Page 160 of Falling Backwards
L U K E
“Jesus,” I groan as I haul myself out of my driver’s seat.My back and legs aren’t happy with me; yesterday’s first try at Maggie’s exercise routine is speaking up this morning.“HIIT and I are not friends.”
On the other side of the car, she chortles even as she agrees, “I feel ya.”We close our doors, and while we head for the sidewalk, she gestures around at the sunny park.“A walk will be especially nice today, hm?Relaxing?”
“Yeah, for sure.”After a beat, I admit, “You’re tougher than I am, doing those kinds of workouts as often as you do.”
“Nah, it just takes some getting used to.”She pauses, too, before laughing a little more.“I say that like I’m some seasoned exercise person.I’m not.And I don’t go all-out every time I do it.AndI don’t do it every day.Really don’t know what I’m talking about.”
We come to a stop in front of each other on the sidewalk.I drop heavy hands onto my hips, and she gives me a light lift of her chin.
I want to step up to her, take that chin in my fingers, kiss her hard and long and slow.
I’ve thought about it—daydreamedabout it—so many times since yesterday morning.I kind of hoped the desire would ease up as more time passed, but it hasn’t.It was with me during our conversations and during work and when I dropped her off at home later.It was with me when I woke up alone today and during me getting ready to see her and through every other minute leading up to this one.
Plain and simple, I haven’t gotten anywhere near enough of her.All I’ve had is a knot high up in my chest from how I want more with her.I wantbetterthan twenty seconds of kisses we barely talked about.
But we still haven’t talked any more about any of it, much less done anything more about it.We’re still teetering.Neither of us has made another move.
And I know we’re just getting ready to go for a walk on an unremarkable Sunday, but for some reason, the sight of her right now is kind of perfect.It’s somewhere between cool and pleasant out here, so she’s in leggings and a dark pink sweater.Her hair is down and fluttering in the faint breeze.And her expression is even and calm because it seems she truly doesn’t think she has any right to give exercise advice, like her recent experiences don’t mean much.
“What?”she asks.
“What?”I echo.
“What are you smiling about?”
I realize Ihavestarted smiling at her a little.
And she’s doing it back to me.
My lips fucking ache for hers.
I mentally shake myself, raise an eyebrow, and work to keep my tone light.“Am I not allowed to smile at you just because?”
She presses her lips together, then shrugs.“Oh.I don’t know.”
“Well, why areyousmiling atme?”
“Because you smiled first and I liked it.”
Maybe that should seem like the cheesy kind of honesty, but it doesn’t.
Maggie’s eyes are so green out here with the sunlight and the faded grass and the pond.So, so green as they drift over my face.
They draw some of the truth out of me even though I hadn’t actually been trying to keep this particular bit from her.“I was smiling ’cause you’re gorgeous and you’re goofy for trying to belittle how hard you’ve been working at your exercise.You shouldn’t do that.Your experiences are helpful to hear about.”
Once again, she presses her lips together and lifts her shoulders, all shy-like.And once again, she lets her eyes go over my face; I feel it exponentially every time they hit my mouth.
Cheeks pink, she says, “Okay.Thank you.And…well, I don’t wanna sound like a know-it-all, that’s all.”
A laugh bursts out of me.How can she say that with a straight face?
As if she knows what I’m thinking, her sweet look goes flat.
I reach out and drape an arm over her shoulders, then tug her with me as I turn and start walking.“Oh, Magnolia.”
“‘Oh, Magnolia,’what?”
