Sweet Dandelion

“S-Sorry,” I stutter as he enters with food. I stand back up, the frame clasped in my hands. “I was looking. I didn’t mean to break it.”

“It’s fine.” He sets the food down on his desk, not at all bothered by my snooping.

He holds out his hand for the photo but I can’t give it back right away.

I look at the girl in the corner, that innocent child who had no idea what was ahead of her or who was standing a mere few feet away from her—the man who would one day consume her heart, body, and soul.

“Dani?” he prompts, angling his head and trying to see what I’m so captivated by in the photo.

I hand it back to him with another mumbled apology. He holds the frame, looking at the picture like he’s trying to figure out what had me raptured.

I’m not about to tell him it’s me in the photo.

He sets it back down, but from his frown I know he’s still trying to puzzle it out.

With a shake of his head, he picks up one of the sandwiches and passes it to me. “I got a couple bags of chips since I didn’t know what you like.”

I look at the bags of chips on his desk and swipe the salt n’ vinegar ones. I’m not hungry anymore, but I know I need to make an effort to eat something.

I sit down in my usual spot, crossing my legs under me. It’s not the most comfortable position, but I make do.

Lachlan’s eyes feather over me. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“The picture?” I blurt, my eyes shooting up in surprise.

He

glances at the frame and back to me with a bewildered expression. “No,” he shakes his head, unwrapping the sandwich, “about Ansel. You seemed really upset when you got here.”

In my shock over the photo I’d completely forgotten about Ansel and the kiss.

“I overreacted.” I open the bag of chips, digging through it to pick out one that’s curled. “It was only my cheek.”

He frowns. “But you were upset.”

“Because I was surprised.” My eyes meet his reluctantly. Lachlan is probably the last person on the planet I should be having this conversation with considering we shared an actual kiss. “I … Ansel is my friend but I think he wants more.”

“And you don’t?”

I continue to stare at him. “No.”

“Why?”

The bag crinkles in my hand. “I like someone else.”

He sits back, clasping his hands—his sandwich and unopened chips abandoned on the desk. “Dani—”

I shake my head, not wanting to hear what he has to say. “You don’t have to say anything. I know it’s wrong. I know…” I swallow past the lump in my throat. “I know nothing can happen … again, but I won’t deny my feelings. Not when I’ve been numb for way too long.”

His blue eyes soften, the raging blue waters suddenly still. He looks like he wants to say more, but he presses his lips together.

We eat in silence.

The bell rings, ending lunch.

And still, we sit in silence.

There’s nothing else that can be said.