Carolina Days: Yesterday's Half Truths Part 18

When my eyes reach his, I'm stunned by how they've darkened.

"I'd ask if you were going somewhere, but that would sound crazy, right?" His eyes drop down to my feet and travel slowly up my body.

"I wrote about pairing dramatic colors with monochromatic looks for a pop of color."

"I like the red." Luke references my top.

"I had blue tights and a black blouse on before this," I babble.

Even thousands of miles away, his smile lights up a room.

"I still like the red," he repeats.

Note to self, Luke likes red.

We both stand, staring at each other until there's a knock at Luke's door.

"Hang on a sec," he says before moving to open it.

From the angle of his tablet, I can't see who it is, but I can hear a feminine voice inviting him to breakfast. My stomach rolls and I wonder if that's what turbulence feels like.

After a moment, Luke comes back onto the screen. "They're calling us down so I have to go."

"Okay." I nod, wis.h.i.+ng it were a man who came to get him and not a woman.

"I'll text you once I know my schedule."

I nod again and start to walk toward the tablet.

"Lindsay."

I pause at my name on his lips.

"You look...." He stops; his eyes still on mine.

"What?" I breathe.

There's noise off to the side of his room, he looks away toward the source before looking back at me. "I should go," he hesitates. "Bye," he says and then he's gone.

What was he going to say?

I'd gasp but I'd have to breathe to do that, and right now, all air seems to be frozen. After a moment of willing myself to inhale, I move again and disconnect my tablet from the cord hooking it to my TV.

First, he said I look different, and considering he has only seen me in workout clothes, that isn't a shock. Was he going to say different again, or something else?

Who was the woman who came to his door? Was there a chance he was going to say I looked nice? I hurry back into my room and look at myself in my full-length mirror. My hair and makeup are on the incredible side. I curled my hair this morning and have big barrel rolls of curls hanging down. I can contour like a pro so my cheekbones look more defined than they are in real life.

I went basic with my eye makeup since the focus of the pics should be the color pop from my outfit and not my eyes. Why didn't he finish what he was going to say? Now I'm going to be agonizing over all of the different possibilities.

No.

I have things to do. I'm not going to waste my time worrying over unsaid words. Well, I'm going to try not to, at least. I finish taking the pics for my blog post and slip off my boots. Everything else I'm wearing is comfy enough to leave on. Besides, the way Luke looked at me made me feel s.e.xy, and I haven't felt that way in a long time.

That's what I'm going to focus on, how I feel.

I have a crush, potentially more than a crush, on a guy who is out of my league. There's a time and a place for daydreaming about Luke; now is not it. I crank some music and get to work. I love my job and my blog. I take pride in all of my hard work.

The project that I'm working on right now for my day job is a rebranding of a Fortune 500 company. There's no guarantee my employer will be selected; we're still trying to earn their business. Being a part of the design team on this is a big deal.

I'm not the only designer working on this. The project manager gets all of our ideas, and then as a team, we review them and decide which design to focus on. If my design is picked, I'll be listed not only as a member of the design team, but also as the lead designer. It would be huge honor.

I change into some workout clothes and hit my treadmill. Excitement from my design is giving me a natural high and energy I can burn off. I didn't always celebrate like this. Before Luke, I probably would have celebrated with a bowl of ice cream. I might still do that; but thanks to Luke, it will be a bowl of orange sherbet with little dark chocolate chips.

After my run, I take a long, hot bath. The hot water soothes my tired muscles and relaxes me. Baths are becoming a more frequent enjoyment for me. As much as I love clothes, accessories, and makeup, these days, I'm becoming more and more comfortable in my own skin.

That doesn't mean I love clothes any less, just that I'm finally beginning to love myself as well.

After my bath, I wrap myself into a fluffy cotton robe and make myself a treat. After I change for bed, Coco curls next to me while I read. Although my eyes feel heavy, I want to finish the chapter I'm on. Suddenly, my phone starts buzzing. Stretching out for it, I'm instantly awake when I see it's Luke calling.

"Hi."

"I wasn't sure if you'd still be up."

My eyes flick to my alarm clock. He's right; it's late. "I'm in bed."

He gulps. "Did I wake you?"

"I wasn't asleep. I was reading."

"Anything good?"

My cheeks redden; the book I'm reading is somewhat naughty. "I like it."

"What's it about?"

My mouth dropped. "Is that why you called?"

"I wanted to hear your voice."

My heart races. "My voice?"

"I've been thinking about you all day."

I sit up, accidently knocking Coco off the bed. "You have? But why?"

"I think about you all the time."

"Because you're my trainer?"

"No," he says, quietly.

"But, I don't understand."

"I like you, Lindsay."

"As a friend," I finish for him.

"Yes," he replies and my heart falls. "But, more than that, too."

What?

Did he...?

More than a friend?

"You like me as more than a friend?"

"I do."

Throwing my feet over the side of the bed, I pace, clutching my phone to my ear. "What does that even mean?"

"Lindsay," he groans, "what do you think it means?"

"Are, are you playing a trick on me?"

"Why would you say that?"

"Is there someone else on the line? Are you recording this?"

"What?" he snaps.

"I have to go. I have to go." I end the call and toss my phone onto my bed as if it bit me.

It buzzes behind me as I stumble into my living room. Why would he say that? I thought he was my friend. Sure, I have a crush on him, but never in a million years would I think he'd play this kind of joke on me. Shaking I go straight to my fridge. I need something that will make me feel better.

A cookie, a cupcake, some chocolate, something.

The interior light from the fridge illuminates only a small portion of the kitchen. I fall back into darkness when I slam the door shut. I have nothing to eat, nothing. I storm back into my room and groan when I hear my phone buzz again.

Guys like Luke don't like girls like me.

Growling, I slam my phone down onto my bed. What the h.e.l.l just happened? After seeing Lindsay this morning looking so incredibly beautiful, I finally decide to man up and tell her I like her. Her reaction was not what I was hoping for. After all this time, she thought I was tricking her.

Lifting my hands to my face, I rub my eyes before shoving my fingers into my hair and pulling. She hung up on me and I'm too far away to go bang on her door until she talks to me again. I shouldn't have told her. I rushed her and part of me knew this would freak her out.

I'm such an idiot. Why did I say anything at all? Because you like her, I answer myself, more than any girl you've been interested in before. When Gigi came to my door this morning, I could read her game a mile away. The way the TV was angled, I know she caught a glimpse of Lindsay.

On our way down to breakfast, she asked if Lindsay was my girlfriend. I wanted to say yes. Saying no sucked more than I thought it would. Seeing the gleam in her eyes when she knew I was technically available blew. I'm not available. There's only one woman I want and somehow I need to convince her she can trust me.

All day long, I've thought about Lindsay. I can't get her face out of my head. Calling her was a stupid idea though. I should have waited until I was home to talk to her. I had hoped she'd be happy; nope, she didn't believe me. I s.n.a.t.c.h my phone back up off my bed and try to call her again. After four rings, I know it will go to voicemail again, so I hang up. Desperate, I text her.

Please, call me back.

I should have left it at that but I didn't.

Why would you think I'm tricking you?

Don't you know me at all?

I hold my phone long enough for me to give up on her replying anytime soon. Falling backward onto my pillow, I groan. What was I thinking? Hmm, maybe that a girl I liked would be happy to hear it. Was that too much to ask?

I pop up when my phone rings; it's her.

"Lindsay-"

"Stop," she cuts me off. "Please stop calling and texting me."

"No."

"What do you mean no?" she snaps.

"Is it that awful that I like you?"

"I'm not talking about this."

"Why, is there something wrong with me?"

"No."

"Then why did you freak out when I told you?"

"I didn't freak out."

I can't help but laugh even though I'm sure the timing isn't right. "You absolutely freaked out."

"Fine."

"Why?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Do you like me?"

"You're not listening to me."

I stand and move over to the window, pulling the shade to fill my room with light. "You're not answering my question."

"This whole thing makes me uncomfortable."