Page 28 of That Stranded Feeling
As we laugh together, I drag my hand off his arm before I end up leaving it there for an embarrassingly long time. I wrap it around my glass to keep it otherwise occupied.
“Anyway, when I graduated, I moved to LA to be with my college boyfriend, because that’s where he’d gone for work. But he turned out to be a spineless ass right before my grandparents died. They left me this place, and now”—I hold a palm to the ceiling— “here I am.”
“Hmm.” His mouth curls up at one side. “You might have left something, or rather,everything, out of the last part.”
“Well, the shitty boyfriend part doesn’t matter anymore. The part where I’m here is all that matters now.”
“It sounds pretty terrible, though.”
“It was. I mean, obviously, I was heartbroken. I lost the man I thought I was in love with and my amazing grandparents in the same month.”
“How did they die?”
“Grandma had an aneurysm. Out of the clear blue sky. She had a headache. And then she died.”
“Awful.” The concern on his face looks deep and real.
“I’d heard things about people dying of a broken heart and assumed it was some romantic nonsense. But I honestly think that’s what happened to my grandfather. He’d been healthy his whole life. But he died four weeks later.”
“What did they say it was?”
“Stress-induced cardiomyopathy.”
“So, like a heart attack?”
I shrug and press my lips together to try to stop my chin from wobbling.
Owen lets the silence hang for a second, before speaking softly. “And now you live here, all cozy in your grandparents’ place, knitting things, and making Elsa happy by chucking snowballs for her.”
I smile, my eyes moist with tears that haven’t yet fallen. “And we’re doing great. She’s my world.” I watch her side rise and fall as she naps by the crackling fire. “She gave purpose to my days and brought me back to life. Without her I might still be lying right where she is now, crying into the rug.”
As hard as I try to hold it back, one tear spills out and trickles slowly over my cheek.
Before I realize what’s happening, he leans in, pushes my hair back from my face then wipes away the tear with his thumb. He leaves his fingers resting against my cheek and looks at me in silence.
And there it is again, that fizz in the air between us—that spark, that connection.
If he can’t hear my heart thumping, he must be able to see the tremble run through me.
Braver than I’ve ever been in my life, I place my hand over his and press it against my face.
I’m suddenly aware that we’ve both moved closer. Our foreheads are almost touching.
“You’ll leave tomorrow,” I whisper. “And we’ll never see each other again.”
He nods. “I’ve thought that too.”
I look into his eyes and try to see his soul like I’m sure he can see mine. “That means you can't ever hurt me.”
He laces his fingers with mine.
“Also.” I turn my face into his hand and plant a gentle kiss on the palm where I pulled the sliver from earlier. “You’re sexy as all hell.”
9
SUMMER
Holy shitbags. I’m about to kiss a virtual stranger. An exceptionally hot, virtual stranger who’s sitting on my sofa drinking my grandpa’s whiskey.
