Page 58 of Under the Weatherman
“What? Why?”
“Such a nightmare for Chelsea. Her sense of humor is a bit darker. I’m positively giddy imagining her fending off terrible one-liners.” Her smile looked kind of demonic in the hazy glow of the dashboard lights. I knew I should be getting out of the car, but I couldn’t find a break in the conversation, or maybe I didn’t want to.
“You two seem to get a kick out of each other’s misery.” I thought back to this morning, when Chelsea had sprung that picnic on Elizabeth. “You sure you’re actually friends and not frenemies?”
Her grin grew bigger. “I can’t believe you know that word.”
“Why wouldn’t I?” I shrugged. “Is that English major territory?”
“Hardly.” She tilted her head, and a wisp of hair fell across her forehead. “So what about you and Bas, is that a bromance?”
“More like a buddy comedy.”
She shifted a little in her seat, but she didn’t have a witty retort for once. The sudden silence read as an invitation to tell her goodnight and eject myself from her car.
I said, “You’re so…” right as she said, “I really…”
And we both froze. I held my breath waiting for her to finish that sentence. She waved for me to continue, but me finishing my sentence hung on knowing whether she was about to say, “I really should be going,” or “I really want to kiss you.”
Because suddenly, all I could think of was how it would feel to kiss this woman without believing she was someone else, knowing exactly who she was. It was a terrible idea, a step onto a shaky ledge, so I inched out. “You’re so intriguing. I’m glad we did this.”
She nodded, “I really like talking to you.”
Not exactly an invitation for more, but less than a total rejection. I liked the compromise, like a door left ajar. “I should be going,” I said, laying a hand on the car door.
“Evan,” she said, and I paused. When I looked back at her, she shook her head. “Never mind.”
I leaning in closer, almost crossing the console. “What is it?”
Her eyes flitted back and forth between mine, and then she unbuckled her seatbelt, said, “Fuck it,” and lifted up, close enough to brush her lips against mine, but leaving a barrier for me to cross, giving me a barely there opening to say no.
A delicious thrill wound through my stomach as I fought the pressing desire to kiss her.
Her forehead touched mine, and I breathed her in. My hand went to the back of her neck without her explicit permission, and with the gentlest of tugs, she was there, her mouth against mine, and I remembered this. I knew how she would taste, how her lips would part when my tongue swept them. My fingers twisted in her hair, and I forgot to fear her.
Kissing her was like the gentle mist outside, so quiet, so undemanding, almost tentative, that I lost myself in the feeling of Elizabeth’s cheek against my palm, her fingers pressed to my collar bone, the sound of rain making a lazy staccato on the windshield, and all I could think was how cozy it all felt.
She broke free with a conspiratorial laugh. “Sorry.” Her eyes were so soft as she gazed at me. “Was that okay?”
Was she asking me to rate the kiss or absolve her for crossing a line we’d drawn earlier in the day when we’d called a truce?
“Yeah,” I said, answering both questions. I drew back to look at her anew. I had to readjust my worldview a little to include Elizabeth in a new category. I didn’t know what to call it, since she was the lone occupant, but she made me feel a kind of way, and I’d never experienced this combination of feelings before. I was going to need time to process. Still, there were complications I couldn’t overlook. The first of which… “But you should know, as nice as everything’s been today, I really don’t date coworkers, as a rule.”
“We’re barely coworkers.”
“It’s just...” I sighed and sat back on my side of the car. “I haven’t even done my first broadcast, and—”
“I understand,” she said, gripping the steering wheel, exactly like someone who didn’t understand. “It’s no big deal.”
I sagged, frustrated that we’d shared this connection, something so rare to me, and instead of fanning it into a flame, I had to douse it. “Look, we obviously get along well, and I’d like it if we could get to know each other better.” At the hope in her expression, I amended, “As friends.”
Her lips scrunched together, like the word tasted bitter, but finally a small smile curved her lips. “I suppose that’s a lot better than how we began the day.”
“Definitely.” Watching her gray cloud part and give way to that sunshine demeanor she so easily tapped, I was already regretting this decision. My body still thrummed with the charge from that short kiss, and I wished I could follow that bliss, ask her to take me back to her place—or to take me in her car. And it wasn’t just some vague misplaced lust, an animal need to rid my body of pent-up frustration. I wantedher. But I couldn’t have her. Not now.
“Maybe I’ll get fired, and then we can revisit this, huh?” she joked.
I laughed at how she even made that sound like something to aspire to. “I hope you won’t lose your job.”
