Coming Home

When the doors finally opened, she approached his apartment and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath before she opened them and knocked. There was a muffled rustling sound, followed by the muted thud of footsteps.

A few seconds later, the door swung open, and the fluttering moved up into her chest. His dark hair was tousled to perfection, and he had a hint of a five-o’clock shadow defining his jawline. He was wearing a pair of worn jeans with a gray zip-up hoodie over a white T-shirt.

And her favorite dimpled smile.

“Hey,” he said, leaning over to kiss her cheek before he stepped to the side to let her in, and she was immediately greeted with the smell of Chinese food.

Leah hummed as she walked past him into the apartment. “Good call. That smells amazing.”

“You got here before I could take it out of the containers and put it in pots and pans on the stove.”

Leah laughed as he took her coat and hung it by the door. “Right, because I totally would have believed that.”

“Hey, I can cook,” he said in feigned offense as he walked over to the table and pulled a chair out for her.

“I know,” she said as she sat. “I was there for the Hot Pocket.”

Da

“No clue. Maybe you’re a masochist.”

Da

Leah glanced up at him, but by the time he sat across from her, his dimples were back on display.

“So how was the wedding?” he asked as he started opening containers. He looked up at her, his smile still intact.

Maybe she’d imagined it.

“It was really fun,” Leah said, reaching for the bottle of water in front of her. “Robyn looked amazing. Everything went smoothly.”

“It went smoothly? What’s to mess up? Both people say ‘I do,’” Da

She grabbed the fork. “Girl stuff again. But there’s a lot of behind-the-scenes stuff that can get messy if it’s not well pla

Da

“They exist,” Leah said, looking inside the containers. One was filled with sesame chicken, and the other contained pot stickers.

Leah’s mouth dropped. “How did you know to order this?”

“What?” he asked, his eyes trained on the chopsticks he was unwrapping.

“Sesame chicken and pot stickers? What made you order this?”

“Because it’s your favorite,” he said simply as he reached into his container with his chopsticks and pulled out a piece of broccoli.

“How did you know that?”

He popped the broccoli in his mouth. “You told me,” he said around his food.

“I did?”

He laughed softly. “Yeah. It was Tuesday night. Or maybe Wednesday. One of the nights I spoke to you this week.”

“Huh,” Leah said. “I don’t remember that.” She reached into the container and pulled out a pot sticker.

“I pay attention.”

Leah glanced up, and he winked at her before he grabbed his water bottle and twisted off the cap. She watched him take a long sip, suddenly overwhelmed with the desire to swat the bottle away from his lips and replace it with her mouth.

“What?” he asked as he put the bottle down and picked up his chopsticks.

“Nothing,” Leah said. “Just…watching you show off.”

“Show off?”

She nodded to his chopsticks, and he laughed.

“I’m not showing off. This is how you’re supposed to eat this stuff.”

She shrugged, spearing a piece of chicken with her fork and bringing it to her mouth, and he smiled, putting his container down and leaning across the table.

“Here,” he said, taking the fork from her hand and replacing it with the chopsticks. He manipulated her fingers around the sticks, his brow furrowed in concentration, and Leah kept her eyes trained on his face.

Maybe it was the fact that she had anticipated being with him all weekend, but right now, everything about him—his touch, his laugh, his voice—was driving her crazy.

“There,” he said, pulling his hand away. “Try it now.”

Leah strained to keep her fingers in the position he’d placed them in as she brought them down to her food, unsteadily gripping a piece of chicken between them. She raised it carefully from the container, gri

She pressed her lips together, staring at him, and he looked down at his lap and then back up at her before they both started laughing. Da

“Okay, you’re cut off,” he said, handing her back the fork.

Leah smirked as she took it from him, spearing a piece of chicken just as the double beep of her phone alerted her to an incoming text. She reached down with one hand and pulled the phone out of her purse, swiping her thumb over the screen to read the message.

She laughed softly before replying.

“What’s so fu

“My dad,” Leah said, finishing her reply before she pushed the phone away. “He just asked me how old my brother was when he stopped sleeping with his stuffed dinosaur, which could only mean my brother is at his house right now and they’re having a heated discussion over this very topic. I’m sure I’m being called in as a referee.”

Da

“Fourteen. My brother’s go

Her phone beeped twice and she leaned over. “My brother,” she said before tapping the screen. Leah smiled as she held the phone up, turning it around for Da

YOU ARE SO FULL OF SHIT!

Da

“Your family seems cool.”

“They’re the best,” she said, taking a bite of a pot sticker. “You gotta have a thick skin to roll with us.”

“I believe it,” he said with a laugh.

“What about you?” Leah asked, taking a sip of her water.

“What do you mean?”

“What’s your family like?”

He laughed humorlessly. “Not like yours.”

Leah twisted the cap back onto her water. “You don’t get along?”

“We get along, I guess.” He shrugged. “We’re just not that close.”

“Do you have a big family?”

“Just me, my mom, and my sister.”

“What about your dad?” she said.

“I don’t know my dad.”

Leah watched him for a second before she dropped her eyes. “Did he pass away?” she asked, sifting through the chicken with her fork.

“No, he left before I was born.”

“Oh.” After a few seconds of silence, she said, “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “It’s fine. I mean, I’m not fucked up from it or anything. I guess I could have been, but I had a family. It just wasn’t my real one.”

“Your mom wasn’t around either?”

Da

Leah bit her lip before she said, “We don’t have to talk about this.”

“I don’t mind,” he said. “I mean, if you don’t mind hearing this shit.”