Page 31 of Last Letters to Ara
Hiding my grin, “Take the causeway and it’ll be on our left.”
“How could I forget?”
I play along. “So, what kind of textiles are you looking for?”
“The really textil-ey ones.”
I snort.
We spend the drive with the windows down, playing a beachy playlist which isn’t normally my thing, but it fits this moment so well that it’s impossible not to get lost in it. Since I rarely get driven anywhere, I take advantage of the situation and admire the view.
Florida is beautiful, even though I hate to admit it. I could live without the humidity and mosquitoes, but there is something calming about a wide expanse of water. Nothing in the world compares to driving down the Courtney Campbell Causeway, surrounded by blue skies, palm trees, and the salty breeze blowing in through the open windows.
Wondering how this moment can exist, I look over to Theo. How can my heart still want something this special, despite being ruined? It’s been broken by betrayal and hardened by loss, yet here it sits, struggling to make room for one more.
There is no traffic today, and the drive is about to be over, too soon for my liking. Theo sees the sign, turning on his indicator to get over and lowers the music. “See? Been here a hundred times.”
“I thought it was thousands?” I tease.
He winks. “So whatdoyou plan on doing with your textiles?”
I hesitate.
“Why do you have that weird look on your face like you’ve been caught doing something embarrassing?”
Wow, he’s really just gonna call it like it is. “I... make ...clothes?”
Not sure why it comes out as a question, but I’m considering it a win that I said it out loud. Not an ounce of judgment or condescension enters his expression, the same way it didn’t when I told him I work at the café.
Instead, his mouth drops. “That’s incredible. How did you learn to do something like that?”
A massive blush flushes my face. I’m not used to receiving compliments as it is, let alone about something I love. “I’m actually self-taught. Mainly just trial and error mixed with a lot of YouTube tutorials.”
“You’re telling me that you learned something as intricate as making clothes from YouTube?”
I shrug. With the first wall down, that ruined part of me opens one eye, ready to lock me down at the first hint of inquisition as to why I don’t do more with it.
“Wow. The longer I know you, the better you get.” Theo shakes his head. “It’s settled, then…you’re making me something pretty.”
• • •
“What about this one?” Theo holds up another sample of black lace. I take a good look at his suggestion but shake my head. It’s still just notquitewhat I’m looking for. I want something that’s a bit more sheer, more revealing.
Theo has seemed to enjoy himself since we walked through the doors. I trail my fingers over the dozens of samples of black lace until I find the perfect one. It’s black as ink, yet sheer enough to see skin underneath, detailed with stunning roses and ivy patterns.
“I found it.”
Theo joins me to consider the one I’ve chosen, his eyes darkening. “What are you going to make with it?”
“Most likely somethingnotdesigned for platonic eyes.”
“Well, surely you need to sample the design on a test subject before presenting it to the intended demographic.”
Is this...are we...flirting?
Theo steps a bit closer, facing me now, and I catch his eyes trailing over my lips. I’m locked in place, thoughts becoming absolute mayhem. The foreground looks something like “I will die if he doesn’t kiss me right now” and in the background, they’re trying to remember logic.
His eyes, having become nothing but stormy green depths, meet mine again as he takes another step forward, slowly dropping his head toward mine. He movessoslowly that I think…
