“I putyour stuff in the trunk and tested out your car while you talked to my mom earlier.”
“Thank you,” she replies as we come to a stop in front of the house at the bottom of the porch steps. “Do you ever do anything unhelpful?”
“I don’t know.” I chuckle. “I have my moments.”
Right now, I wish I was good at knowing what to say. It’s never bothered me before that I’m a man of few words. But I’m out of practice articulating what I want to say and when to say it.
See ya on the flip side?
That doesn’t feel right.
I push back my hat to scratch the top of my head, which is a nervous habit, I guess. Izzy gathers the hem of her sweater in her hands, twisting it just enough to leave a few wrinkles in the thin knitted fabric.
“Your family seems great.”
I put a hand in my pocket and look back to the house momentarily. “They’re a lot. But yeah, they’re great.”
“And thank you for letting me stay with you.”
She’s so sweet, it hurts.
I nod and clench my jaw.
“Okay, well . . .” Her eyes look a little shinier than usual. She shrugs and twists her mouth into a soft smile. “Call me?”
Without replying, I step closer to her, taking one of her hands and pulling her the rest of the way toward me. She collides gently with my chest, a soft breath leaving her lungs simultaneously. With my free hand, I smooth over her jaw and then behind her neck. My fingers thread tightly through her hair, and I feel every delicate strand in my grip.
Leaning down, I place my lips over hers, not closing the distance between us all the way yet. “I’ll call you. I’ll call you until you’re sick of hearing from me.”
She rises to her tiptoes, not wanting to wait any longer. My eyes close on their own accord, her hands fist my shirt beneath my jacket, and our lips melt together as sweetly as the first time we kissed.
It surprises me that I think of the kiss as sweet. I have no idea what kind of guy I’ve turned into these past few days around her, but I don’t hate it.
Too soon, she breaks our contact, and I roll my lips into my mouth, tasting her there. I’m going to miss that. I’m going to missher.
“I should go now,” she whispers.
“I don’t know what to say,” I admit while clearing my throat with a fist over my mouth.
“You say goodbye.”
I stare down at her with a heavy expression. “Goodbye.”
She sniffs and turns toward the car, hesitating momentarily with her hand on the handle. Looking back at me with something unspoken in her eyes and the corner of her bottom lip between her teeth, I get a final departing smile.
When she eventually opens the car door, the creak of the hinge slices through the silence. After sliding into the driver’sseat and finally closing the door, the engine roars to life. The wind picks up at that moment, and I pull up the zipper on my jacket, then place my hands in the pockets.
The car rolls backward slowly and at an angle before stopping again and switching into drive. I smirk at her gentle wave through the window, answering with an unenthusiastic wave of my own.
She turns her head, focusing on the road ahead as the car pulls farther and farther away. A minute later, the tail lights flash red as she stops at the end of the driveway. I don’t know why I hoped maybe she’d turn around. It’s a foolish notion, knowing she has somewhere important to be and a life to return to.
We’ll talk soon and see each other somewhere down the line, I’m sure.
I try to remind myself that there’s nothing to worry about as she disappears out of eyesight. But I can’t stop the heavy sigh and glance toward the sky. How cruel to meet her and, in a matter of a few days, get to know her like I did—only to realize that our lives don’t necessarily fit together perfectly like two matching puzzle pieces. There are a whole lot of things to figure out if I have any hope of something with her.
And that fucking sucks.
I don’t feel like going back in the house and answering a bunch of my family’s curious questions right now, so I head to the barn. It was probably immature to kick a few stray stones on the way, but it did make me feel slightly better, I have to admit.
