Page 13 of About Time You Noticed

The comedian told more jokes about Costco, then went on about his experiences while traveling.

"I love the Irish people. When half past the hour, I'd approach a stranger and ask them, ‘What’s the time?’" He grinned and put on an Irish accent. "Seven-Tirty."

Sarah covered her mouth. The guy was funny.

"In Venice, Italy, I bumped into this burly, six-foot-ten giant. In a high-pitched voice, he swung around and said, 'Excusey.' You can't get mad at a full-grown man that says, 'Excusey.' And the giant smiled after he said it." The comedian tilted his head and bared his teeth, mouth ajar, "Excusey."

Tommy turned to Sarah, gritted his teeth, flashed his pearly whites, and repeated, "Excusey." His eyes crinkled at the corners.

Sarah burst out laughing. Joining in, Tommy flung his head back and whacked the wall. He rubbed his crown indulging more laughter. Rolling onto his back, he grabbed at his ribs, his head upside-down beside her leg. Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes, trailing into his hair. She couldn't help but laugh too. He was funnier than the comedian.

Gasping in air, he croaked, "Too funny. Oh man, it hurts." His upside-down smile looked like a wide frown. She erupted in giggles at the sight, imagining marker eyes on his chin like he’d drawn on his face when they were kids. He had loved to make her and Becca laugh.

"Wait right there."

Tommy blinked and froze, half in the middle of a hyena cackle.

She lunged toward the coffee table and grabbed a pen resting on a pad of paper. Hopping back on the sofa, she lifted his head and settled it on her knee. "Stay still."

"I'm a statue. Not moving."

Sarah proceeded to draw eyes on his chin and tiny nostrils under his bottom lip. "Remember when we were kids, and you would make up stories."

"I remember." He lopped his arm to the floor and snatched the pillow that had fallen when he’d rolled onto the couch. He used it to cover his eyes and nose. "Excuse-he."

Sarah laughed, and his head bounced on her leg. She released another stream of giggles.

"What's the time? Seven-Tirty, my love."

Tommy role-played until her sides hurt and she begged him to stop.

When he sat up, she bit her bottom lip.

"Here, I’ll take it off." She licked her thumb and grabbed his chin.

He gripped her wrist. "No, you don't."

She stared at her thumb, and her cheeks burned. "Do you want to walk around with pen eyes on your chin?"

He released her. "Sarah, you're not my mother.” He glanced at her lips. "You're definitely not my mom." His gaze darted toward the coffee table. "And she doesn't get to do that anymore." His grin returned. "When I was eight years old, and realized what she was doing, I decided no more thumb-lick-cleaning for me."

Sarah cocked her head to the side, her cheeks hurting from all the smiles. Years later, Tommy was still a lot of fun to hang out with. Despite her being shy and quiet and him outgoing, they got along well.

Tommy rubbed his chin, smearing the ink. "I needed that laugh. I've been way too serious lately." He studied her, a small smile remaining as his gaze roamed her face. "Worried about a certain someone, more than I should be."

She stilled, drawn in by his large brown irises and sensing a real connection. He cared. "You don't need to worry about me."

Tommy tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "You keep telling me you can look after yourself. It doesn't stop me from worrying, though."

She leaned away and made a face. Sitting close and him brushing her hair, it felt like a step beyond friends. But Tommy didn't have those kinds of feelings for her. He was like a big, affectionate brother.

Sarah swallowed. "What are you so worried about?"

"Ready for the truth?"

She frowned. "Of course."

"I'm afraid I'm going to lose you." He pointed between them. "What we have now. We can't be hanging out if you get serious with someone else."

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