Justin,” the hottie says. His eyes dance with amusement. “And you are…”
“Olivia. But most people call me Livi.” I feel my cheeks heat up from more than the SoCal air. “I’m from Pennsylvania. I’m new here.”
“Pennsylvania,” Justin repeats. “That’s pretty far away. Do you know anyone here?”
Normally, I don’t talk much to strangers, especially ones who are super-humanly gorgeous, but something about Justin puts me at ease. “No. Just my dad and my ridiculous step-mom. And now you.”
“A ridiculous step-mom. Ouch.” Justin winces. “I have a step-mom, too. Non-ridiculous. I’m sure you’ve got a lot of heavy stuff going on right now, but I’ve been there. It sucks at first, but I can tell you it’ll get better.”
Doubtful. But I have to admire his compassion. He’s focused on my face and seems genuinely interested in me, but I can’t tell whether he likes me or just feels sorry for me because of my “heavy stuff.” I nearly trip over a crack in the sidewalk because I’m so mesmerized by his eyes. Their color is cool like water, but their spark of kindness is warm as sunshine.
We jog along in companionable silence, and I realize we’ve almost looped the entire neighborhood. As we round a corner, the garish green of Essie’s dream house assaults my eyeballs. OMG. I do not want Justin knowing I live there.
“So that’s your house, right?” Justin points, unfortunately, to the correct one. “I saw you heading out when you first started jogging.” He raises an eyebrow. “Pretty bright.”
I shrug. There’s no escape. “Too bright.”
Don’t judge me, I add mentally.
“Well, I live in the much less interesting one four doors down.” Justin points to a sprawling white ranch. Plain white and normal looking; his family would probably get along with my dad--or they would have, pre-Essie. “So we’re neighbors. We should jog again sometime. You’re a great runner.”
“Thanks.” I feel my heart racing faster than our feet hit the pavement. Maybe he does like me; he noticed me before I noticed him, and now he’s complimenting me. “I’d love to do this again. I jog almost every day anyway.”
I slow my pace a bit as we reach the end of his driveway. I expect him to jog up the driveway, but he keeps running straight.
“You’re not winded yet?” I ask, impressed. We’ve already run at least three miles, and I’m ready for a break.
Justin grins. “Yeah, I kind of am. But I figured I’d ‘walk’ you home. If that’s cool with you, of course.” His voice cracks at the end of his sentence, and he covers it up with a hasty throat clearing.
Okay, he definitely likes me. A guy’s voice doesn’t crack at embarrassing times unless he likes a girl. It’s almost refreshing that he’s not completely perfect.
“Sure,” I say. My cushiony New Balances feel even more airy than usual as I practically float down the sidewalk next to Justin.
And when we reach my front door, Justin says, “See you soon, neighbor,” with a little wink.
See you soon. That has to be a good thing. If he’d said something vague and generic like, “It was nice meeting you,” I’d be worried. But, “See you soon,” has to mean he’s into me, right?
I realize that Justin is watching me, probably awaiting my response, so I quickly say, “Definitely.”
My stomach churns, swirling with crush-nerves, as I wave goodbye to Justin. I push open the heavy wooden double doors, and Essie immediately ambushes me, telling me it’s dinnertime.
“Be down soon, I’m going to shower,” I call behind me as I charge upstairs. My head is screaming, “Justin likes me!”
Well okay, Justin might like me. Or he could just think I’m a good runner. We’ll see. But regardless, I find myself humming, something I haven’t done in years. Right now, even Essie can’t ruin my mood.
***
Two days later, after we’re all unpacked and organized, my dad announces we’re going on
“Olivia. But most people call me Livi.” I feel my cheeks heat up from more than the SoCal air. “I’m from Pennsylvania. I’m new here.”
“Pennsylvania,” Justin repeats. “That’s pretty far away. Do you know anyone here?”
Normally, I don’t talk much to strangers, especially ones who are super-humanly gorgeous, but something about Justin puts me at ease. “No. Just my dad and my ridiculous step-mom. And now you.”
“A ridiculous step-mom. Ouch.” Justin winces. “I have a step-mom, too. Non-ridiculous. I’m sure you’ve got a lot of heavy stuff going on right now, but I’ve been there. It sucks at first, but I can tell you it’ll get better.”
Doubtful. But I have to admire his compassion. He’s focused on my face and seems genuinely interested in me, but I can’t tell whether he likes me or just feels sorry for me because of my “heavy stuff.” I nearly trip over a crack in the sidewalk because I’m so mesmerized by his eyes. Their color is cool like water, but their spark of kindness is warm as sunshine.
We jog along in companionable silence, and I realize we’ve almost looped the entire neighborhood. As we round a corner, the garish green of Essie’s dream house assaults my eyeballs. OMG. I do not want Justin knowing I live there.
“So that’s your house, right?” Justin points, unfortunately, to the correct one. “I saw you heading out when you first started jogging.” He raises an eyebrow. “Pretty bright.”
I shrug. There’s no escape. “Too bright.”
Don’t judge me, I add mentally.
“Well, I live in the much less interesting one four doors down.” Justin points to a sprawling white ranch. Plain white and normal looking; his family would probably get along with my dad--or they would have, pre-Essie. “So we’re neighbors. We should jog again sometime. You’re a great runner.”
“Thanks.” I feel my heart racing faster than our feet hit the pavement. Maybe he does like me; he noticed me before I noticed him, and now he’s complimenting me. “I’d love to do this again. I jog almost every day anyway.”
I slow my pace a bit as we reach the end of his driveway. I expect him to jog up the driveway, but he keeps running straight.
“You’re not winded yet?” I ask, impressed. We’ve already run at least three miles, and I’m ready for a break.
Justin grins. “Yeah, I kind of am. But I figured I’d ‘walk’ you home. If that’s cool with you, of course.” His voice cracks at the end of his sentence, and he covers it up with a hasty throat clearing.
Okay, he definitely likes me. A guy’s voice doesn’t crack at embarrassing times unless he likes a girl. It’s almost refreshing that he’s not completely perfect.
“Sure,” I say. My cushiony New Balances feel even more airy than usual as I practically float down the sidewalk next to Justin.
And when we reach my front door, Justin says, “See you soon, neighbor,” with a little wink.
See you soon. That has to be a good thing. If he’d said something vague and generic like, “It was nice meeting you,” I’d be worried. But, “See you soon,” has to mean he’s into me, right?
I realize that Justin is watching me, probably awaiting my response, so I quickly say, “Definitely.”
My stomach churns, swirling with crush-nerves, as I wave goodbye to Justin. I push open the heavy wooden double doors, and Essie immediately ambushes me, telling me it’s dinnertime.
“Be down soon, I’m going to shower,” I call behind me as I charge upstairs. My head is screaming, “Justin likes me!”
Well okay, Justin might like me. Or he could just think I’m a good runner. We’ll see. But regardless, I find myself humming, something I haven’t done in years. Right now, even Essie can’t ruin my mood.
***
Two days later, after we’re all unpacked and organized, my dad announces we’re going on
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