Luke Evans knows how attractive he is, and uses that to his advantage. He can sit back and wait for girls to come to him if he wants to, picking them off like fish in a barrel. But that look isn’t the one that I liked to capture when I snuck pictures of him. It isn’t the look that had me thinking about things I’ve never thought of with other guys. It isn’t the look I’m currently staring at.
He’s concentrating on something, the TV I think, while I sit next to him. His one hand is tucked under his chin while the other rests on my foot that’s in his lap. His light hair is sticking up a bit, and he looks relaxed in a worn T-shirt.
It was this look that got me every time. This settled-down look that made me imagine him on my couch several years from now, doing absolutely nothing and being perfectly content with that. But this look was just another one of his lies. Another way to manipulate me into believing what we had meant something to him. And I fell for it, just like all the other stupid fish.
I close down the folder and right-click it, bringing up my options. And I don’t hesitate. I click delete and confirm my decision, sending the folder out of my picture file.
I find a picture of myself that Mia took with my camera at her wedding. I’m smiling and it’s remarkably genuine, which is surprising considering who attended that wedding, and how nervous I was about seeing him. My auburn hair is curling over my shoulders, half up in an elegant twist. I choose this one because it’s the most recent picture I have of myself, and because I look really happy in it. Of course I was happy. My brother made my best friend a permanent part of my family that day. I’d never have to say goodbye to her again. She looked so beautiful with her finally noticeable baby bump that Nolan kept touching during the ceremony. And when my nephew didn’t have his hands on her belly, Ben did. Protecting. Claiming.
It’s how he’ll always be with her.
Love. It suits the two of them.
I saw it in Mia’s eyes when she tried desperately to ignore her feelings toward my brother at the beginning of last summer. When she tried to hold onto the hate she was so comfortable with feeling and not let herself feel anything different. And I would’ve supported that hate, but I knew Ben. I knew how great of a guy he had become and how perfect he was for Mia. I saw his affection for her. The way he looked at her like nobody else existed, and I knew that he would’ve done anything to prove himself to her.
Even going the friend route, which I honestly did not see coming.
But it worked. And once Mia got to know my brother for the man he had become, she opened herself up to all those other feelings that were brewing just beneath the surface. I knew it wouldn’t take long. Not with the undeniable attraction the two of them had for each other.
You can hate someone until you’re blue in the face, but that doesn’t take away the desire that brews in your gut at the mere sight of him or her.
I know a little bit about that struggle myself. Luckily, I’ve managed to keep my distance.
I upload my photo and the screen takes me to a list of possible matches. I scan their faces quickly. Some look promising, but I didn’t join this dating service to patrol for penis like some cock-whore. If someone’s interested, they can contact me.
I’m still a lady, Goddamn it, and I’d like to be pursued.
Just as I’m about to log off and shut down my computer, a message pops up on my screen.
CaptainMike would like to connect with you.
Captain, huh? He looks good in his picture so I click accept, opening up his message.
CaptainMike: Hey, beautiful. Where the hell have you been hiding?
I sit back with a smile, pulling my knees up to my chest. Less than one minute online and I already have a potential date. And I was worried this would take more than a month.
Why the hell didn’t I do this sooner?
I keep my response short.
TK12: Hi. It’s nice to meet you, Mike. I’m Tessa.
The little bubbles pop up, indicating that he’s typing.
CaptainMike: Send me a shot of them titties. You barely gave me cleavage in your profile pic.
I gasp and immediately begin typing my response, fury in each key-stroke.
TK12: Fuck you, asshole. Go stare at your own titties, which by the looks of your profile pic, are bigger than mine. I’m actually jealous.
I close the chat window and march away from my computer.
Why the hell didn’t I do this sooner?
That’s why.
***
“Oh look. You framed it.” Mia runs her fingers along the edge of the picture hanging in my living room. It’s of the two of us on her wedding day, and I loved it so much I had it blown up to an 11x15. She turns toward me, keeping one hand on her enormous baby bump. “You really looked beautiful that day. Pale yellow is definitely your color.”
“Thanks. Unfortunately for me, I was totally outshined by the bride. She looked amazing and got all of the attention.” I reach over and lay my hand across her belly, dying to feel some of the kicking she’s always talking about. “Nothing. This kid must sense my presence and go into a power nap whenever I’m around.”
“He was flipping around like crazy earlier today. Kicking me in the ribs and using my bladder as a punching bag. I had to pee four times when I was at the grocery store, and you know my thing with public restrooms.” She scrunches up her face. “Gross.”
We both round the couch and sit on opposite ends, Mia taking a lot longer than me to plant her butt down. Once it’s accomplished, she lets out soft grunt. “I really hope I go a little bit early. I mean, look at me.” She motions to her belly. Her very pregnant belly.