She’s munching on something, and I’d bet it’s the baby carrots from the fridge. “I texted you.”
“I was asleep,” I say, peering at her through my lashes. Sure enough, she’s holding a plastic baggie of baby carrots. “What are you doing back?”
“Good to see you, too, Julian,” she says, but her voice isn’t as teasing as it would normally be.
I push my upper body up, leaning against the headboard, the blankets pooling at my waist. Stevie’s eyes follow the movement before snapping back to my face, blinking.
“I’m glad you’re here.” It’s the truth. When I came back from my shift this morning, the house felt too quiet. I turned on an old sitcom on the TV during “dinner,” a tasteless chicken breast and a serving of microwaved vegetables on my plate, but it didn’t seem as funny as when Stevie and I would watch together, laughing at the ridiculous jokes and making up our own commentary. “I just wasn't expecting you until tomorrow night.”
She toes at a scuff on the hardwood with her boot. “Yeah, me neither.”
Again, she sounds off. Not quite sad, but something I can’t put my finger on.
“My uncle wanted me to take a slower start getting back to work, so I just did a day hike today.”
“Oh,” I say. “That’s nice, I guess.”
Her eyes meet mine, intense, and I’m acutely aware that I’m half naked in bed.
“Yeah, I guess.”
I lift a brow. “Not nice?”
She inhales. Exhales. Stands taller. “No, it’s fine. I’m sure I needed the break.”
I watch her for a long moment, trying to decipher her facial expression, but it’s gone blank. I can tell she’s about to leave, but for some reason, I don’t want her to.
“Speaking of, we’re supposed to be doing something fun while we’re off work.”
She shakes her head. “Can’t. I need to help my mom with her garden. When I went over there last night…” she trails off, lost in her thoughts, before meeting my eyes again. “It was just kind of a mess. I need to take care of it for her. And then I have another day hike the day after tomorrow.”
“I could help. With the garden.”
I don’t know what makes me say it, except that in the few hours I was here alone today, I felt…lonely for the first time in years. At my past jobs, I’d sometimes gotten to know my coworkers. We’d go out for the occasional post-shift drinks, or I’d be invited to a birthday party that everyone who worked our shift would be invited to. And there were women I’d meet, dates I’d sometimes go on. But in the last ten years of working this job, Stevie is the person I’ve spent the most time with. And now that I’ve gotten used to her being around, my alone time doesn’t feel as satisfying anymore.
Stevie stares at me for long seconds, her hand in the carrot bag. “Why?”
I shrug, unsure how to answer. I’m sure as hell not going to tell her it’s because I was lonely when she left. “I don’t have anything better to do.”
A grin lifts one corner of her mouth. “Words every woman loves to hear.”
“What can I say? I’m charming.”
Her smile widens, and the sun catches in her hair, making a halo around her. It’s wavy today, hanging loose around her shoulders like she pulled it out of a braid. She’s dressed in a fitted dry-fit shirt and utility pants with heavy hiking boots on her feet. There are freckles on her cheeks from the time she spent in the sun. She looks way more in her element than she has lounging around the house the past two weeks. It fits her.
“Seriously, though. You don’t need to come.”
This distracts me from my perusal, pulling me from my thoughts. “Why not?”
She lifts a shoulder. “You’ve helped me out entirely too often in the last few weeks. You don’t need to come pull weeds with me.”
The truth is, I want to. I could spend my day off hiking one of the many trails around town or trying out one of the restaurants I haven’t had a chance to yet, but I’d be doing those things alone. And I’d rather spend my day with her than spend another one wandering by myself. It’s a surprise, and I’m not sure what to make of it, but it’s true regardless.
“I don’t mind, really.”
Her gaze holds mine for a long moment, and I wonder what she’s parsing in my expression, if she can see the truth written in it. “If you really want to.”
“I do,” I say.
