“Then why?” Callie’s voice is soft, and she’s looking at me with the expression of someone who might already know the answer.
“Because Decker has things to work through that have nothing to do with me. His relationship with his brother. His contract year. And most of all, whatever he’s been carrying for years that keeps him on the edge of things instead of in them.” I trace the lines in the stone of their countertop. “He just keeps stepping back. That’s not who I want. I want the version of him who can’t be without me. Hazel deserves more than someone who’s almost all in. I deserve more. We have to be enough for him to get there himself—or it won’t work.”
Leighton puts her hand on mine. “I get it.”
Callie slowly takes apart a s’more. “For what it’s worth,” she says, breaking off a piece of chocolate and handing it to me, “I think he’s getting there.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I can see it. The way he looks at you. The way he is with Hazel. One day he’s going to wake up and get his head out of his ass.”
I take the chocolate and eat it, deciding not to ask her what she means. It hurts to hope and feel as though I’ll be disappointed again.
Through the window, I can see the backyard—the string lights, the group of people who have somehow become mine in the space of a few months. Hazel’s laugh carries through the glass as Decker shows her something with a playing card.
I’ve been waiting for Decker Davis to make a move since I was twelve.
I’m not so sure how much longer I can wait.
Chapter
Twenty-Seven
Decker
* * *
My Uber pulls up at the park Penelope and I agreed to meet at, and the first thing I see is Hazel waiting on the sidewalk while Penelope and some man get a cooler out of the trunk of an SUV.
It’s one hell of a big cooler.
I’m out the door before my Uber driver comes to a full stop, leaving him a rating and a tip as I hustle toward Penelope.
“Decker!” Hazel waves at me when she sees me coming.
“Hey, Hazel. How are you?” I walk over and take the side of the cooler that Penelope is carrying. “I’ve got this.”
She heaves out a tired breath. “I might have overdone it.”
“She’s been cooking all morning.” Hazel outs her mom, and Penelope gives her a look. We get the cooler onto the sidewalk, and Hazel sits on it. “She made these peanut butter goodies.” Hazel’s eyes fall to the back of her head as though she can’t wait to have one.
“Don’t make my mouth water, I’ll start drooling and embarrass myself.”
Hazel laughs, and Penelope’s eyebrows rise as though she’s telling me to stop embarrassing myself.
“What?” I pull my wallet out to tip the driver for helping Penelope with the cooler.
“Cheesy and…” She hip-checks me. “I have it.” She pulls a twenty out of her pocket as though she had it ready and hands it to the driver.
“Thanks.” He gives her a quick smile and leaves.
I let it go although I would’ve preferred to pay, especially if she’s been cooking and preparing a lunch for us all morning.
“Now we have to get the cooler onto the grass.” I take both sides and lift.
“I can help.” Penelope pulls a large bag I’m guessing contains the blanket and other things over her shoulder.
“Hazel, lead the way,” I say.
