Page 76 of Heidi Lucy Loses Her Mind
“Hey.” She leans sideways after we’ve been sitting quietly for a few minutes, nudging me with her shoulder.
“Yeah?” I say, smiling over at her.
And I swear, she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life. Exactly like this—I wish I had a photographic memory, because I want to remember every tiny detail of this moment. Her hazel eyes, vulnerable but sparkling, her dusty lashes, her skin flushed pink; her bare shoulders, delicate and smooth, her graceful neck—so many places for my lips to land.
“I like it when you look at me like that,” she says, her soft voice barely audible over the sounds of the spring around us.
I swallow, pulling my eyes away from the intoxicating sight of her bare skin. My gaze meets hers once more. “Like what?” I say hoarsely.
“Like that.” She nods at me, her ponytail swinging. “Like you’re thinking about all the ways you want to kiss me.”
I lean over, and my lips brush her ear as I whisper one of the truest things I’ve said today: “I have a list of ways I want to kiss you, honey.”
She shivers, though I don’t know if it’s because of my words or the brush of my lips. “Oh,” she whispers, sounding surprised. She leans away and looks over at me, her eyes wide. “More goosebumps. That gavemegoosebumps.”
Good.
She stares at me for a second longer. When she opens her mouth and speaks, the words fall out as though she’s barely thinking about them.
“I think I like you,” she says.
My heart stutters, but I try to keep my face neutral. “Interesting. Tell me more.”
She rolls her eyes, nudging me with her elbow. Her cheeks are still pink, and it’s absurd how curious I am about whether that’s because of the sun or because she’s embarrassed. “There’s not a lot more to tell,” she says. “I just think I have feelings for you.”
Part of me wants to cheer; the other part of me is shuffling its feet nervously, second guessing every word.
“Heidi,” I say, my voice low. I look at her. I want to be gentle, but I also need to say this. “Please don’t tell me that if you’re not sure. Okay?” I look away again, letting my gaze rove aimlessly over the scenery around us—the springs, the trees, the dirt path. Then I swallow. “I—I want this. I want to be with you. It’s okay if you’re still unsure, but please don’t say something you might not mean—”
But I break off, abruptly, as her lips land in a light kiss against my cheek.
“I mean it,” she says while I try to process what’s happening. Her voice is calm, serious. “I like you.”
“I—you’re sure?” I say stupidly.
A little smile flits over her lips. “I’m pretty sure, yes. I feel things with you that I don’t feel with anyone else.” The smile fades slightly. “I’m not ready to jump into anything crazy or heavy yet. There’s some stuff I’m working through and some conversations we’ll need to have, but…”
And I swear I’m not even breathing right now. My mind, my body, this day, the world around us—they’re all suspended, frozen in place, waiting for her.
She takes a deep breath. “But I like you. And I think I’d like to explore that.”
“Explore,” I say immediately. My pulse is jumping out of my skin, my muscles twitching with the desire to move, but I hold myself still, an iron grip on my self-control. “Explore however you want. I’m here.” I swallow. “I’m yours.”
“Hey, Heidi!”
Heidi and I both turn around to look behind us at Eric, who’s now shirtless and wet but back by the car once more. He waves something in the air, and after a second of squinting I realize it’s Heidi’s phone.
“Your phone is ringing,” he calls to her.
“Answer it,” she says. She shifts where she’s seated, easing herself up and then standing. “I’m coming.”
“Hello?” It’s a crisp, professional voice Eric answers with. “Yes, she is. Hang on a moment.”
Heidi grabs her folded towel from where it’s been sitting by us on the ground, and then she hurries over to him, her feet only halfway into her sandals. She takes the phone as he holds it out to her.
“Hello,” she says, slightly out of breath. “This is Heidi Lucy.”
I let my hands skim over the top of the water like I used to do in the swimming pool as a child—like Istilldo as a full-grown adult in the bathtub—as I watch the ripples and the way the sun glints off the surface. Heidi’s voice on the phone in the background is a soothing presence, perfect amid the sounds of chirping birds and cheerfully bubbling water.
