Page 105 of The Difference Between

Gavin: “You’ve been thinking about more than the kiss.”

Our eyes meet and my yes is right there. Because I have been. To the point I’m half insane.

Because I keep thinking what if one kiss leads to two leads to a life’s worth and that’s insane.

Despite every difference between us, I like him. A lot. I like the way he looks at me and cares for Addie and does the right thing. I like him despite his lack of ambition to finish his shed house or be anything more than a lawn man.

“Say you’ve been thinking about the same things I have,” he begs in my ear.

Yes, my brain screams. Yes, yes, yes.

“I—”

Jan calls, “Four dot,” and I look away from Gavin to say, “Call.”

I take the tile and grin. “No thanks to your eye candy, that’s mahjong, ladies.”

As I call off my tiles, the table collectively groans and tosses their cards to the center.

“Gavin, your girlfriend’s a con.”

I laugh and take a sip of my water. “Not his girlfriend.”

“She keeps saying that.” Gavin pokes my ribs. “But I’ll get her to crack.”

Everyone laughs.

Even me.

Twenty-Nine

“How does one find the pastel-colored underbelly of Fontain and start playing mahjong while eating barbecue?”

Gavin chuckles as we step onto Mom’s porch and into the glow of the lone light above the front door.

He leans against the railing then loosens the knot of his tie.

That doesn’t make me imagine anything dirty at all.

“Accident,” he says. “Right after Greg and Amanda died, I ended up there on a Thursday night to grab dinner and there they were. Jan knew my mom, and we started talking. Guess she could see I wasn’t in the best place and invited me to join.” He shrugs, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he squints at the dark. “We used to meet every week, but schedules were too hectic so now it’s once a month. Still a good time. A break from reality, you know?”

I nod even though I don’t. Not until tonight, at least.

My nonanswer hangs, clunky. He’s looking at me with his new devastating face and I don’t know what to say or what comes next. The cool breeze and bright stars feel romantic, as does the fact I spent an hour on his lap with his voice making love to my eardrum, but now here we are, on my mother’s porch, and I’m torn between asking him to kiss me while I dry hump him in that suit or telling him good night.

“You wanna dance with me?” he asks.

I laugh.“As much as you know I love dancing—” I look around the porch. “You hear music I don’t?”

He slides his phone out of his pocket and taps around the screen until music plays. The Temptations sing the first lyrics of “My Girl” and he sets the phone on the railing.

“I do now,” he says with a half smile. At my hesitation: “I saw your moves with Addie.” My cheeks heat as he reaches a hand to me. “Don’t get shy on me now, Miss Reese.”

Dancing with Addie in the living room is different—playful—and this will be anything but. The epitome of why I hate dancing—the closeness. The way he’ll touch my body and the feelings it will dredge up that I’ve been fighting like hell to keep undredged.

He gestures with his hand. “No fighting, remember?”

I hesitate then put my hand in his and his half smile turns whole.