“You good?” I’m trying for casual, but my voice comes out shaky.
Korie glances up, blinking like they’ve just come back from somewhere far away. “Yeah. Sorry. Just… thinking.”
That doesn’t help. At all.
“About?” I press, softer this time.
Their lips twitch into the famous Korie almost-smile they do when they’re trying to be mysterious. “Tonight.”
My stomach flips. “Good thinking or bad thinking?”
A quiet laugh escapes them, and they step closer. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”
Well, at least that’s honest.
I force myself to nod. It’s difficult to act like their sudden silence hasn’t made my pulse climb into my throat. Reaching around them, I shut the trunk. My fingers brush their arm in the process, and it’s as if electricity snaps through me, sharp and immediate.
Jesus.
How is everything about this so… new? We’ve been friends for twenty-seven years, yet somehow it feels like we barely know each other.
We move around to the front of the car, and I hesitate before reaching for their hand. It’s either instinct or a gamble, I’m not sure.
Korie looks down at where our fingers touch, then up at me. There’s that small smile again, softer this time, a little shy around the edges.
They don’t pull away.
Instead, they lace their fingers through mine. Something in my chest loosens, and I feel like I can breathe.
Okay. Good, that’s… good.
I hold onto that as I open the passenger door for them, then quickly circle around to the driver’s side and start the engine. I’m tempted to reach for their hand again as I pull us back onto the road, but I don’t. I don’t want to push my luck.
For a few minutes, we just drive. Windows down, warm night air drifting through the car, carrying the distant sound of music and laughter from people we pass.
I glance at them again, unable to help myself.
Damn. They look unreal tonight.
The white dress catches every bit of moonlight, soft and glowing against their skin. The pink shawl draped loosely over their shoulders slips just enough to show the curve of their collarbone. And their nails—painted the same soft pink—rest against their thighs, catching my eye every time they move.
Korie put effort into this.
The realization hits harder than it should. I mean, Korie has always put effort into things. Into everything. They care in ways most people don’t even notice.
But this?
To do this for me?
Whether consciously or not, whether they trust where this is heading or not, Korie still leaned in. They chose me.
My eyes suddenly burn, and I turn away.
Please don’t let me screw this up.
Clearing my throat, I shift my attention back to the road. “So… onto the next stop.”
They turn their head, curiosity flickering across their face. “You’re being very mysterious about this.”
