Page 6 of Blurred Love

As soon as I get to the truck, I start handing napkins and utensils through the open window to Teresa.

“What was that about?”

I look at Abby’s retreating back. “I’m not really sure.”

Teresa leans out the window. “Poppy, what’s going on?”

I shake my head, not wanting to go into detail. I love Teresa, but I know that whatever I tell her will be told to anyone and everyone that will listen when she works her shift at the shop this week. “Nothing is going on. I was just catching up with Abby.”

Her eyes light up. “You know Abby? Do you know her brother, Zach? He is hot with a capital h.” She holds her five fingers up. “I just need five minutes alone with that man and…”

She rambles on, but I have trouble paying attention because my thoughts go back to Colter and everything I said to him. I feel a deep regret for all of it, and as soon as I get the truck back to the bakery and go home, I’m going to text Colter and just hope he forgives me.

CHAPTER4

COLTER

My phone dings, and instead of looking at it, I rub at my eyes. As soon as I got back from my run, I took a cold shower and then had to take some meds for my headache. I hate taking pain relievers, but sometimes it's the only thing that helps. I should have worn my glasses even in the shade today. I know better, but I guess I was too busy watching Poppy.

Two minutes later, my phone reminds me that I missed a text, so I roll to my back, taking the phone with me. Fully expecting a text from Davis, Kanan, Elias, or Jason, I’m surprised I have a message from an unknown number.

I click on it and scan the text and then take my time and read it again.

“Hi, Colter. My name is Poppy. I’m the woman from the food truck today. I hope it’s okay that I’m texting you. I got your number from Abby. Anyway, I would like to talk to you and apologize to you for my behavior. Will you call me?”

I sit up in bed and stare at the phone. My mind starts to race, and I have to force myself to relax and slow down. I’m not able to compute or make sense of things like I used to, and when my mind races, it makes it damn near impossible to make sense of anything.

I take a few deep breaths, read the text again, and then start typing a response. I have to read it a few times to make sure it sounds right, but eventually I push send.

“Hi Poppy. You don’t owe me an apology. I’m sorry if I bothered you today. It won’t happen again.”

I put my phone down and then pace through the living room and back to the bedroom. Back and forth I go, waiting to hear the ding of an incoming text. As soon as I hear it, I’m jogging to the bedroom to check my phone that I laid on the nightstand.

“I do owe you an apology. I shouldn’t have said the things I said and I truly am sorry.”

I sit down on the edge of the bed and try to figure out what I need to say to her. I don’t want her to feel bad. Obviously, me being there today, watching her spooked her, and I don’t want to scare her in any way. But I also don’t want her to think that I thought any of those things she said today either. I type out a text and send it before rereading it.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, but you’re forgiven. I’m sorry for watching you work for the almost three hours you were stationed at the Rehab Center today.”

I scan the text I just sent, and my stomach drops. I sound like a stalker. I admitted to watching her work for three hours. I mean, I won’t be surprised if the police show up and arrest me for stalking. I toss the phone onto the bed and lay back with a groan. It only takes a few seconds for my phone to ding to let me know that I have another message.

Refusing to read it, I cover my eyes with my arm and wish the whole situation away. I hate the person I’ve become. I feel like I’m always saying the wrong things. I question everything I do, say, and think, and even though the therapist says it’s normal, none of this is normal to me.

I’ve always been assertive and confident, and I thought I was getting back to being that guy, but the first woman that I have any feelings for, I fall apart at the seams.

The phone dings again and then again.

Unable to resist, I stretch to reach for it and read the incoming messages.

The first text says. “You were watching me work?”

I groan again, knowing how awful that sounds.

The next text says, “I thought you were offended by me. Or upset or something. I didn’t know you were watching me… I thought you were scowling at me like I was bothering you somehow.”

I tilt my head to look at the phone. Bothering me? How the hell could she have been bothering me? Before I can ask, she sends another text. “Can we please talk?”

I drop the phone because there's no way I’m going to talk to her. I can’t. I’ll stutter through the whole thing and embarrass myself more than I already have.

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