"So, how are you?"

Her mouth was full, so the question came out awkward and muffled, but I had heard it loud and clear. Well, Carmen, let’s see how I am. I keep having horrible nightmares and flashes of a past that I can’t seem to recall, I’ve made a plaid-like pattern of scars on my left thigh that seem slightly akin to the shirts your dear girlfriend loves to wear, and I haven’t written a decent story in over two months. *****, I haven’t written a decent sentence. So how am I?

"I’m…fine, thanks for asking." I plaster the usual awkward smile on my face and look away, as if to say that I was embarrassed or humbled by her concern.

"Good, I’m glad to hear that." Carmen smiled, and I once again felt that awful twang of pain in my heart. It wasn’t that her smile was hard to look at; that was the furthest from the truth. If allowed, I’d watch her smile all day. When Carmen smiles, her whole face lights up. Her eyes become narrow, but they glisten. Her cheeks round out, making her seem like an innocent child. The way she bites her bottom lip oh, I can’t begin to describe how that makes me feel. Her grin is wide and playful, honest, sincere, genuine, inviting, endearing, soft, and beautiful. This one smile was for me, but this was it. That’s why it hurt so damn much. It was the pain of knowing that all of her other smiles were for someone else. Someone who would never appreciate them the way I did.

I couldn’t help but stare as she picked a small piece of cucumber from her salad and put it in her mouth. Oh, the agony of listening to the soft crunch sounds coming from her mouth, beckoning me. Kiss me…kiss me…they seemed to call out to me. Jenny…

"Jenny? Earth to Jenny! Yoo-hoo hello!" Suddenly her hand was slowly waving in my face. I straighten up, shaking the cobwebs from my head. *****. Did she catch me staring?

"Where did you go?"

I’m puzzled. "Hmm?"

"You just zoned out for a second, what were you thinking?"

I was thinking about how nice it would be to kiss you right now. That’s the truth. The only reason I’m restraining myself is because you belong to Shane, and apparently, Shane belongs to you. The world must be spinning off its axis. Shane McCutcheon, a one-woman…woman. I can see concern sweeping over her face, making her eyes large and doe-like. I’ve taken too long to answer. Now she’s thinking I’m not all right. I giggle uncomfortably and look down at my plate. I can feel her eyes burning holes through my head.