Page 118 of Romeo

Almost.

He pulled into Granny’s driveway much too soon.

Jasper walked me to the porch, one hand settling lightly against my back as we climbed the steps.

“Thank you,” I said when we reached the door. “For breakfast. For... everything.”

“Anytime, Cher.”

He reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. My breath stalled hoping for something different this time. Surely this time he would kiss me.

And he did. Jasper leaned in and kissed my forehead.

Again.

Of course he did.

“Ride safe,” I whispered.

“Always.” His smile was soft. “I’ll text you when I get home.”

Then he walked away. I stood on the porch watching Sugar’s car until it disappeared from sight. The spot on my forehead still felt warm.

Something was happening between us. I wasn’t imagining all of it. No man rode across the country, took a woman to prom, spent half the night on her porch, then woke up early to take her to breakfast because he felt nothing.

Did he?

I leaned against the porch post. He’d stayed. That should’ve been enough.

Except he’d also kissed my forehead twice while carefully avoiding my mouth.

Maybe restraint meant exactly what I wanted it to mean.

Maybe it didn’t.

I could still hear him from the night before.

Some things are better left untranslated, Cher. At least for now.

I closed my eyes.

There it was again.

Another almost-answer from Jasper Francis Alexander DuBois.

And apparently, I was going to have to become much braver if I ever wanted the rest of it.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Romeo

I didn’t leave Rosewood.

After dropping off Sugar’s car, I rode far enough out of town that anyone watching would’ve assumed I had, then circled back and parked behind an abandoned gas station near the edge of town. The windows had been boarded over years ago, the pumps were little more than rusted shells, and weeds split the concrete where cars used to stop.

Nobody paid attention to places like this, and I prayed no one noticed the bike parked in the lot. I did my best to hide it, but Rosewood was a small fucking town like Diamond Creek. The kind of town where people knew everyone’s business.

I checked the time—four-thirty. The hardware store closed at five.