Something in Between Read Online Free

Chinese Hawaiian French.) This guy has deep brown eyes and cut-glass cheekbones, and he’s wearing a navy suit with a green tie and brown dress shoes. Although his clothes are perfectly put together, his hair looks like he’s been running his hands through it too much. When he smiles at something his father says, I notice a dimple on one cheek. He glances over and catches me staring, and I blush, because he’s really cute. My heart rate immediately goes up and I’m lucky I’m not hooked up to a machine right now.
    His father shakes Gladys’s hand. “Thank you, Mrs. Robertson. I appreciate your help.” He walks toward the elevator but the son lingers behind. “Go ahead, Dad. I forgot something.”
    I say hi to Gladys and she hands me the folder with the list of today’s patients who’ve signed up to be part of the project. The boy is still standing next to me. When Gladys gets up from her chair, she raises an eyebrow in my direction, then makes herself look busy at the filing cabinet.
    I can feel him looking at me, but he doesn’t say anything, so I finally do. “What did you forget?” I blurt.
    â€œI forgot to get your number,” he says, his voice low and rich.
    My blush deepens, and when our eyes meet, I feel a spark inside, like I’m all lit up from within. He smiles at me from under his long, floppy bangs. It makes me want to run my own hands through his hair, which looks so thick and glossy and inviting. I’ve never felt so attracted to anyone before, and I’m a little shocked at how much I want to touch him—a shoulder, an elbow.
    Somehow I find myself digging for my phone. I don’t know why, but I can’t remember my number, let alone my name right now.
    Gladys yells from the window. “Jazzy baby!” she calls. “I’ve got another patient for you!”
    I’m mortified, but the boy’s smile grows wider. He takes my phone from my hand. I didn’t even realize I was holding it.
    â€œTell you what. Why don’t you text me? That way it’s up to you. I can tell your mother taught you never to talk to strangers.” He punches in his number, takes a quick, goofy selfie to go with his contact info and hands it back to me. His fingers are warm, but dry. My hand feels electric.
    I pocket my phone, trying to look as cool as he does. I shrug, as if I could care less.
    When he’s gone, Gladys comes back to the window with an amused expression and a slip of paper with another name for me. “What did he want? Although I can guess,” she teases.
    â€œWho is he?” I ask, ignoring the teasing.
    â€œCongressman Blakely’s son. His dad represents our district. They were here visiting a relative.”
    I take a surreptitious look at my phone, at the mug shot he just took. He’s smiling like a doofus. A very handsome doofus who does things like take a girl’s phone on a whim. ROYCE BLAKELY , it reads. Royce? What kind of ridiculous name is Royce?
    Gladys smirks. “Cute, isn’t he?”
    I roll my eyes. “He’d be even cuter if he didn’t wear a suit. Who wears a suit in LA?”
    â€œBe careful what you say,” Gladys says, tapping the counter with a pen. “When you’re older, you’ll want your man to dress better. Some can get pretty lazy. After enough years together, you could find yourself begging him not to wear sweatpants to the Christmas party. Like I know I’ll have to do with Bob again this year.”
    I laugh and say goodbye to her, then take the elevator up to the floor where they keep the people who have chronic illnesses or have to stay at the hospital for long periods of time. Mom makes friends with a lot of these patients, since she cleans their rooms every day. When she comes home quieter than normal, I know she’s lost one of them.
    Most of our family still lives in the Philippines, so I understand what it’s like to be