Linger by Olivia Aycock

Author:Olivia Aycock
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Olivia Aycock

Tom

* * *

I’d thought a month without seeing Reina went by slowly, but this week had to be the longest week of recorded history.

I’d been slammed, dealing with midterms, so that just made the week even crappier.

Rush hour traffic had been, predictably, terrible. She lived up north, and as I idled on the freeway, trying to ignore my now-enormous carbon footprint, I wondered how much of her life was spent stuck in a car driving down to the university area. At least her job at the allergy clinic where she worked during the week was closer to her apartment.

I’d deliberately kept our texting to a minimum this week. She’d been pretty clear how full her days were, back before I’d ever thought about asking her out. Scratch that. I’d thought about asking her out from the first Sunday night I’d gone to the coffee shop by my house. But now I regretted not calling or texting more. Both when I first met her and now, over the past week.

I was like a madman, starved for her.

The tinny voice of the GPS gave me an alternate route, and I took it without even pausing to think. Even if it saved three minutes, it would be three minutes more to spend with her.

When I drove up to her apartment complex, I was happy to note it looked like a newer one. No garage parking, but it had good lighting. The alternate route had been a good choice, and I was right on time. I looked at her last text again to verify her address, and found her building without much problem.

The parking lot backed up to a greenbelt, and I wondered if she had a view of the sunrises over the pretty park land.

Maybe you’ll see for yourself sometime.

I had to remind himself that though we’d known each other for months, this was a first date. And though I was primed to grab her up the second I walked through her door, I’d give her the first move.

There was something in her smile that told me we needed to take it slow.

Sliding from the SUV was an exercise in torture, as usual; I was bone-tired from pushing it too hard at physical therapy this afternoon. But my steps felt light as I crossed the parking lot to building twenty-four. Somewhere in there, she was waiting for me, and my face felt like it would split wide open from smiling.

Until I realized her apartment—24J—was on the third floor.

No elevators.

Just a breezeway with those fucking insane open-concept risers that had once seemed as benign as toothpaste, but now struck a little fear in my heart.

I set my jaw and started in on the first flight. Taking it slow and steady, I counted the stairs as I went, trying to focus on breathing and not the dull thud of blood rushing to my knee.

By the sixteenth stair on the first flight, that dull thud turned into a jagged edge. And by the time I was halfway through the second flight, I was a shaky mess.

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