Love Scars - 1: Scratch (5 page)

She loved Frank. She’d never told me anything different. But I knew my best friend, and I knew Brad had gotten under her skin. She was fighting it out of loyalty to Frank, and love, but it was a beautiful evening at the edge of summer, and the perfume of jasmine filled the air. Brad wasn’t a bad dancer. They looked good together. Too good.

“Frank,” I said. “When I get back from my internship, why don’t you just stay? Move in permanently.”

I didn’t hear his answer.

My heart started pounding, and the sound of rushing blood filled my ears. My mind went blank. Someone gasped—I’m pretty sure it was me—as an amazing guy opened the side gate and walked into my life. I mean walked across the lawn to Brad and Lisa.

He was tall and lanky, in khaki-colored carpenter pants and a sleeveless brick red shirt that exposed his lean muscular arms. His easy gait—he walked in slow motion, truly—reeked of self-confidence and physical strength.

He showed Brad the brown paper bag he carried. Lisa looked inside it and pointed to the house. They all turned toward the deck.

His eyes met mine. I couldn’t breathe. In the whole world, there was nothing but those eyes, dark, kind, intelligent, and deep. I blinked and grabbed Frank’s half-finished martini and swallowed the rest of it, grateful as the cold tart liquid reminded my body to function.

He walked toward me, his loose brown hair falling forward. He had great cheekbones and nice lips. I was gawking but I couldn’t stop. Did I say nice lips?

“So. Brad’s friend.” Frank grinned and offered his hand to help me up. “Not in the bozo category.”

I needed that hand, not to pull me up but to anchor me to the planet. I rose to my feet, dizzy and disoriented. Then Not-A-Bozo smiled at me, and I was lost.

-
oOo
-