Galen stood outside Bell’s office, pacing back and forth just out of sight. He had been there fifteen minutes already.
He had debated walking in but was afraid she was busy and he would distract her. Then he thought he would knock, but again, what if she were right in the middle of an important note and she lost her concentration.
His mind was full of questions and debates. Should he kiss her as a greeting? Should he hug her? Should he wait and see how she wanted it to go? But what if she thought he wasn’t interested; he was very interested.
So caught up in the tornado of his mental anguish, Galen did not hear the door open or feel her eyes on him.
Bell had been watching him for at least a couple of minutes before she cleared her throat.
She would have happily watched him continue to pace back and forth with anticipation and worry for a lot longer. His concerns were written plainly on his face, and she relished it.
