Page 21 of True Sight (Nat. 20, #4)

“Conrad?” My eyes shoot to Hanna who’s leaning over her knees and watching me carefully.

“I just want you to know that it’s completely normal to have feelings for another person that you didn’t expect to have.

Sometimes we can’t explain our attraction to another person nor can we control it.

It just happens and I want you to know that you can talk to me about anyone you might be ‘into’ if that’s what you decide you are. Do you know what I’m saying?”

The look in her eyes makes me worry that she can somehow read my mind and knows who I was thinking about. My heart starts to race behind my chest and it’s suddenly hard to swallow. My throat feels like someone shoved a tennis ball down it. I rub my chest with my hand.

“Sure, I know what you’re saying. Hey, would you look at that, times up.

See you next week.” I jump up from the couch and before she can say anything or stop me, I’m running out of her office like it’s on fire.

The ideas and thoughts race through my head like the energizer bunny has taken a hit of cocaine and is out of control.

I need to get out of here before I completely lose my mind.

I’m not into Henry.

There is no possible way I’m into Henry. Everything I feel about him can be logically explained away and if I do my best to avoid him, they will go away completely. I’ll just do my best to stay away from him and get our project done as quickly as possible and then none of this will matter.

Hanna is just one person, not the almighty God of all things relationships and feelings. She can’t even get into a relationship, she said so herself.

What the hell does she know anyway?

The following Tuesday I reluctantly show up to my weekly meeting with Henry.

Since leaving Hanna’s office I’d successfully ignored his texts and managed to not think about him unless I was working on his project and I had to.

It’s a little hard to not think about someone when you’re custom coding their website and have to stare at photos of them the entire time.

But at no point did I think of him as anything other than professional.

At least, I tried not to.

I’ve been sitting across from him, talking at a marathon speed about his website updates, the current progress of his app, and how I plan to set up the tech in his studio so he can live stream his classes online.

My lips never slow down because I’m worried if I let him talk for too long my stomach will do that infuriating lurching thing or Hanna’s words will ring out in my head, luring me into a false sense of believing I have feelings for him when I don’t.

He’s just seeping into my head more than normal because I’m spending so much time with him.

To work on his project, not for any other reason.

“So then the virtual waiting room will automatically close two minutes before class starts so you can make sure your mic works and the cameras are all in sync with the feed. Once your studio is set up for that, I can come in and make it so that it’s just a click and go system for you.

Any questions on that?” I have my eyes glued to my computer as if it is the only thing around.

I’ve done my best to avoid his gaze since we sat down forty-five minutes ago but I need to let him ask questions if he has them.

When I finally look up at him, I know I’ve made a mistake.

He’s looking at me with some stupid smile on his face and is resting his chin in his hands like a five year old child.

“What’s that look for?” I can feel my face screwing up into a grimace and I try to look annoyed instead of nervous.

“Nothing, I just like listening to you talk about this stuff. It’s nice to hear people talk about things they’re so passionate about.”

“Yeah, well, you pay me to be passionate so?—”

“Conrad, please, we’re in public. People will get the wrong idea about the type of working relationship we have,” he jokes before winking at me. Suddenly my throat feels very dry.

“So anyway,” I try to continue but he cuts me off again.

“So you said you wanted to hangout?”

I look at him again and freeze. “When did I say that?” I snarl.

“Last week, on Wednesday. Remember, we were texting about hardware.” He keeps his voice smooth as he reminds me. When he raises his brow at me I try to look anywhere but at him.

“Yeah, and?” I scoff. I haven’t forgotten that I made the offer but I have chosen to pretend like it never happened. Unfortunately for me, he hasn’t made the same decision.

“And since you’ve ignored the few messages I’ve sent you about getting together, I figured I would bring it up to your face so you can’t ignore me.” He smiles and tips his head to one side, finding joy in calling me out.

My arms cross in front of my chest and I try my best to not let him get under my skin.

I should rescind the offer, tell him we need to just keep things professional.

The more I spend time with him the more my brain is going to think I like him when I don’t.

I’m just a sad, lonely asshole who hasn’t been with another person in a long time so it’s latching onto anyone who’s paying attention to me.

But when I bring my eyes back to him and he’s still smiling at me like he does, I can’t resist.

“It was an open invitation, I don’t know.” My hands wave in front of me like I’ve completely lost my mind. Maybe I have. I’m supposed to be ignoring him, not throwing out the opportunity to get together sometime.

“So we can hangout whenever?” His voice tips up as he asks.

“I guess,” I sigh.

“How about Saturday then?”

“Saturday?”

“Yes, like the day after Friday,” he quips. Smart ass . “In the morning, preferably.”

“The morning?” My voice comes out in a groan this time.

I hate mornings. Especially recently because my nightmares are getting more and more vivid, making it harder for me to fall back asleep.

I’ve become a zombie in the mornings and haven’t been getting out of bed until Annie is literally stepping on my throat to wake me up so I can take her out.

“Of course, the morning. It’s the best time of the day.” The way his eyes light up and he sits up straight in his seat makes me nervous. But it also makes my heart jump in my chest in a way it never has before.

Maybe I should see a doctor.

“You’re not going to make me like, run, or something, are you?

Or dance? I don’t dance.” This causes him to throw his head back and laugh loudly, catching the attention of the other coffee goers who were sitting around us.

My eyes darted anxiously to them and I want nothing more than for him to stop laughing.

When he collects himself he looks at me again. “I promise you, love, I won’t make you dance. Or run,” he finishes quickly.

I swallow hard and consider his offer. I can’t say yes. I can’t hangout with him on Saturday morning. I need to backstep out of this friendship thing so fast before he gets the wrong idea. But once again, his green eyes steal away any logical thought I try to have.

“Fine,” I exhale, giving into his request. “Saturday morning is fine.”

“Oh good.” He shrugs his shoulders and his smile grows wider. “Eight in the morning, come and pick me up at my place. Oh, and bring Annie, she’ll love it.”

He starts to pack up his stuff and I take it that our meeting is over. When he stands, I move to meet him as he slings his backpack over his shoulder.

“I’ll text you my address. I hope you’ll actually reply this time?” he asks, dipping his chin down and giving me a hopeful smile.

I roll my eyes at him and groan. “Yes, I’ll reply this time.”

“Wonderful. I’ll see you Saturday.” He waves and walks away before I can say anything or suddenly cancel on the account that I might suddenly be terminally ill on Saturday.

As he goes, I can’t stop my eyes from focusing on the way his legs look in the gray joggers he showed up in.