The Summer Proposal

“I don’t even remember that.”

I shrugged. “I also got this one.”

Georgia took the movie from my hand, laughing. “The Phantom Menace? Didn’t you tell me this one is the worst of all the Star Wars movies?”

“It is. But I was hoping maybe it would bring me luck again.” I wiggled my eyebrows.

Georgia smiled. “You’re going to try to feel me up when I’m sick?”

I held up my hands. “I wasn’t going to, but if that’s what the powers that be wanted…”

She laughed and then grabbed her throat. “Oww… Don’t make me laugh. It hurts.”

Damn, her smile made my chest feel funny. I wondered if I might be coming down with something, too.

Georgia held Four up in the air, smiling at his tiny face. “I can’t believe this little guy is your dog. He’s so freaking cute. What you must look like walking the streets with him. Do you even notice the women fainting as you pass?”

When I smiled, she pointed to my cheeks. “Put those things away, Yearwood. I’m weak. Flashing those dimples isn’t playing fair.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I smiled more, making sure to showcase what she apparently liked.

Georgia stroked Four’s head. “I’m surprised your party ended so early. It’s barely nine o’clock.”

I shook my head. “It’s not over. I just ducked out for a little while.”

“You left your own birthday party?”

I shrugged. “There’s plenty of food and booze. Most of them won’t even notice I’m gone.”

“I cannot believe you left your own birthday party to come nurse me.”

I leaned to her. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“What?”

“I only threw the party so you’d come anyway.”

Georgia stopped petting Four. “Are you serious?”

I nodded. “It didn’t work out too well, did it?”

“I don’t quite get you, Max Yearwood.”

“What do you mean?”

“You have to be able to walk into a room full of beautiful, single women and cozy up to almost anyone you want. So why are you over here risking getting sick for someone who comes with a truckload of baggage?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. We can’t control chemistry, I guess. Can you honestly say you don’t feel anything when we’re near each other?”

“I’m attracted to you, yes. I’ve admitted that.”

“Chemistry is more than an attraction. I want to spend time with you, even if it’s just sitting here right now.”

She studied me. She still seemed to be trying to figure out if I was feeding her a line of shit. I’m not sure if she made it to a final conclusion on the subject, because she suddenly started sneezing. Not once, not twice, but at least a dozen times. Each time, the pile of chestnut hair on top of her head bounced around and jerked back and forth. She reached forward to the coffee table, grabbed a box of tissues, and buried her face in them until she finally stopped.

“God bless you,” I said.

“Thank you.” Her nose and mouth were still covered when she looked over the tissues with watery eyes. “Still feeling that chemistry?”

I grinned. “I do find the way your bun flops back and forth kinda cute.”

She laughed and blew her nose. “You’ve taken one too many sticks to the head, Pretty Boy.”

“Maybe.” I felt Mother Nature calling, so I looked around the room. “Is it alright if I use your bathroom?”

Georgia pointed to a hallway. “Of course. First door on your right.”

After I relieved myself and washed my hands, I turned to find a hand towel. But the bar that usually had one was filled with something else. Thongs. Lace ones. Two black, two cream, and a red. I stared down at them longer than was likely appropriate. For a few seconds, I might’ve even wondered if she would notice one missing. But then I dried my hands on my pants and forced myself to exit the bathroom like a respectable human being.

Georgia was slouched on the couch in the middle of a yawn when I walked back in.

“Why don’t you have a little soup, and I’ll put on one of the movies I bought so you can rest, and I’ll get going.”

“Will you have some soup with me?”

I hadn’t eaten anything before I left the party, so I nodded. “Sure.”

Georgia went to stand. I put my hand up. “Stay there. I’ll bring it to you.”

“Thank you.”

In the kitchen, I rummaged through her cabinets until I found the bowls. Then I searched some more to see if she had any saltines. She didn’t, and I noticed her food stock was pretty sparse overall.

“I take it you don’t cook much?” I passed her a bowl of soup and a spoon and sat down with my own on the couch next to her. “Your cabinets are pretty bleak.”

“Yeah, not really. I work late a lot, and it sort of sucks to cook for one person.”

“Are you hinting that you’d like to make dinner for me? Because if you are, I accept.”