You think I'm pretty?" I ask.
"We need to stop talking," he says a little gruffly. "We're scaring the fish off."
"Okay, okay." I bite my lip, then smile.
Oh right. What about Wendy?" I ask
"What about her?"
"It's her birthday, too. I'm the worst friend ever. I should have sent her something. Did you exchange gifts?"
"Not yet." He turns toward me. "But she gave me the perfect gift."
The way he's looking at me sends butterflies into my stomach. "What?"
"You.
Crap. No one's ever called me dorkina before. Derivative of dork. Not good.
Cynthia HandThis is isn't going to become one of those creepy situations where you show up at all hours of the night to watch me sleep, is it?" he asks playfully.
Cynthia HandStichwörter: tucker
There's nothing more inspiring than the complexity and beauty of the human heart.
Cynthia HandStichwörter: love inspiration beauty heart feelings
Pity party over?"
"Yeah, I think so."
"Good. Not good to wallow for too long. It's bad for the complextion.
As if the daytime wasn't bad enough, I dream about him. Every night for three nights in a row. I can't get out of that moment when I was in his head, feeling what he felt, hearing his thoughts as he kissed me. I can feel him loving me. And it kills me, that moment when I feel his love shift into fear.
Cynthia HandSo I'm in love. That crazy, forget to eat, float around in a daze, talk on the phone all night and bounce out of bed every morning hoping to see him kind of love.
Cynthia HandYou like me, Clara, he says. "I know you do.
Cynthia HandHe grins. Unbelievable how gorgeous he is. And that he's mine. He loves me and I love him and how rare and beautiful is that?
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