Amy and I literally spend an hour here, trying on everything and filling our baskets until our lips are rubbed raw from the makeup remover and our hands and wrists are rainbows of different swatches.
Then it happens.
I see him again.
Standing just beyond the doors to the store.
Staring right at me.
And for once, for once, I can see him clearly.
He’s tall, well over six feet. Broad shouldered and barrel-chested under a black leather jacket and black shirt, black jeans and black boots. He’s pale in a way that brings to mind a classical sculpture, or maybe it’s his face, which is exactly as my mind has tried to piece together.
His jaw is chiseled, his chin square and sharp enough to cut glass, covered by light scruff and complete with a chin dimple. His forehead is wide, expressive even, as he stares at me with piercing blue eyes under arched brows. His hair is chin length, slicked off his head, dark cinnamon. A ginger, just as I had remembered, though he’s probably the sexiest, most enthralling male specimen I’ve ever seen.
“Can I help you with anything?” a Sephora saleswoman with stripes for cheekbones steps in front of me, blocking my view.
I shoot her a dirty look, because I never need help in Sephora, and dart around her.
But he’s gone.
I hand the bewildered assistant my bucket and walk quickly through the store until I’m outside the doors, my head whipping around. People are going to and fro but the tall guy from my dreams, from my fucking dreams, is nowhere to be found.
Maybe he was never here at all.
Suddenly I’m hit with a queasy, stomach-churning feeling, my skin immediately clammy.
“Ada!” Amy calls from behind me but her words barely reach.
I can only just stand here, shoppers walking past me, bumping into me, wondering if I’m slowly going insane. Am I actually seeing this guy? Is it one of those cases where you dream about someone and then see them the next day? Is he really the guy from the wedding or was there even a Jay at all? Did I imagine everything?
I’m having trouble standing upright and tilt back just as I feel Amy’s hand on my shoulder, holding me up.
“Hey, are you all right?”
I nod, licking my parched lips as I slowly turn around to face her. Everything seems so swimmy, woozy, like I’m underwater.
“Got dizzy,” I manage to say. “It’s the Coke crash.”
She frowns at me. “Why are you out here?”
I blink a few times, trying to get my thoughts together. “Nothing. Thought I saw someone but it was nothing.” I take in a deep breath and give her a broad smile. “Okay, I think I’ve got some makeup waiting for me.”
We head back into the store.
CHAPTER TWO
My head is still swimming when Amy drops me off at home and I blame it on getting my period rather than the mysterious dream man I saw in town. I give her a wave with my Sephora bags and watch her drive off, standing next to the For Sale sign on our front lawn.
I hate that our house is for sale. It adds another level of uncertainty to my life, not knowing if I’m going to spend half my school year here, or in an apartment with a roommate I don’t know. I know the market is slow right now and my dad is asking for a bit much, maybe because deep down he doesn’t want to move either, but our neighbors sold their house in just a month, so who knows what will happen.
Speaking of neighbors, one of my new ones has spotted me as she exits her house, the driveway full of boxes. They only moved in yesterday, a retired couple, who had a group of brawny movers helping them and providing mucho eye candy as I watched through my bedroom window.
Normally I would march right into my house and feign ignorance, but with my mom gone someone has to step up as woman of the house.
“Hello,” the woman says to me, coming over to the fence and holding a pan of what looks like brownies. She’s gorgeous even though she has to be in her mid-sixties. Her hair is curly and pulled back, a stunning shade of grey, and her face is pale and freckled giving her a youthful appearance.
I walk over to her and smile, always feeling a bit awkward in these types of situations. You know, the ones that require being polite and normal.
“Hi,” I tell her. “You must be our new neighbors.”
Well. Duh. Good one, Ada.
“We are,” she says, smiling with perfect teeth. “I’m Dawn.” She offers her hand and I reach over the low fence to give it a light shake.
“Ada,” I tell her.
She nods over at the For Sale sign. “Though perhaps we won’t be your neighbors for long.”
I sigh. “Yeah, believe me I’d rather not move.”
“Lived here long?”
“My whole life,” I tell her, feeling my heart pinch. I swallow and attempt a shrug. “Though I am starting college next month so I guess it’s time for me to hit the road anyway. My older sister moved out and it’s just my dad and me.” I don’t know why I’m blabbing on to this woman but there’s something about her that makes me think she’d understand. I pause. “My mom died a few years ago and I think the house just holds too many memories.”
Her face softens. “I’m so sorry. That must be so tough. I lost my mother when I was younger . . . you never quite get over it.”
Great. But hell. At least she’s telling me the truth. Everyone else makes it sound like death is something you forget with time.
“Here,” she says, passing the brownies over the fence. “I’m not the best cook even after all these years, but you can bet I can bake the shit out of brownies.”