Breathe
Page 14
But I was done. Chace had called my charms “limited” and my kiss “bullshit fumbling” so I wasn’t actually done. I was done. I didn’t want any reminders of him. Luckily, I worked in the library, a building, to my knowledge, he’d never stepped foot inside of in thirteen years. And since I was the only paid employee at the library, I figured it was safe to say he never had and therefore never would. And I wasn’t going back to the diner. I was also giving up La-La Land coffee. This stunk. Shambles and Sunny’s coffee was awesome and Shambles’s baked goods were to die for.
But these were the only times my path could cross with any regularity with Chace Keaton’s so until the burn of his words faded away, I was avoiding them.
Benji and Serenity, I couldn’t control. They were adults (I hoped) and they were far from stupid. Maybe less involved in the real word even than I was but not stupid.
And for my part, I’d just keep warning them.
Benji, we weren’t, I typed. And I’m not comfortable with what we’re uncovering and you shouldn’t be comfortable with it either. It’s really none of our business. Things are good in Carnal again. I have a strong feeling, a very strong one, we should let this sleeping dog lie.
But what about Chace? Benji typed back and I closed my eyes.
Then I opened them in order to lie again.
He has a girlfriend.
What!?!?!?!
I pulled in a breath and kept lying.
Yeah. I saw him with her the other day. They look really close. She’s super pretty.
OMG! Why didn’t you say anything?!?!?
I just needed some time to give up a dream.
Oh Inara (this, by the way, was my screen name because Nathan Fillion’s character was in love with Inara’s character on Firefly – actually my full screen name was Inara000 since there were a gazillion Inaras out there) don’t say that. Is this thing new with him? Maybe it won’t work out.
That isn’t part of caring about someone, Benji, even if you care about them from afar, hoping they won’t be happy. He wasn’t happy with Misty. Now he looks happy with this new lady. He’s moving on. I should too.
Don’t give up hope. You never know, Benji replied.
No, what I know is, I’ve been home from college for seven years and he hasn’t noticed me. He’s been a widower for seven months and he hasn’t noticed me. This means he’s probably never going to notice me. I have a life to live to, Ben. And I should probably start living it.
My eyes remained on the screen as nothing came back from Benji for a while then it did.
I’m sorry, Faye. But you’re probably right. Still, I hope you find someone spectacular because you deserve that and when Chace Keaton finally gets his head straight and notices you, then he can feel a little of what you’re feeling now, knowing you’re happy and that happy isn’t ever going to be with him.
I wouldn’t hold my breath for that to happen.
This I did not share with Benji.
A Benji that, reading his words, I was reminded of all the reasons why, even though I’d never met him and probably never would, I loved him.
Instead, I typed, It’s getting late here, Ben. I need to go to bed.
Right, he returned, I’ll let you go. Back tomorrow?
Probably, I answered and I probably would be back tomorrow. Sitting in my apartment at my computer talking to people I knew well but had never met. Nor would I probably ever meet seeing as they were social misfits.
Like me.
Twenty-nine and never been laid. I’d hardly ever been kissed and I was pining for a man I’d never have who was real and another one who was a fictional character on a long-since cancelled television show.
“Yep,” I whispered as I typed, Later, Ben. “I need to get a life.”
I read his farewell then shut down my computer.
Then I wandered to my couch.
There was one thing in my life that could be considered kickass. This was my apartment.
It was the space over Holly’s Flower Shop on Main Street. This meant, on frequent occasions, it smelled like flowers. It also meant I could walk to work. Considering my car was a dark green junker Jeep Cherokee my Dad handed down to me seven years ago upon my graduation from college, being able to walk to work and anywhere else I needed to go in my narrow life was a good thing.
My apartment was all one room, mostly. Four, thin but tall arched windows in the front facing Main Street. All the walls were exposed red brick. The floors were beaten up wood planks that, before she rented it to me, Holly had refinished so, although they were distressed, they were also gleaming and gorgeous. I’d thrown a bunch of mismatched, multi-colored, multi-shaped but pretty and bright rugs here and there to warm up the room
There was a kitchen at the back delineated from the room by a high counter with stools in front of it. It was big because the space was big. It had lots of ivory painted cabinets with nicks and scratches in that looked cool rather than beaten up and some of the cabinets were glass fronted so you could see my vivid collection of stoneware displayed. It also had a huge island in the middle and lots of counter space. The kitchen was awesome.
Next to the kitchen was a small utility room. It was tucked in the nook created by the wood paneled room that bit into the space that was a big bathroom.
The bathroom had a pedestal sink and a deep, fabulous claw footed tub that was the dreamland of tubs for people (like me) who liked to take baths.
By the windows at the front was my bright pink, slouchy, pillow backed couch and three comfy armchairs (one royal blue, one aubergine and one bright teal), all with ottomans surrounding a variety of pretty but random mismatching tables. I read a lot so I needed a lot of different choices of where to read. With my seating area, I had it.
In the middle of the space sitting on a large, thick area rug in a rich forest green was my queen-size bed. It had scrolled, ivory painted iron head and foot stands and wide but not deep, ivory painted but distressed nightstands on each side. One nightstand had a big lamp with a fluted glass base. The other had a lamp on it that was round, matte pink ceramic that looked like punched out eyelet, the bulb inside it so the lamp threw pretty patterns on the wall when lit (like now). The bed had bunches of pillows of all shapes and sizes, soft sheets I indulged in because they cost a fortune but felt great and a down comforter covered in a mint green cover with purple, pink and blue flowers on it.
The wall to the side of the bed close to the seating area was filled with shelves that had my extensive collection of books, my stereo, CDs, DVDs, some framed photos and geek items like a small-scale model of the Serenity ship from Firefly and a frame with a mounted chakram, Xena, Warrior Princess’s awesome weapon.
But these were the only times my path could cross with any regularity with Chace Keaton’s so until the burn of his words faded away, I was avoiding them.
Benji and Serenity, I couldn’t control. They were adults (I hoped) and they were far from stupid. Maybe less involved in the real word even than I was but not stupid.
And for my part, I’d just keep warning them.
Benji, we weren’t, I typed. And I’m not comfortable with what we’re uncovering and you shouldn’t be comfortable with it either. It’s really none of our business. Things are good in Carnal again. I have a strong feeling, a very strong one, we should let this sleeping dog lie.
But what about Chace? Benji typed back and I closed my eyes.
Then I opened them in order to lie again.
He has a girlfriend.
What!?!?!?!
I pulled in a breath and kept lying.
Yeah. I saw him with her the other day. They look really close. She’s super pretty.
OMG! Why didn’t you say anything?!?!?
I just needed some time to give up a dream.
Oh Inara (this, by the way, was my screen name because Nathan Fillion’s character was in love with Inara’s character on Firefly – actually my full screen name was Inara000 since there were a gazillion Inaras out there) don’t say that. Is this thing new with him? Maybe it won’t work out.
That isn’t part of caring about someone, Benji, even if you care about them from afar, hoping they won’t be happy. He wasn’t happy with Misty. Now he looks happy with this new lady. He’s moving on. I should too.
Don’t give up hope. You never know, Benji replied.
No, what I know is, I’ve been home from college for seven years and he hasn’t noticed me. He’s been a widower for seven months and he hasn’t noticed me. This means he’s probably never going to notice me. I have a life to live to, Ben. And I should probably start living it.
My eyes remained on the screen as nothing came back from Benji for a while then it did.
I’m sorry, Faye. But you’re probably right. Still, I hope you find someone spectacular because you deserve that and when Chace Keaton finally gets his head straight and notices you, then he can feel a little of what you’re feeling now, knowing you’re happy and that happy isn’t ever going to be with him.
I wouldn’t hold my breath for that to happen.
This I did not share with Benji.
A Benji that, reading his words, I was reminded of all the reasons why, even though I’d never met him and probably never would, I loved him.
Instead, I typed, It’s getting late here, Ben. I need to go to bed.
Right, he returned, I’ll let you go. Back tomorrow?
Probably, I answered and I probably would be back tomorrow. Sitting in my apartment at my computer talking to people I knew well but had never met. Nor would I probably ever meet seeing as they were social misfits.
Like me.
Twenty-nine and never been laid. I’d hardly ever been kissed and I was pining for a man I’d never have who was real and another one who was a fictional character on a long-since cancelled television show.
“Yep,” I whispered as I typed, Later, Ben. “I need to get a life.”
I read his farewell then shut down my computer.
Then I wandered to my couch.
There was one thing in my life that could be considered kickass. This was my apartment.
It was the space over Holly’s Flower Shop on Main Street. This meant, on frequent occasions, it smelled like flowers. It also meant I could walk to work. Considering my car was a dark green junker Jeep Cherokee my Dad handed down to me seven years ago upon my graduation from college, being able to walk to work and anywhere else I needed to go in my narrow life was a good thing.
My apartment was all one room, mostly. Four, thin but tall arched windows in the front facing Main Street. All the walls were exposed red brick. The floors were beaten up wood planks that, before she rented it to me, Holly had refinished so, although they were distressed, they were also gleaming and gorgeous. I’d thrown a bunch of mismatched, multi-colored, multi-shaped but pretty and bright rugs here and there to warm up the room
There was a kitchen at the back delineated from the room by a high counter with stools in front of it. It was big because the space was big. It had lots of ivory painted cabinets with nicks and scratches in that looked cool rather than beaten up and some of the cabinets were glass fronted so you could see my vivid collection of stoneware displayed. It also had a huge island in the middle and lots of counter space. The kitchen was awesome.
Next to the kitchen was a small utility room. It was tucked in the nook created by the wood paneled room that bit into the space that was a big bathroom.
The bathroom had a pedestal sink and a deep, fabulous claw footed tub that was the dreamland of tubs for people (like me) who liked to take baths.
By the windows at the front was my bright pink, slouchy, pillow backed couch and three comfy armchairs (one royal blue, one aubergine and one bright teal), all with ottomans surrounding a variety of pretty but random mismatching tables. I read a lot so I needed a lot of different choices of where to read. With my seating area, I had it.
In the middle of the space sitting on a large, thick area rug in a rich forest green was my queen-size bed. It had scrolled, ivory painted iron head and foot stands and wide but not deep, ivory painted but distressed nightstands on each side. One nightstand had a big lamp with a fluted glass base. The other had a lamp on it that was round, matte pink ceramic that looked like punched out eyelet, the bulb inside it so the lamp threw pretty patterns on the wall when lit (like now). The bed had bunches of pillows of all shapes and sizes, soft sheets I indulged in because they cost a fortune but felt great and a down comforter covered in a mint green cover with purple, pink and blue flowers on it.
The wall to the side of the bed close to the seating area was filled with shelves that had my extensive collection of books, my stereo, CDs, DVDs, some framed photos and geek items like a small-scale model of the Serenity ship from Firefly and a frame with a mounted chakram, Xena, Warrior Princess’s awesome weapon.
