Then There Was You(59)

Tears welled up in his eyes. Graham shook his head as if he couldn’t believe that I was serious. “Well, you know where to find me if you change your mind…” With that comment, he whirled around and stalked out the door, leaving the pictures of me and Chris sitting on the coffee table.

I could barely look at them—the fuzzy, out of focus pictures of Chris and me sitting at the tiny table at Acropolis Grill. That was just the beginning of those glorious but uncharted emotions that had me reeling for days. The attraction I’d been fighting was something I never in a million years expected, and I was still trying to figure it all out. But, that night at his apartment was engraved on my heart. I would never forget those moments alone with Chris, where I found myself having feelings for him I never thought imaginable. And the worst part was that I hadn’t stopped thinking about him since that night.

I take that back. The worst part was that I hadn’t heard from him again since that night. I plopped down on the sofa and pulled the stack of tabloid magazines into my lap, glancing at the headlines.



Chris King’s Mystery Girl?

One Night with a King?

A Rock Star Playboy with a Girl in Every Town?





Almost a week had passed since that night with Chris. I’d almost given up hope from hearing from him, assuming he’d changed his mind about keeping in touch. I felt silly for feeling attracted to him. Obviously, the attraction wasn’t mutual, and I felt stupid for misinterpreting his words, his actions… that hug. I guess in his mind, it was just a nice meeting with an old friend and nothing else. I couldn’t help my disappointment.

I sat in my car outside the dance studio, waiting for Alexis to get finished with her hip hop class. I was fooling around with that addictive candy game app when my phone alerted me with an incoming text. I assumed it was Alexis letting me know she’d be a few minutes late. But the moment Chris’s number popped up on my screen, my heart jumpstarted in my chest.

It simply read, Thinking of you.

I died. Not literally, but the feeling I got reminded me of a giddy teenager.

I texted back. Thinking of you too.

And that was that. I didn’t hear from him again for another three days. The silly teenager in me continued to check my phone constantly. Every time I’d swipe the screen I’d reprimand myself. Grow up, Salem.

It was a long three days of ridiculous vigilance. I tried to stay busy with work and Alexis’s after school activities, but I still couldn’t stop thinking about that text or when I would hear from him again.

I stood at the sink washing dishes when Alexis came barreling down the stairs. “Mom, you left your phone in your bedroom and someone is blowing it up!”

I turned, looking curiously at her. “Blowing up my phone?”

“You know,” she said, rolling her eyes as she held out the phone to me, “texting you a lot.”

I quickly dried my hands on a towel and reached for it, eager to know if this is the text I’d been hoping for. Swiping my finger to unlock it, I saw that I had three text messages… all from the same person—Chris!

Sorry I didn’t text you back sooner.

Busy on the road.

Hope you’re having a great week. Talk soon?

I sighed. After three days of non-stop daydreaming, his cryptic messages were a bit of a letdown. Ugh. Men!

Wonderful week. Yes, let’s talk soon, I texted back.

Great! Tonight? he immediately responded.

Yes!

Alexis cocked her head. “Who was it, mom?” she asked curiously, eyeing the grin I was trying to contain.

I tried to sound casual, but I’m pretty sure it came out more like a squeal. “Chris.”

Her response actually did come out like a squeal. “Chris King? Oh my god, Mom, that’s awesome! What did he say?”

“Nothing much. He wants to talk later tonight.”

She raised her eyebrows at me. “Mom,” she teased, “you’re totally crushing on him!”

“Oh my god, no,” I said, shaking my head, certain I couldn’t convince her if I couldn’t convince myself.

Her blue eyes twinkled. “Oh yes you are,” she nodded knowingly.

“Alexis Caroline, I so totally am not,” I grinned, having thrown her girly teen-speak back at her.

“Oh, for sure, you are. Trust me.”

I chuckled. “Famous last words,” I said with a wink. I’d used the ‘famous last words’ line on her so many times in her life I couldn’t keep count. Every time she’d say ‘Trust me, mom,’ I’d break out that mantra. She always had the same response.

“Ugh,” Alexis groaned dramatically, flipping her brown hair over her shoulder, “I can’t talk to you.” She spun around laughing, and traipsed back upstairs to her bedroom.