Page 67 of Sunset Catchers

If ignorance was bliss, then lying to yourself was heaven. And I was nothing if not an angel, chilling on her cloud of delusion.

My body shivered all over from the drop in temperature as the evening settled in around us.

“You’re cold,” Levi states. It’s not a question. He does that a lot, knowing what I need without my having to tell him. We’ve become totally attuned to each other these past few weeks. Once you’re part of someone’s routine for a while, it’s easy to read them. At least, it is for him.

“Just a little. I hadn’t planned to stay out this long, so I didn’t bring a sweater.” My spine shudders again to prove my point. Relax body; we get it.

“Take mine,” he offers, thrusting his sweatshirt at me.

I don’t bother denying his offer. I am cold. Plus the thought of being engulfed in Levi’s dark blue sweatshirt is too good an opportunity to pass up.

“Thank you.”

I war with myself not to take a whiff of it.

Don’t do it, Winnie. Do not do it.

I lose the battle when reaching out to pull my long, curly hair free gives me the perfect cover to take an overly big inhale. I’m hit with a shot of dopamine that idles my senses. It smells exactly like him, but stronger. Citrusy and fresh and familiar. Like fresh-squeezed orange juice on a slow Sunday morning. It’s comforting.

I glanced over at Levi to make sure he didn’t catch me doing the deed, but his attention is fixed on the stretch of blue fabric covering my body, to where it falls to the top of my thighs. A muscle in his jaw flutters once.

When his eyes slowly make their way up to mine again, they shine a darker shade of blue. His gaze burns right through my layers of clothes to scorch my skin underneath.

“Are you warm enough?” he croaks out.

I leash my snort down.

Am I warm enough?

I’m asphalt on a summery, scorching day.

I’m an engine after a cross-country road trip.

I’m a hot-glue gun, plugged in and ready for a craft project.

“Sure,” I opt to say. He nods, satisfied that he has met my needs.

We look at each other for an overly long blink. This, too, seems to be a part of our routine now. Sloane, coming back to my side after stopping to talk with an old acquaintance, states that she needs to use the lady’s room. I snap my neck straight—those sneaky muscles, behaving like memory foam!

More than happy to take an out from whatever is happening between Levi and me, I follow her all the way to the public restroom, where we insert ourselves into the waiting line.

She fully turns to me, compelling my attention.

“So, you and my brother…”. I huffed out an awkward sound, then tucked a rogue strand of hair behind my ear, folding my arms on my stomach. My hair untucks itself from behind my ear. It is suddenly not so funny to be under Sloane’s unfiltered attention.

“There’s nothing going on. We did upgrade our status from coworkers to friends, but that’s it.”

“But he likes you a lot, though. I can tell.”

I shrug. “Meh. He barely tolerates me.”

My cloud of delusion grows into a comfortable, three-seater couch.

Of course I know Levi likes me. I’m willingly blind to the truth, not stupid. As I said—we’ve become this harmonized unit.

Boy likes girl.

Girl kind of likes boy too, but won’t admit it even if the victory of a televised quiz show depended on it.