Her throat works. Her eyes gloss over, but her shoulders ease.
I clear mine. “And if it makes you feel better, you’re not the only one trying to figure it out.”
A small smile. Real this time. “Seems like we both have to.”
“Yep.” I take a bite of my sandwich and glance sideways at her. Our shoulders brush. I don’t pull back. “Aren’t we a pair?”
She laughs under her breath, and the sound settles warm in my chest, like something easing open.
She reaches into her bag and pulls out her phone and earbuds. “How about we forget the heavy stuff and zone out for a while?” She holds them out, smirking.
I take them and slip one earbud into her ear, brushing her hair back as I do. My fingers linger at her cheek a second longer than necessary.
Her breath stutters as she swallows hard.
Color floods her freckles. Her eyes lift to mine—uncertain, charged—and something pulls tight low in my chest. Not fear. Anticipation.
I slide the other bud into my ear. Our shoulders touch. Neither of us move away.
“All right,” I murmur. “What’ve you got for me?”
She grins and hits play.
Bikini Kill crashes in, but the music barely registers. All I notice is her. How close she sits. How her knee presses into mine. How her head tips and settles against my shoulder like it’s always known the way.
She exhales, relaxed, breath warm through my shirt. Her weight fits just right.
Easy. Natural. Beautiful.
For the first time in months, my arm stops screaming for attention. The ache fades until it’s nothing more than a distant echo.
Right here, with her leaning into me, the voice in my head finally shuts up.
We stay like this, song after song, and all I do is stare at the way the sunlight catches in Val’s hair, turning it into spun copper. Her dangling legs swing, and she’s lost in her head while the music hums through our ears.
“Maybe you could be a DJ,” I mumble.
She smiles and tilts her face up toward me, her chin resting on my shoulder. “That’s like me telling you that you could be a professional human pillow.” She settles in closer, just to make her point.
I grin. “Honestly? If it’s you doing the snuggling, I’d apply.”
Her cheeks flush pink. “You know that line was cheesy, right?” Her eyes sparkle, daring me to walk it back.
I don’t. I trace the freckles across her cheeks with my gaze. They stand out more when she blushes. I file that away for later. “It’s only cheesy if it’s not true.”
The color deepens.
Score.
I toss the last crust of my sandwich into the grass. “So,” I say, casual on the surface, nerves buzzing underneath, “if we can’t figure out what to do with our lives...”
She looks over, one brow lifting. “Yeah?”
“Want to do something to take our minds off it?” My gaze drops to her lips before I can stop it.
She taps the earbud in her ear. “Isn’t that what this is?”
I shake my head. “You’re still spiraling in there. I can tell.”
