Flicker Page 8

  We reached the pizza shop and ordered our slices then sat at the only table there. I slipped my coat off and hung it on the back of my chair. Telor tilted his chair backward and balanced on just the back two legs, crossing his arms over his chest. Every time the chair wobbled, I had to fight my body’s urge to lunge for him. It was a small miracle that he didn’t bust his head open.

  “So, Catalina, tell me about yourself,” he said, smiling. Bang-bang, that wall was going to shatter into a million little pieces soon.

  “I’m pretty boring.” As I said it, I realized how true it was. I didn’t have any hobbies; I wasn’t particularly good at anything except work, which, by the way, was what I did most of the time.

  “I sincerely doubt that.” Telor plopped his chair back on the ground as our slices were delivered to the table. “They’re huge,” he commented, moving his gaze between the pizza and me.

  “How have you never eaten here before?” Goodfella’s was a pretty big staple of living and working downtown. As I watched him pick at his food cautiously, an idea formed in my head. “I’ll tell you what: for every question you answer, I’ll answer one, too.”

  He didn’t seem to be paying much attention to me at the moment; he picked a sundried tomato off his pizza and nibbled it cautiously.

  “It won’t bite, ya know,” I teased, attempting to hide my smirk behind my own slice.

  “I know.” He finally ate it and proceeded to pick more toppings off and eat those first.

  “So, how ‘bout it?” I prompted, biting my bottom lip, wondering if this was really a good idea. There was really nothing I wouldn’t mind telling him. And I was dying to know more about him. It wasn’t curiosity, but something deeper. Like my very soul wanted to devour every bit of information he was willing to feed it.

  “Sure,” he said.

  “You start,” I offered, trying to keep the giddiness from my voice.

  “Favorite color?” he asked.

  “Orange,” I said, it always reminded me of fall and bonfires. I thought of his eyes, and the way they faded into various shades, wishing I could put a color on them. That would be my favorite color. “You?”

  “It used to be yellow, now it’s blue,” he said.

  “Why did it change?”

  “Is that your next question?” he asked. His smile was so broad it was almost too beautiful to look at. I shook my head. “Hobbies?”

  “Does working count?” I asked hesitantly. “I do it at home and on weekends, also.”

  “Working doesn’t count. What do you do for fun?”

  “Is that your next question?”

  “Yes.” He had finally finished all of his toppings and moved on to the cheese.

  “Um, I like to draw,” I said. “I’m God-awful at it, but I like it.”

  “I doubt you’re God-awful at anything,” he said. “Your turn.”

  “Hobbies?” I was apparently the master at asking questions.

  “I used to be in a band,” he said wistfully.

  “Used to?”

  “Our lead singer died,” he said, and a light bulb flickered in my mind, a beam leading me toward the answers of unasked questions.

  Rather than say something, I just stared at him. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. It was like when you were thinking of a word but couldn’t remember what it was, even though it was on the tip of your tongue. He cleared his throat, and it took me a moment to remember he was waiting for me to talk.

  “Sorry,” I said, shifting in my seat under the weight of his gaze. I felt like he was looking right through me. “I can’t get over this feeling of déjà vu. You just seem so familiar.”

  “I guess I just have one of those faces,” he said, smiling, looking slightly uncomfortable.

  We were done with our pizza, and the cashier had dropped our checks off. I reached out to take mine, but he had already picked it up.

  “Hey, I can get it. Consider it a welcome present.” I reached out to take it from his hands. He moved, but not before my skin grazed his.

  A whole side of the wall came toppling over, and I had a vision, a memory. Though I didn't remember exactly when it was, I knew it was mine.

  I was cold and numb, I could barely see. I felt like I was under dirty water trying

  to look up at the world. The only thing I could make out were eyes staring down at me. They calmed me, even though they portrayed a deep worry. I felt…safe.

  As quickly as the memory had appeared, it was gone, yet the feeling it elicited stuck.

  Telor looked how I felt—stunned and confused. I took a deep shaky breath and pulled my hand back. Instinctively, I reached for the ring, only to remember it was gone. I shoved my hands in my lap to keep him from seeing them tremble. Telor recovered before I did, flashing me an easy smile.

  “Don’t sweat it. I’m nothing if not a gentleman. Consider it an early birthday present. Or late. Whichever,” he said, his smile widening.

  “My birthday is in June, so it’s early,” I said, and his smile fell, just a little.

  “June what?” he asked, his attention half on me and half somewhere else at the same time.

  “Twentieth, why?” I asked, confused. His mood was going downhill quickly.

  “No reason.” He stood and handed me my coat, his face no longer wearing anything remotely close to a smile. No, it was the exact opposite. I wanted to reach over and smooth those worry lines right off his face. I refrained, though it pained me almost physically. I let him lead me outside, his shoulders tensed and ready to snap.

  “What’s wrong?”

  His long strides left me several paces behind him.

  He paused for a second, allowing me to catch up to him before continuing with slower, measured steps.

  “Is everything okay?” I asked, even though he’d ignored my first question.

  He kept pace beside me, but other than a sidelong glance, he gave no indication that he’d even heard me.

  “Well then, good talk,” I sighed as I walked through the back door of the museum that he held open for me.

  Ever the gentleman, indeed.

  Lina 12

  Telor remained in a weird mood for the rest of the day. Even while we worked in the general vicinity of each other, no more words were spoken between us. Did he have something against Geminis? I wasn’t sure, but his mood went from sixty to zero in about ten seconds.

  Seline was serious about the work hours. At five o’clock on the dot, she basically threw me out. I tried to catch Telor as we left, but he hightailed it through the door as quickly as he could. I sulked on my way home, wondering if he would be more talkative tomorrow.

  There was something about him that I couldn’t shake. I wanted to be near him all the time, and there was a familiarity that I couldn’t place. I racked my brain, only to come up dizzy and a little nauseated. What was I missing?

  I tossed my purse against the hall table and kicked my shoes off, banging against the deacon’s bench by the door. Walking toward the stairs, I stripped my shirt off and tossed it at the laundry room door. I’d move it later. I unbuttoned my pants, when a whistle came from the kitchen.

  I practically jumped out of my skin, scrambling to cover myself, but releasing my now-undone pants. Then I was standing there like an idiot, in my bra with my pants halfway down my legs, searching the kitchen. The culprit was easily visible—Gavin. He was leaning against the island with his arms crossed over his chest.

  “Hello to you, too,” he said. He had that smile that undid women in seconds flat, the one that made even the most self-respecting woman a drooling dumbass.

  “Gavin!” I panted, willing my breathing to return to normal. “What are you doing home?” He tossed my shirt back to me, sensing my unease, and I slipped it back over my head.

  “I wanted to be here to hear all about your first day back,” he said. A month ago, I wouldn’t have even bothered to put my shirt back on. There was seriously something wrong with me.

  For the first time
since I walked in, I noticed something delicious was cooking in the kitchen. Gavin must have been home for a while. He left work early to come home and make me dinner? He really was amazing. I was the one who was off here. I arranged my face into what I hoped was an acceptable happy face and turned back to him.

  “What are you making?” I asked, trying to sound happy and excited, though even I could tell I’d overplayed it.

  “Black beans and rice,” he answered, wrapping his arms around my waist and lifting me up onto the counter. He moved a stray lock of hair from my face and said, “I missed you so much today.”

  “I missed you, too,” I lied, guilt trickling into my veins because I honestly hadn’t thought of him all day. “Tell me about your day.”

  “Same old, same old,” he said, rubbing my hips. “Tell me about yours.”

  “Oh, you know, same old, same old,” I said in a bored voice. “Except for the lovely conversation I had with Seline this morning about my work hours. Something you wanna tell me?”

  “I did it for your own good, baby,” he said, not looking at all apologetic. Baby…I wished he’d pick another name. “You overwork yourself, it’s not healthy. It’s okay to be angry with me right now, but one day, you will thank me,” he said, pushing back my bangs so they stayed off my forehead, caressing the side of my face, then running his thumb along my jaw. Letting my head fall to the side, I attempted to relax into his touch—to feel the shivers or butterflies that I was supposed to feel. Nothing. “Let’s not argue about this.”

  “We’re not arguing, we’re having a conversation,” I sighed, pulling a little out of his grasp. “Gavin, I’ve been making my own choices for years. If I choose to stay at work for fifteen hours, then that’s my decision.”

  “I disagree with your choices,” he answered, exacerbated.

  “Well, you don’t have to agree with them, you don’t even have to like them, but you do have to respect them,” I said.

  He opened his mouth as if he were about to respond then closed it again, not saying anything. Instead, he turned back to the stove to finish dinner. Rather than wait around in for him to decide to talk to me again, I went upstairs to change.

  We ate dinner and chatted about things as usual. It was comforting to have some semblance of routine back. After dinner, we headed to the living room and watched TV. There was nothing good on. Finally deciding on 1000 Ways to Die, Gavin settled into the corner of the couch with me tucked into his arm, lying on his chest. Two weeks ago, I wouldn’t have batted an eyelash at this. It was just how Gavin’s and my relationship worked. Now, now it was nerve-racking and, frankly, a little uncomfortable.

  A commercial came on, and Gavin caught my eye. I smiled, because I wasn’t sure what else to do. Slowly, he turned us, so I was under him. Hovering over me, he bent his head and kissed me. Slowly at first, but when I returned it, he deepened it. My arms automatically went to the back of his neck. Maybe things with us would just take some effort on my part. A little bit of time to get used to this. The new us.

  Pulling Gavin closer, I returned his kiss with as much heat as he was giving it. His hands moved to the hem of my shirt and played with it for a moment, before I arched my back, giving him permission to proceed. A second after that, his shirt was laying on the floor in a pile with mine.

  He wiggled himself between my legs and slid so his sculpted chest was pressed against mine, rising and falling with the heavy breaths he was taking. He kissed from my mouth to my neck, running his tongue up to my earlobe. I tangled my fingers in his hair, then ran my hands along his shoulders and down his muscular arms.

  It should have been working by then, right? I should have been feeling something other than the indifference. An eerie awareness fell over me. As if someone was watching us, it was the same sensation I’d gotten this morning on my way to work. I searched the room and didn’t see anyone. Craning my neck, I tried to get a clear view out of the window. All I succeeded in doing was giving Gavin better access to my half-off bra, which by then was an all-the-way-off bra. It joined the pile on the floor.

  The feeling was getting stronger by the second. I had felt it before, after Gavin and I came back from Oasis. And it was wrong to be doing this with him right now, when my mind was so obviously preoccupied with something—someone else.

  “Lina. What’s the matter?” he asked, pulling away from me so he could see my face. “You just completely spaced out again.”

  “Did I?” I hadn’t even realized that I had this time. “I’m sorry.”

  He bent his head to kiss me again, and I wiggled free, sliding off the couch before he had the chance.

  “I…um—I’m gonna go take a shower,” I said quickly, heading to the stairs, topless and all.

  “Yeah, okay,” he said, his disappointment clearly showing on his face.

  Not lingering for this to get even more awkward, I hurried up the stairs two at a time. I wasn’t sure which was worse, the hurt on his face or the relief that I felt.

  Lina 13

  Waking early, I dressed and headed to work. My goal was to avoid Gavin, which meant skipping breakfast. It worked; he was nowhere to be seen as I slinked out of my own house like a criminal. I needed some time away from him to think about things, to get things figured out. It wasn’t fair to either of us.

  The door was unlocked. Weird. I hadn’t seen Seline’s car out front. Maybe it was just the cleaning crew. After a quick looksee into our empty office and one lap around the first two floors, I came up empty. The cleaning crew must have forgotten to lock up. I’d have to let Seline know so she could address the issue. While the museum probably wouldn’t be the first place a person broke into, it’s still dangerous to leave the doors open. I headed down to the basement. Being there before Seline was a rare thing.

  Three steps from the bottom, I knew why. Telor was here. I couldn’t see him yet, but I could feel him. Walking softly, I pressed myself against the wall and sidestepped to where his work light was shining. He looked good: gray pants, a baby blue shirt, and his black hair flopping over his glasses. He had a slightly Mediterranean look to him with his deeply tanned skin and the slight bump on his nose. He was muscular in a natural lean way, nothing like Gavin’s obvious ‘I lift weights and often’ physique.

  Telor was diligently working on something, scribbling notes on every blank surface of the paper. I sighed, content to just stand there and watch him.

  “Are you going to come in and help or are you going to stand there and watch me?” he asked. His tone was not unkind, but it also didn’t scream I want company.

  “I think I’ll watch you,” I said, wincing as I realized how it sounded. I was rewarded with his mouth turning up at the corner. He spared me a brief glance that nearly stole my breath. That was ridiculous. It was just a look—quick, fleeting. But in those few seconds that our eyes connected, I felt…something. Some form of recognition sparked. “What are you working on?” I asked cautiously, setting my bags down and joining him at the table.

  “The same thing we were working on yesterday,” he said, not looking at me.

  “Hey, I’m not sure what happened yesterday at lunch, but if I said something to offend—” I started, but he cut me off by holding one finger in the air.

  “You didn’t say anything to offend me,” he said, sounding annoyed. Oh, how audacious of me to try to handle an issue with a coworker like an adult. While I wanted to be indifferent to his words, I couldn’t. “Now, are you helping or leaving?”

  “Um, maybe I should leave.” I fought the irrational tears pooling in my eyes. My face must have been bright red. God, this was so embarrassing. Why was he getting to me so much? “You seem to want to be alone.”

  He didn’t confirm nor deny my statement, just returned to his work, ignoring me entirely.

  Vacating the scene as quickly as I could, I headed back up to my office, deciding to make myself scarce for the rest of the day. I passed Seline on the way upstairs, letting her know I would be working up in the
office. She was more than happy to let me toll away in administrative hell in her place. After grabbing a stack of mail from our inbox, I sat at my desk and furiously ripped open envelopes. Really, I had no reason to be angry or upset even. But that didn’t change the fact that I was. The same wrongness that I felt last night slowly gathered into a haze around me, suffocating me with a stranglehold.

  My plan was successful for about three hours.

  “Lina, why don’t you come back downstairs. We could use the help,” she said as she fished a spool of twine from her desk.

  Wishing I could say no, that I wanted to stay up here and avoid everyone, I took a calming breath, pasted on a smile, and said, “Sure.”

  Seline made a beeline directly downstairs and pointed me toward the same tunnel that Telor occupied. Slipping in silently, I picked up a notebook and started entering information in an attempt to not draw attention to myself.

  It seemed to work, Telor hadn’t glanced my way once in the last hour. Now that it was lunchtime, I kept my head bent at my desk as he hurried out. A sweet smell lingered in the air after he left. It was smoky and spicy. I inhaled deeper, trying to get a better grasp on it. It was familiar and evoked that same sense of déjà vu I had around Telor. Closing my eyes, I took another deep breath, letting the scent fill my lungs.

  Suits, lots of suits, and a pretty cream-colored wedding dress on a dressmaker’s dummy, tucked in the corner of a closet. There was a woman talking in the background, her accent was as lovely as it was familiar, wrapping a blanket of comfort around me. I wanted to stay here forever.

  A short woman with brown hair pulled into a messy knot and secured with two crochet hooks parted the clothes on the rack. She smiled brilliantly and stooped down so we were at eye level.

  “Fancy your biscuits in the closet, love?” she asked, the words flowing beautifully off her lips. She was middle aged, and her blue eyes sparkled against her beige skin.