Namid

Namid

Everything feels the same when I walk into the shop. I can hear the muffled sound of Jayce's tools, and coffee is waiting for me on the office desk. I can feel him, just like I always can, but today, that somehow feels wrong. It's not what I'd expected. There is grief, quiet and subtle and dim in the background of his soul. It feels the same as it has for weeks now. I feel a slight change when he hears the chime that announces I've opened the door. No one else is here today, and the door is locked, so he knows it's me. I'm the only other person with a key. He's happy I'm here, and the lightness that has slowly found its way into his soul expands ever so slightly at my arrival. It feels the same as it did the last time I was here. He feels the same as he has since the day we met for breakfast and he spoke for hours about Jordyn. He feels like my friend. I'm grateful for that, but I'd expected…more.

When we were together last Saturday, it felt like something had changed. As Jayce stood by my side, opening his soul and showing me something important and private, it didn't feel like friendship. It felt like more. He'd smiled at me in a way I'd never seen before, and it was all I could do to not reach out and wrap my arms around him. He'd lingered close to me, our arms and hips and shoulders brushing as we moved through the shop, examining piece after piece. His voice had been smooth and sure as he'd talked about what had gone into making each of them and what they meant to him.

A strange new tension had grown between us that had filled the room and sizzled across my skin. There were times I'd felt his eyes on me for a few heartbeats longer than they usually lingered. His laugh had felt deeper, his spirit had felt brighter, and there were touches of calm gold that floated from him in my direction. He'd felt different. He'd felt open and hopeful, and maybe, just maybe, it had felt like he'd been attracted to me.

We'd lingered inside his truck for a moment when we said goodbye, and I'd let myself wonder how he'd respond if I reached out and took his hand. His pale-green eyes had searched mine as if he were looking for something, as if he wanted more from me too. My world had been filled with the scent of oil and cinnamon and leather. I'd let my fingertips brush his leg through his beat-up jeans, and I'd wanted to kiss him so much that it hurt. His voice had been rough when he smiled and said goodbye. It had felt like…something.

Today, he's the same.

Today, there is no tension when he leans against the office door and talks about the weather and the car he's working on. His gaze doesn't linger on mine as he thanks me for being so kind about his art. He doesn't walk me to the door when I tell him I'm finished for the day. It's the first time since I began working for him that we haven't at least gotten coffee afterward. He'd texted me early this morning to tell me he'd have to skip our breakfast tradition today to finish a rush job, so I hadn't really expected it, but somehow, it still hurts.

Today, he feels the same.

I'm not the same.

I am in love with him.

I am stupidly, hopelessly, completely in love with him.

I sit in my truck in the empty parking lot in front of the shop and fight down the swell of emotion that clutches at my chest. My eyes burn, and the cool air in my truck stings my lungs as I try to suck in breath after breath. Nothing works like it should anymore; my throat is closing up and my heart is racing and I ache. I ache in a way I've never imagined was possible.

I want to watch him in his shop and walk with him in the park. I want to lace my fingers through his and rest my hand on his waist. I want to know what his skin feels like against mine, if his body trembles when our tongues tangle together, what it's like to lie with him in the dark.

I've known from the moment I met him that this is where I'd end up. That I'd fall so deeply in love with him that my soul would feel like it's on fire every time I look at him, and that's what's happened.

After our time in his studio, I thought maybe things wouldn't end up like this after all. For the past few days, I've let myself think…maybe. Just maybe there mi ght be a chance he could feel the same way. But today he's the same. Today he's my friend.

I'll learn to be okay with that. I'll watch him and love him and find a way to be thankful that I've gotten to discover what it feels like to fall in love. It will fade, and I'll be forever grateful to have him in my life in any way I can. I'll be okay loving him from a distance.

Won't I?