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That’s enough of that…
“Rosie!” I shouted, so Chase didn’t hear the giant secret Rosie was moments away from spilling. “Give us a minute.”
She actually growled at him and spat at his feet before walking away. It was a proud moment for me. I couldn’t imagine a more perfect best friend.
He stared at me from the furthest corner of my porch as possible. “She’s feisty, isn’t she?”
“I love it.” The smile stretched from ear to ear. “I haven’t had many friends that were girls over the years. She kicks ass.”
He uncrossed his arms with a chuckle. “I was really excited to spend time with you tonight.” He looked broken, like someone deflated his football or took away his end zone.
“I was too. Parties aren’t exactly my scene.” It was the worst possible date idea ever.
“We should have gone to play putt-putt or found an ice cream parlor.” He took a step closer to me, physically breaking the barrier he had built between us.
“It’s not too late.” I twirled a strand of hair around my finger.
He grabbed my hand, shut the front door, and pulled me to his truck.
Chapter 14
Meghan
After 30 minutes of driving, we learned that the only putt-putt course in town was closed as well as all three ice cream shops.
“I have an idea.” He pulled into the grocery store. “Wait here.”
He ran into the store.
At least he left the truck running.
I took some time to look around the truck. I wasn’t snooping per se, just learning more about him. A person’s vehicle could say a lot about his or her character. The cab of the truck was well kept. There was a little gravel on the floor mats, but it was obvious he had recently detailed. The leather was shiny, like the sheen you get from using a little Armor All. He had a metal thermos in the center console, next to his wallet.
His wallet.
I’d watched him fiddle with it from time to time. I had wondered before if it was a nervous habit or some weird trick he found to help him focus.
“He’s going to need this in the store, right?” I asked out loud.
I grabbed the leather wallet to take inside to him. The folds fell open, revealing the contents. I never would have pried or opened it on my own. Wallets are personal. Too personal to dig through. But since it fell open in my hand, I had to look down.
Right in the front pocket was a torn, weathered photo.
The same photo that I talked to every night. The only photo I had of my dad and me.
That’s what he holds on to when he’s nervous or scared or feeling kind of timid.
Me.
Memories of our time together.
Us.
I tore open the door and ran inside just as he was coming back out of the store.
When our eyes met, I looked at him differently. It all made sense. He could never let go of me. Of us. I still meant something to him.
I threw my arms around his waist, snuggling against his chest. He held me back even tighter.
