Page 28 of Until Next Time
I think it’s so damn cute, I can’t help but laugh any time I get to witness it. And hell, I’d take being the one she falls into everyday if I could. I’d be right there to catch her and put her back on her two feet, and then I’d kiss those rosy, freckled cheeks and let her know that I’ll always be there to catch her.
“Dawsen, You’re soaked in latte. I can be such a baby giraffe sometimes, I’m so sorry.” She groans.
We’re walking towards the back of the shop to the door that leads to the stairs of my loft. I turn and let out laugh, hoping to make her feel at ease, and like I’m not at all bothered about what just happened, because this is actually turning out to be a great day so far.
“A baby giraffe?!” I laugh, and question, needing more explanation. She laughs, “Yes! Have you ever seen a baby giraffe walk? Their gangly legs just going all over the place, they can barely stand upright.” I smile at her before turning to lead us up the stairs.
“Your legs are a lot of things, but gangly isn’t one of them.” I just look at that sweet face looking at me, as a soft smile appears, and I can tell she wants to press me on what I just said, but I break off her thoughts and say, “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”
As we head up the stairs, I’m trying to recollect how I left things this morning? I definitely wasn’t a slob by any means, I’ve always been sort of a neat freak, but I was also being a moody bitch last night and wallowing, and didn’t pick up the pieces of said wallowing. Not totally thrilled about her seeing pieces of me being a slob, I turn on my heel before I let us in, looking down at her, “Ahh, I’m sorry about the mess in there,” hiking up a thumb over my shoulder pointing to the door. She rolls those bigbeautiful eyes at me, “I was just here last night. Did you throw a rager after I left or something?”
I liked the sound of those words coming out of her mouth, “I was just here last night.” — She had a point. But I did manage to finish off a few more beers and I’m pretty sure those were strewn about my coffee table next to the take out boxes. “Alright, fair.” I say, turn and unlock the door. I swing open the door, using my foot to prop it open. “Ladies first.” I say, giving her a little nod. She juts her chin up at me and smiles, “Thank you, good sir.”
“Make yourself comfortable.” I say, pointing her towards the couch. She quietly agrees and pads across the room, arranging the throw pillows on my sofa and then takes a seat. I waste no time and make my way into the living room, picking up the bottles and take out boxes from the coffee table directly in front of her. “Sorry about this.” I say as I’m strategically picking it all up. “I kind of figured you were just a meat and veggies kind of guy—not a number five and a number twelve from The Happy Panda.” I laugh and teasingly say, “Are you body shaming me right now, Banks?” That got her to laugh, “Hardly… in a roundabout way I’m doing the opposite actually.” Not going to lie, that feels good. I toss this stuff in the trash, grab a microfiber towel from the cupboard and head back into the living room, taking a seat on the coffee table directly in front of Birdie.
“Ohh, so you’re saying I’ve got a body that doesn’t look like a regular patron of Saddlebrooke’s finest Chinese food establishment?” Her cheeks are even more red now, and she’s laughing. “No! Well, yeah, I mean, for heaven’s sake Dawsen, the whole reason I’m even sitting on your couch right now is because I ran into you while you were all sweating and steamy from exercise.” I smirk at her, my full attention on her, just loving every damn minute of having her here like this. I sit down on the wooden coffee table in front of her and pat my knee, signaling for her to put her booted foot on it so I can clean thecoffee splatters. She catches my drift, as she sets her foot on my knee, looking slightly embarrassed. “Wow, you’re totally calling me hot right now, Birdie Banks.” I continue to tease her, as I wipe away the coffee, which has wiped clean pretty easily, but I’m enjoying the contact, so I’m making slow work of it.
She reaches forward and flicks me on the shoulder. “Oh my gosh Daws! I am not saying or not saying anything, I’m only saying that I, along with any human with eyes, knows that you take your fitness seriously.” She covers her face with her hands and groans as I just laugh. “I’m not hitting on you, okay!” She exclaims through a chuckle and a groan.
I tap my other knee, letting one booted foot down, asking for the next, when I say “Well, that’s a shame.” I just wink at her and we settle into a couple moments of silence. I know I shouldn’t be so shamelessly flirting with her. I know it. I know better, but I’m a weak man. I can’t be around her like this, because all I so badly want to do is play and tease and wrap her up in everything good. But that can’t happen. I won’t let it.
“You know, I’m actually glad I ran into you… not physically, but like, I’m glad to be seeing you because I was needing to talk to you about something actually.” Birdie says, as I finish wiping the coffee splatters from the white leather.
“Yeah? Is that why you’re here, on a Sunday, at the crack of dawn?” I say, not making eye contact, as I guide her booted foot down onto the floor.
“Ha, yes. Well, I just needed to talk to you about the project. I think I’ll need some scaffolding to finish the mural. I’ve been doing just fine with the ladder, but I think for the details on the top half, it’d be really helpful to be able to get up closer and have my supplies with me and a bit more space to work.” She reels on, I can tell she’s nervous for some reason, probably feeling like an imposition or maybe worried I’d decline her request? I don’t know why she’d be nervous, I haven’t thought I was being a hardass but maybe I’ve been coming off that way while I’ve been trying to control my Birdie Banks infatuation since we’ve been in such tight quarters… of my own doing.
“Yeah, of course, anything you need. I’ll call Lee at the hardware store and get scaffolding here for you this week. Not an issue at all.” I say, not realizing my hand is on top of her knee, my thumb brushing against the soft denim. I move it away quickly as I see her eyes glance at it for just a split second before she clears her throat and continues.
“Well, that’s the thing, I already talked to Lee and he has no scaffolding or lifts at the shop. He said that our best bet is the hardware shop in Munsen… the next town over. So…” She trails off, and before she continues, I just interject, trying to ease her anxieties surrounding this conversation.
“Well, why don’t we drive out to Munsen tomorrow then and pick it up with my truck? It’s just a little over an hour away. I’ll just make sure Greg is here to cover for me at The Merc and South.”
Her eyes light up instantly, and I won’t be forgetting the way her shoulders relax, like the weight of the world was lifted somehow. And there’s a twinge in my gut at that. Why was she so nervous to bring this up? I mean, shit, she’s doing me the favor by painting the mural, it’s the least I can do to make sure she has everything she needs. Have I just come off as a compete and total brooding asshole this whole time? Yeah, I’ve been trying to keep my distance, but I didn’t intend to seem like a total ass hat.
Note to self:Keep distance so you don’t accidentally kiss her or say something stupid, but be close enough so that you seem approachable.
“Really? That would be so great.” She slides her hand up into her hair and brings it around her shoulder, “Thanks Dawsen.” She gestures at her boots and then shrugs, “For this and that.” I chuff out a laugh as I stand up, “Anytime, Bird.”
We both stand, and she starts making her way towards the door. It’s Sunday, it’s early, and I ask before I can talk myself out of it because once again, I’m a weak man, and the gravitational pull to Birdie’s orbit is strong.
“Do you want some breakfast?” I’m scratching the back of my neck and hiking my thumb over my shoulder in the direction of the kitchen. She pauses and rocks back onto her heels as she considers my question. I see her pull her bottom lip in between her teeth as she looks at me for a beat. Her gears turning.
“Only if there’s coffee also.” She says, as her lips purse together in a delicious way.
“There’s always coffee, Birdie.” With that, she claps her hands and strides over to meet me in the kitchen. She grabs a seat at one of the bar stools that line the side of my counter top and I head straight for my coffee pot and start filling the filter with fresh coffee grounds.
“Well this is kind of fun. It’s like family breakfast but it’s just us.” She says with a small laugh as her fingers trace circles on the counter top.
I smile, but my back is to her as I finish preparing the coffee pot to brew. “I don’t think we’ve ever had breakfast just you and I.”
“That’s not true! We used to eat pop tarts together in the morning whenever you’d sleep over at the house as kids. You were always up so early… apparently nothing has changed.”
I smile at the memory.
“Can pop tarts be considered an actual meal though?” I laugh, grabbing a pair of coffee mugs from the cabinet and sliding one in front of her.
“They are most definitely considered a meal when you’re between the ages of 5 to 18.” She says with absolute certainty, almost like it says so under the nutrition facts or something.
