Page 69 of A Minute More

A laugh bursts out of me and some of the hot tea splashes onto my fingers and wrist.

I hiss as I lick it up, setting my mug down and wiping my hand on the blanket.

“You okay?” he asks, and I nod.

“I’m fine, but you know what would make me feel better? You telling me why you didn’t go to college.”

Simon sighs and it’s only when I rub a hand across his cheek and mutter, “I just want to know you,” that he opens up.

Just a crack. But it’s enough to let the light through.

“I did have a full scholarship to Harvard. For computer science. I had plans…”

I don’t breathe as he speaks, not wanting him to stop unveiling himself to me.

“And then I met someone. Someone who changed the course of my life, and I gave it all up.”

The look on his face is somewhat broken, somewhat sad, and I wonder for a moment if he lost the love of his life. The notion bothers me more than it should.

Me. I’m it for you, Simon. Not him. Me.

But it’s a silly thought. We barely know one another. We’ve just been acting on this intense pull we have toward each other.

That’s all this is. It’s all it ever will be unless he opens up.

“Do you regret it?” I ask, and Simon blinks and sighs.

“Sometimes. I wonder…I wonder what would have happened if I’d never met him. If I’d met you first.”

My heart thunders in my chest, and I feel my lungs struggle to bring in air. I don’t know why he has this effect on me—why I feel so drawn to him.

“Can I show you something?” Simon asks and “yes” slips from my mouth so easily.

“You need to get dressed for this,” he says, and I’m on my feet before he finishes speaking, quickly pulling my pants and shirt on. A laugh escapes Simon’s mouth at how excited I am, and the sound is so beautiful that I freeze, my shirt half on my body.

“What?” he asks, looking suddenly shy, his smile slipping.

“You just look real fucking pretty when you laugh…when you smile.”

Simon’s cheeks flame, and I move toward him, caressing his cheek.

“I want to see you like this always.”

A stuttering breath escapes him and he glances away. “Come on,” he says as he pulls on a long-sleeved shirt and his sweats. He toes on some shoes, and I follow him to the door.

We walk side by side down the street, the evening air enveloping us. It’s warm and balmy, but the breeze makes it less stifling.

Simon’s hand brushes mine, and I take it, intertwining our fingers. A small squeeze from him has my heart in a flutter. There aren’t a lot of people out at this time of night, but I barely notice. Just feel Simon’s hand in mine, feel him next to me. I exist in the vacuum of Simon Wise.

I am consumed by him.

I don’t even know where we’re going, just that he’s guiding me.

“So, I never got to go to school for this, but…I’ve been working on building something.”

He pulls a set of keys from his pants and steps up to an unmarked door, unlocking it and pulling me inside. It’s dark and slightly musty but a second later the light flickers on. I blink, taking in the small industrial room. It’s stark and cluttered with shelves lined with parts and books, but then my eyes land on Simon who is grabbing something from a desk and holding it in his hand.

“What’s this?” I ask, and Simon stares at the floor before peeking up at me.

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