Page 8 of Christmas in July

“I realize that,” I tell him with a nod, “and I sincerely apologize for napping on your shoulder. But I’m an independent woman, and I don’t want to cramp your style or depend on you, or inconvenience you.”

“Whatever you wish,” he says, taking my hand and placing a gentle kiss on the back of it. “But I definitely hope that I’ll see you again.”

“I doubt it,” I tell him stubbornly, pulling my hand away and turning to look out the airplane window. Because he still gives me butterflies. And his cologne smells so delicious that I want to eat him up as a snack instead of my stale airplane pretzels. But that does not mean I should get overly excited or attached. I am a logical, reasonable woman and I know nothing about this beautiful stranger, other than the fact that his writing is quite good, and he has a stylish laptop, stylish suit, stylishly trimmed hair and beard.

I wonder what his manscaping is like? Dammit Leilani. Stop.

“Maybe we should at least exchange numbers, in case we want to meet up when we’re in Snowflake Creek,” he suggests gently.

“I would rather not,” I tell him softly, although it makes my insides ache. I am unable to look back at him, because his sweet face will cause my insides to melt again. He does not respond.

There we go. I’ve pushed him away. I’m sure he’ll give up now. I’m too stubborn and difficult for most men to handle. After everything I’ve experienced, I’ve learned that the best way to protect oneself is to shut it all down early. Especially if the feelings of infatuation are too strong.

Whether they are jerks or gentleman, no one has the energy to put up with a shrew, as Shakespeare called it. Or as we call it in today’s society, a megabitch. Better that we part ways now, before we get too attached, and before we start thinking there could be anything real between us.

I’m sure it would only end up with both of us getting hurt, if we go down that road.

Better to give up before it starts. It hurts less that way.

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