I know I shouldn’t, but I want to see him, so before I can think about it twice, I move to my bedroom window, pull the curtain back, and wait.
And wait.
And wait.
And . . . nothing.
Well, that was anticlimactic and disappointing.
I let out a long sigh and go do my nighttime skin routine, layering all my serums and lotions. Once all that is done, I slip into my comfy satin pajamas and head downstairs to grab my book and make sure everything is ready for the night.
I clean up the kitchen and am shutting the lights off when there’s a knock.
Oh God.
He came.
My stomach drops and my nerves are scattered.
I’m happy about this. Right? I should be. I mean, I stood at the window, and he said he would come over if I did.
I rush to the door and open it.
“Violet.”
Everett.
My heart immediately starts to race with excitement, but the look in his eyes has me instantly concerned. Everett runs his hands through his dark-brown hair and sighs. “Hey, look, I hate to ask you for a favor.”
“What is it?” I ask quickly.
“I have an emergency at the clinic and I really need to go, but my mother isn’t ... well, I need someone to sit with her.”
That’s not a favor I would ever say no to. “Of course, let me get changed real quick and grab my coat.”
I step back inside, run up the stairs, change back into my leggings and sweatshirt, grab the jacket sitting on the edge of the couch, and return to him.
He sighs heavily and then he looks at me. “Are you sure?”
“Everett, I don’t mind at all.”
Relief washes over him. “Thank you. This only happens once in a blue moon, and today nothing is going right.”
I reach my hand out, resting it on his arm. “Hey, that’s what friends are for.” Although I’m kidding myself thinking we’re only friends. He’s more. So much more.
He looks down at where I’m touching him, and then our eyes meet. “Right.”
The flutter in my stomach has nothing to do with the warmth in his eyes. Nope. It must be the baby or something I ate.
I’m such a liar.
I quickly remove my hand and say, “Okay, so you need me to just sit with her?”
He gives me a tight-lipped smile. “Yes, usually one of her friends comes over and knits or something, but she’s not feeling well.”
“Oh no, okay. I mean, I don’t know how to knit, but I’ll hang out with her. I’m sure we can find something.”
“Thanks, Vi.”
