Secondhand Hearts by Yvonne Wilson

Author:Yvonne Wilson [Wilson, Yvonne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Secondhand Hearts
Published: 2016-02-02T00:00:00+00:00

Tavyn

After the whole pancake fiasco, my walk with Kessler had been really nice. We watched the sailboats float out in the bay at Rocky Point. Turns out, neither of us has ever been on a boat before even though we grew up with the water practically in our backyard. My parents are always going to some dinner party or summer sailing party but I never have gone with them. They always left me with the nanny or babysitter. Kess and I decided before the summer is over we’ll definitely have to rent one of the boats available for the day. During our walk there were many moments of silence. None of which were awkward. There’s something between the two of us that keeps us connected. I still can’t help but think how ridiculous I must seem and that if I were to ever mention this connection, that Mila or anyone I came across would want to have me committed. Honestly, I’ve never felt so comfortable with someone before. Every once in a while I’d smile and give him a nudge with my shoulder. He’d give me his version of a smile and nudge me back. Then we’d ask one another a random question that would fuel a light conversation and if waded into territory that became too personal we’d fall back into silence and look out at the water and the houses lining the shore’s edge on the other side of the bay.

At one point during our outing I had sidestepped a toddler out with his parents and had inadvertently grabbed Kessler’s hand to stop from tripping over my own feet. I of course went to pull my hand from his but he gripped a little tighter and wouldn’t let me go. We walked the rest of the way holding hands. My whole body warmed and tingled.

During one of our random conversations, Kess mentioned how his shoulders were tight with knots from constantly moving the weights and gym equipment around so I offered him a massage at the clinic. Secretly, I want to see him without his shirt on as much as possible but I told him with all the lifting and stuff he does at the gym, it would be good for him to take the stress out of his muscles with a deep tissue massage. He said he’d come in for a massage if I agree to have dinner with him. Kessler actually made a joke about my impeccable table manners and that dinner would be a chance to redeem myself. Funny guy.

Next week is his massage, but tonight’s dinner and I want to make a good impression. If I spit dinner at him tonight, there isn’t a monkey’s chance I’ll get to see him shirtless. The vision of Kessler with his shirt off on my massage table is unequivocally the most awesome daydream, distracting me from preparing for the evening. Smooth skin, toned muscles, broad shoulders. I could go on about his physical perfection but tonight’s dinner.

Shit, tonight’s dinner.

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