It all happens so fast. One second we are having this beautiful, intimate moment and the next he shrugs his bag over his shoulder, slips into his shoes not even bothering with the laces and he’s out the door, throwing, “enjoy the food,” over his shoulder.
I stare dumbstruck, flinching when the door closes with a small thud.
What’s the Logic in Reason?
“Oh honey, it’s that time of the month again?” Freddie taunts, given everything he asked so far was answered with an assortment of grunts.
“Not now, man,” I say curtly. “I swear, I’m this close to punching something, better get out of the way.”
Freddie backs down, his hand up in surrender. “I’m heading to Poison and Wine wanna join?”
I inhale sharply. “I’m really fucking it up . . . with Anna. Royally.”
“Told you, either stop being so anal with your life-long-everything-needs-to-fall-into-place plan, or cut her off, cold turkey. Make a decision, though.”
My jaw clenches as I consider his words.
“It’s your funeral,” he says and slaps me on the back in solidarity before heading to the door.
I nod to myself, pensive, then drop to my haunches, quickly tying my running shoes. I plunge the AirPods in and I’m out the door. I don’t even warm up. I just go for it. I don’t stop and keep pushing myself faster and faster. Faster till my thoughts evaporate and I’m operating purely on running high. I’m mentally and physically exhausted six miles later when I make it back home. I hit the shower, opting to be asleep as soon as possible.
Out of the shower, I brace myself, holding the sink, still exasperated. Staring at my reflection I have to admit I’m angry mainly with myself. I’m not one to cause scenes or storm out. I pride myself on being a collected, well-mannered human. How I handled things earlier – I shake my head at myself in the mirror.
Anna is doing my head in. It’s like she came along and shuffled all the cards and handed me a completely different new deck. Anna doesn’t need this; my triggers are my obligation. She shouldn’t have to tiptoe around them or try to handle them. She deserves someone who will know how to talk to her when he’s pissed. She deserves someone to respect her no matter the state of mind they’re in. The joke is, I’ve been this person all of my life. It’s absurd. Normal levels of idiocy look reasonably decent compared to my behavior with Anna.
Walking to my room, I drop the towel from around my hips to the floor and don’t even bother with shorts. I’m exhausted. Physically and emotionally. I sag onto the bed and gaze out of the window for I don’t know how long. Coming up with a plan to somehow rectify things, I grab my phone and set the alarm to an hour before I usually get up. I toss the phone to the night table and not a minute later I’m out.
The house is still dark and quiet as I slip on my shoes and grab the car keys. I crank the car and turn on the radio. Enjoying the empty streets as the world comes to life in shades of pink and dewy greens, I listen to the song playing in the background. Not long after, I drop by a couple of places, get everything I planned to get, and drive to Anna’s, my stomach in a motherfucking knot. With a little more than thirty minutes to get to the hospital for morning rounds, I buzz Anna’s intercom. I wait a few moments and then call her. Her voice is so adorably sleepy when she says my name. “Liam?”
“Hey, I’m buzzing your door, can you let me in?”
“Yes, give me a sec.” Hoarse and groggy and incredibly sweet.
She buzzes me in next, and I take the steps up two at a time. Anna waits for me with her door open, and . . . kill me right now. Her cheeks are a little pink, she has a sleep mark on the left one, her hair is a mess, and . . . be still my fucking heart, she’s in the shortest shorts and one of those cropped sweatshirts that reveals more of her toned abs than covers it. If she were mine, I’d drop fucking everything to the floor, kick shut the door behind me and pin her to the closest wall. Deep inside I know that if I did that, she’d go along. I have no doubt. But then I’d just complicate this even more. The very last moments of Cheryl’s and my grand finale fight pops into my head and it’s enough to eradicate any taking-it-further-right-now thoughts.
“What are you smiling about?” She questions my prolonged, ridiculous, gaping, and the smile I must be wearing.
“Just wishing my eyes could take pictures.” I grin and add, “Morning.” Internally, I’m melting by her sweet and sexy appearance. I want to hug her tight just as equally as I want to take her to bed.
Anna assesses me skeptically. “Early morning,” she says half frowning, half sweet.
I nod, bringing forward the box I’m holding. “Breakfast.” I smile “For ruining dinner.” My eyes search hers. “A peace offering.”
Still frowning and sweet, she takes the box, flips the lid open, and checks the loot. A little smile eases into her lips.
“It’s from that bio-organic-whatever place you like. The lady said it’s one of your favorites, it has chia, flax, and whatnot.”
Her smile grows. I get one of the cups from the takeaway tray and hand it to Anna.
“Green Tea Chai Latte with turmeric.” Anna’s smile is radiant by this point.
“Hold up,” I raise a finger, indicating I’m not done. I take the small cup from the tray and slightly open the lid. I remove it completely and ask Anna to close her eyes. She closes them and I bring the small espresso cup near her nose. “Smell.”
She opens her eyes to mine and beams. Her features soften as she continues to hold my stare. She takes another deep breath; her voice is gentler when she asks, “Did I say or do anything to offend you last night?”
My stomach clenches because she sounds hurt, and it’s my doing. I drop my head and inhale. Glancing up at her, I slightly shake my head. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
We’re skirting around something we’re both fully aware of but don’t dare touch. Or maybe we’re not. Up until last night, I was sure that Anna is as into me as I am into her, but then my world shook a little when I found out she’s seeing someone, someone she meets for coffee, and who orders her food. A little earthquake that brought along bitter uncertainty. “Okay, I got to go.” I gesture at my scrubs. “Rounds begin at eight-thirty.”
“You came all the way here just to bring me breakfast?”
I nod. Holding my hand, she brings the espresso cup to her nose, and takes a deep lungful, closing her eyes with a gentle little smile. I gape at her, my heart pounding a little faster. Something is happening inside of me and it’s definitely not just lust. It’s so much greater than that. She opens her eyes and moves my hand that’s holding the little cup my way. “I got my hit; you can have it now.”
I take the offered drink and step forward. I wrap Anna in a one-arm embrace. Reflexively she leans into me and it feels fucking amazing. I drop my lips to her hair, breathe in, and press a kiss to her head. My lips still hover over her hair as I say, “Have a great day, Anna.”
At eight twenty-five, I pass by the nurses’ station, bid the ladies good morning, and get more than a few warm smiles in return. I drop my backpack in the locker room and reach for my phone to turn it to silent mode. There are two messages from Anna waiting for me. The first reads: All happiness depends on a leisurely breakfast.