Eyes Open

A Picture is Worth 1000 Words

Hell had taken over New York this summer. I wasn't exaggerating.

There wasn't a single air conditioning unit that wasn't running on full blast, the frozen dairy treats sections in every grocery store were cleaned out, and any possible bit of shade on the streets was occupied by people too wary to venture out into the sun.

And the temperature was only supposed to skyrocket.

I hated more than enough things in my life, but oddly enough, the heat wasn't one of them.

When the temperature rose, it felt as if my blood pumped a little faster, my body moved a little more easily. The way the heat seemed to stick in my lungs, making it difficult to breathe, made me appreciate the fact that I actually could breathe. Summer was my favorite time of the year.

I ususally kept those thoughts to myself while the rest of my family complained about how miserable they were from the heat, though.

So in reality, I wasn't too particularly bothered about having to work in the coffee house's kitchen, manning the ovens and washing dishes, where it felt like it was a million degrees. It was better than working up front, dealing with people's demands for as many iced drinks as possible and the line of customers that seemed to stretch out the front door. I did not envy my mother or my cousins, Carlo and Lauren.

I put up a good show of sighing a lot and grumbling under my breath, but I was actually having a pretty nice day.

I had fallen in to the routine of scrubbing cookie trays and coffee mugs clean, when I heard excited chattering coming from Mom and Lauren, then footsteps entering the kitchen.

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling when I saw who had just walked in. "Nice of you to finally show up, Jamison."

Hadley rolled her eyes in my direction, shaking her head as she dropped her keys and sunglasses into a box beside the bathroom door.

"Not all of us have the liberty of living above our work place, Archer."

I shrugged, running soapy water through a blender. "Pity."

I heard her chuckle as she approached me, leaned up on her tiptoes to press her lips against my cheek. "Nice to see you, too, love."

I caught a whiff of her perfume as she leaned away, something citrusy mixed with vanilla, and my stomach did a nervous little flip flop.

Any idiot in their right mind could tell that my girlfriend was gorgeous. I had no problem admitting it anymore, not since I had finally accepted the fact that she was the one girl I had ever genuinely cared for.

Hadley and I had been dating for several months now, and I still wasn't completely sure I was used to the idea that she was with me because she wanted to be. It was hard to believe that anybody, let alone a girl like Hadley, would ever want to be with me. Despite my ludicrous doubts - despite everything - we were together. I was happy.

I caught an arm around Hadley's waist as she made to leave the kitchen and pulled her back against me, holding her close.

She stifled a giggle when I nuzzled against her neck, and asked in a completely serious voice, "What are you doing, Archer?"

I was rarely ever affectionate. Not because I didn't want to be, but rather because I was never sure if Hadley would shrug me off or react negatively. Sure, we'd been together for a while, but we still hadn't gotten past the awkward "does-he/she-really-like-me" stage. On my behalf, at least.

I didn't know why I had picked today of all days to act so out-of-character.

"You're getting my shirt wet," Hadley protested when I didn't answer her.