Page 18 of Forever After Fall

“Take your time. Pizza’s as hot as the center of the sun anyway.”

“Learned the hard way?”

“Might’ve.” He grins as he closes the door again.

He and Ford could never wait to eat. They were always ravenous and notoriously burned their mouths by eating the food I cooked before it had time to cool off. Remembering that makes this feel normal again. Like we should. Maybe we can fix this after all.

We eat dinner in comfortable silence, too hungry to care about the fact that there’s no conversation between us. Not even the kind where I update him on all the mundane comings and goings, and he grunts in response while stuffing another forkful of food down between swallows of beer. But when we reach the end of our meal, our time is up. The tension in the room builds with each scrape of the plate into the trash and every piece of pizza I load into a container then slide into the fridge.

When I turn back to put the box away and make the mistake of looking at him, he has the all too serious we-need-to-talk look on his face. I feel my pulse pick up in response.

I don’t know where this is headed, but I’m hoping it’s not back to our earlier argument. Pizza tonight felt like we were almost back to our normal groove, like we might still recover from the growing mountain of awkward occurrences between us this week.

“I’m sorry for being so pushy today about the bites and the clinic.” He breaks the silence.

“You were just worried. I understand.”

“It was still me crossing a boundary, and I don’t want you to think I don’t take yours seriously.”

“Anson, you don’t have to apologize. I was scared too, honestly. I just felt silly. We had just been arguing a bit before that, and well, this week just feels like one absurd situation after another for me. I’m just a little sore over all the embarrassment.” I opt for blunt honest.

“I know. And you’re right. I should mind my business about who you’re dating. It’s not my concern the way you getting hurt on my construction site is.”

“You’re concerned for Ford. He’s at that age when he’s impressionable. Whether he wants to admit it or not. Chris definitely isn’t a good role model for him. You’re right about that too.” I’m warming up to my admission that Chris isn’t my boyfriend. Explaining that I don’t have one at all. I’m just working up to the courage to admit one more humiliating aspect of this week.

“What goes on between you and Jasper isn’t my business either. I was just surprised is all. I know you thought it was him in that closet. So you kissing him right after made sense⁠—”

“I didn’t kiss him. He kissed me.”

Anson tilts his head, and his eyes lift from the floor.

“Is that distinction important, given that you were under the impression you were half naked for him a few minutes before that?”

“Considering I knew it was you and not him by then, yes. I know you must think I’m quite the harlot right now, but it wasn’t the way it looked. Or looks.”

“Meaning?”

I glance out the window, wishing there was a way to buy my way out of this or just run off into the woods and not have to fess up to the mess I’m in. But my mama always says the best way out of anything is straight through it.

“Meaning there is no boyfriend. Chris or otherwise. We’re still very much broken up. In fact, he dumped me.”

Anson stares at me in shocked silence for a long beat before he erupts into laughter. It stings for a moment before he makes it clear it’s Chris who’s the object of his amusement and not me.

“That fucking asshole thinks he can do better?” Anson laughs full and hard, shaking his head and rubbing his hands together before he cracks his knuckles. “If he wasn’t behind bars, I’d knock some fucking sense into him. Christ. That fucker.” Another derisive shake of his head follows, and something about it makes my stomach flutter.

Anson looks so good right now. Just standing in his kitchen. His old Briggs Construction shirt on and his worn-out ball cap turned backward as he leans against the counter. His jeans fit him perfectly, just enough to highlight his thighs, and I’m imagining unbuttoning them for a better look before I realize what I’m doing.

“I don’t know what he thinks. I don’t care,” I murmur trying to remember what I should say in this moment.

“You should tell Jasper the truth, then.”

“Why?”

He shakes his head, and something flashes over his face that I can’t read. I don’t know what the two of them discussed.

“Is that the reason Jasper’s not at the worksite? He’s angry with me?”

“If he was, and I’m not saying that. But if he was, would that be so hard to believe? You were pretty eager to be with him at the wedding, and then a few days later, you’ve got another boyfriend. I’m not shaming you, Bristol. Not at all. I’m just saying that’s some understandable whiplash to endure if a guy has feelings for you.”