He might as well be speaking German.
I nod along. “Wow, that’s amazing.” Is it? I don’t know. I don’t care. I don’t give a shit. I just want to eat my frozen yogurt before it’s no longer frozen.
He laughs. “Yeah. I feel pretty lucky. What are you doing?”
“I work in a shop.” I point. “Just around the corner. I’m late, actually, from my coffee break. It was nice to see you—”
He smiles. “Ronald.”
“Of course. Have a nice day and enjoy France.”
“You want to get a coffee and catch up sometime?”
I shake my head. “I have to get back to work.”
He looks like he might say something but he doesn’t. He waves and watches me walking backward, desperate to escape him. His eyes bother me. Something about it all bothers me.
I turn and disappear into the crowd, taking the sneaky way back to work, and end up being really late from my break. The rest of the day sort of flies by. I don’t even know where it goes, just that I look up and it’s over. I close the shop and head home.
But Samantha Barnes never leaves my head. Who is this doppelgänger I apparently have? And why in the gods did she attend Berkeley? Unless, of course, she’s actually an activist, then Berkeley makes perfect sense.
I round the corner home, lost in thought. Derek has the door open for me before I even stand a chance at turning the knob. “There she is, the most beautiful girl in the world.” He smiles, but I scoff because between the two of us, it’s more likely he’s the most beautiful one. And a doctor to boot. Why he’s with me is the mystery. He pulls me in, breathing an entire lungful before kissing the side of my face. “God, I love you.”
I don’t know how I got this lucky. I don’t know why a magical man like him would ever have picked me.
Truth be told, I don’t remember when we met.
I don’t remember why it was me who got lucky with a man like him. That time is on the other side of my brain, the side I cannot reach.
He sweeps me into his arms, nearly crushing me, and murmurs, “Was it a great day?”
I nod against his soft cheek, staring at the open door to our house as a scent wafts out at me. “Did you make chicken Parm?”
“Of course. I always aim to please, milady.” He pulls me back, offering one of those smiles I’ve seen make the girls at work melt. I don’t melt, but I know if I were a normal girl I would. If any boy in the whole world could make me melt, it would be him. His eyes are dazzling green, with a hint of gray that only shows depending on his moods. It’s the strangest color combination. His smile is sexy and lopsided because he has a larger incisor on the left than the right, making one side of his lips stick out a little. I like the fang-like tooth, though. It makes him look like a vampire in the right light. I have no idea why I find that sexy.
Clearly I was a freak before I lost my mind in the fog. He dips and kisses me again, pressing our faces and bodies up against one another.
“You made that just for me?” He hates chicken Parmesan, which is crazy. I love it. I don’t think I love anything else, but I love it. It and the feel of my cat, Binx. He’s soft and fluffy and mean. I adore his meanness the most.
Derek brushes a large and yet perfectly groomed hand through his dark-blond hair. “Baby, I’ve got an OR time. I have to go. Which is why I made your favorite dinner. So when I’m doing my surgery, I’ll know you’re thinking about me.”
“I always think about you.” The words are plain, not meant to be charming or schmoozed. I don’t do that. I don’t know how to be charming.
He kisses my lips again but this time so delicately that it makes my stomach growl for more than the dinner he’s prepared. “I love you,” he murmurs into my cheek before brushing past me, waving as he runs to the car.
Watching him head off makes me smile, even if I didn’t get to tell him about my weird day or about my melted yogurt. My world and my news are never anything compared to the stuff he does. He saves lives, creates hope, and heals the sick. I wish I had gone to college and become something amazing like him.
He honks and blows me a kiss from the Mercedes. I wave back and head inside, excited for my meal. He always makes it extra saucy so that when I drag my garlic bread through it, the sauce soaks into the bread. He’s a wizard, I swear.
I can’t help but grin like an idiot when I see the table is set with a pink rose placed across my plate. They’re my favorite.
Dinner is in the oven, making the entire house smell of his skill. He is an amazing chef.
He’s amazing at everything.
One day I am going to wake up and realize this was all a dream, a wonderful dream but a dream nonetheless. There is no way he’s real and mine.