Page 55 of Pick Me This Time

25

STERLING

Iwalked Daphne home again, for the third time in my life. With her by my side, her hand hooked around my elbow and just the two of us on the sidewalk, I realized that I loved doing this. I just couldn’t wrap my head around why.

After the activity of the day, it was a quiet, clear night. The rain had passed and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. An almost full moon hung overhead and the stars shone bright above us. An orange glow lit the sidewalk from the streetlights, but there was no traffic, and the lights were off in most of the buildings and houses that we passed.

It really felt like it was just the two of us left in town, even though I knew we could come across more people at any time. I felt it when she glanced at me as we walked. “What did you want to apologize for?”

“Last night,” I said. “I didn’t express myself very clearly and I’m sorry I upset you. It wasn’t my intention.”

“What was?”

“My intention?” I asked.

She nodded. “You do realize that you said you wanted to apologize yesterday too, right? This is the second night in a row that you’ve wanted to say that you’re sorry, but I still don’t actually understand what for.”

“Well, last night was for kissing you,” I said. “I’ve since thought about the points you made and you were right. I made it sound like I thought you or the town wanted to hold me back, but that’s not what I think, which is what I’m apologizing for tonight. I was a dick.”

“You got that right,” she murmured, then tightened her grip on my arm. “It’s okay, though. I’ve had some time to think about it too, and I guess I understand why you might’ve thought that. For the record, it’s not true. I would never hold anyone back, least of all you.”

As we approached their house, a sense déjà vu smacked into me. Daphne smiled. “Good night. Thank you for walking me home. Again.”

“Good night, Daph. You’re welcome.”

She inclined her head, then turned and walked toward the back gate. When she reached it, she turned to look at me over her shoulder. Our eyes connected and held, just as they had that night.

I’d wanted to kiss her after that party, the first time I’d walked her home. Back then, I hadn’t known why I wanted it, but I knew why now and I wanted it more than ever. “Daphne, wait.”

She frowned, her head cocking, but I was already closing the distance. In two long strides, I caught her face in my hands and lowered my lips to hers, holding her cheeks in my palms and kissing her like I’d wanted to do ten years ago.

“I’ve been thinking about doing that for a decade,” I murmured against her lips when I broke the kiss. “I’m sorry it took me so long.”

She smiled, leaning into my touch. “Do you want to come inside?”

“The guesthouse?”

“Yep. It’s my house now.”

I nodded, sliding one of my hands into hers, and followed her through the garden gate instead of remaining outside this time. “Eric, Jake, and I used to come back here to do dumb shit when we were teenagers. I think that’s part of what threw me off my game last night. You’ve made it feel so warm and homey, but it was an empty shell the last time I was in there.”

She chuckled. “I know. When I was renovating this place to turn it into my home, I found your old stash of beer and a few empty bottles. You should know that I told my parents all about it.”

I laughed, surprised, but not so much. “Of course, you did. What did they say?”

She shrugged, unlocked the door, and flicked on the lights as we walked in. This time, I took a good look around at what she’d done with the old guesthouse. Last night, I’d been too thrown by everything to notice much more than that she’d renovated and made it all cute and pretty, but tonight, I was interested in seeing what she’d actually done.

The LaSalle’s guesthouse had been back here when we’d been growing up, but the original owners of the home had never finished the thing. When they’d bought the property, their intention had been to turn it into an art room, a gym, and perhaps a space to entertain.

At least, I remembered our moms talking about something like that when we’d been kids, but they’d never gotten around to it. Since it’d been a shell—but had walls—it’d been the perfect place for us to drink and be completely out of sight as teenagers.

Daphne had finished the place, though. It was now a comfortable, one-bedroom home with a small but modern kitchen that was open to her living space. The weird corner had been turned into a reading nook and she’d tiled it all, but a mishmash of brightly colored area rugs covered the tiles.

She’d put in a fireplace in her living room, with a TV against the wall, turquoise couches, yellow and purple cushions and throws, and bookshelves overflowing with everything from biographies to the classics. In the corner, an old school writing desk was filled with art supplies, and her kitchen counters were covered with baking supplies.

Looking at it now brought a smile to my lips. “I could never have imagined turning it into this from what it was.”

She shrugged. “I see potential where other people see something ugly.”