my vibes loud and clear, never asked me out and I only have myself to blame. Since then, I’ve watched him from a distance, wishing things would have been different the day we met.

Later, I stand next to my bed and glare at the mountain of clothing staring back at me. Black pants. Black jeans. Black sweater. Black skirt. I’ve been in chic business owner mode for too long and now ninety-five percent of my wardrobe reflects that. Normally, I wouldn’t care what I wore to go hang out with my cousin and her boyfriend. But now that the guest list has changed, none of the outfits sprawled over my bedspread feel right.

“What are you doing?” I groan, embarrassed at myself for the effort I’m putting into this choice.

Chris isn’t a fancy guy. He’s usually in filthy work clothes or dressed for the outdoors. And yet, I can’t seem to shake the idea of turning his head. I dig in the back of my tiny closet, pausing as my fingers slip across smooth fabric. A floral sundress with the tags still attached. Guys like those, right?

The drive to the old house Isaac inherited from his grandmother takes less than ten minutes. He’s worked his ass off to bring the Craftsman back to its former glory.Ashlyn’s touches are everywhere. Namely, the gorgeous flower beds in the front yard and the eye-catching flower stand with aSold Outsign at the end of the driveway. I’m the last to arrive and I battle with the urge to adjust the neckline of my dress and mess with my hair. Berg is off in the grass playing with some hula hoops with his daughters, but Ashlyn, Isaac, and Chris are seated on the deck around a low table. I can make out the smoky waves of heat rising off the grill.

“Hi,” I set my purse down next to the only available seat, a folding chair.

Everyone returns my greeting, Chris’s deep voice standing out the most. I smooth my dress under my bum before sitting. As the chair brushes the back of my thighs, it tips sideways, and suddenly I’m tilting too.

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