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“Good luck with that,” Blythe chuckled. “But seriously, if you’re planning to avoid Wells or whatever, don’t bother. I’ve seen how he looks at you. And you definitely don’t look like someone trying to avoid someone else.”

I could feel the heat rise in my cheeks again, but I forced a nonchalant shrug. “We’re just friends, Blythe. Nothing more. Trust me, nothing happened last night.”

She leaned in, raising an eyebrow. “I know.”

I sighed and threw myself back on the couch. “I’m doomed.”

Blythe reached over and patted my arm. “You’re fine. Just don’t let the whole town make you feel like a walking soap opera.”

As much as I wanted to take Blythe’s advice, I knew it wasn’t going to be that simple.

I nodded slowly, still processing everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours. My mind was still tangled in the mess of last night and everything that came with it.

The sound of the door opening broke my thoughts, and I looked up to find Wells standing in the doorway, looking slightly disheveled but somehow still effortlessly handsome. He raised an eyebrow when he saw me.

“Ready to head home?” he asked, his voice low and casual, as if last night hadn’t happened at all. It was both comforting and a little unnerving.

Home.

I blinked, caught off guard by his sudden presence. “I guess so.” I pushed myself off the couch, trying to ignore the nervous flutter that had settled in my stomach.

As I grabbed my purse, I couldn’t help but feel the weight of Wells’s presence in the room. It was easy to pretend everything was fine when I wasn’t around him, but when I was, it felt like everything was magnified. The little things, like the way he stood so close to me, the way he always seemed to know what I was thinking, the way his touch lingered in my mind long after it was gone.

“Rose,” Blythe’s voice cut through my thoughts, and I looked up to find her watching me carefully. “You okay?”

“Yep.” I gave her a tight smile. “I’ll see you guys soon.”

With one last knowing look with Blythe, we went outside.

Wells opened the passenger door for me, his gaze softening as he looked at me. “Let’s get you home.”

I slid into the truck, the warm leather of the seat feeling like a small comfort as Wells climbed in. The drive back to the farm was quiet, the only sound the hum of the engine and the occasional crackle of the radio. I couldn’t help but steal glances at Wells as he focused on the road ahead.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked after a few moments, his voice low.

I swallowed hard and nodded, though I wasn’t entirely sure. “Yeah. Just a little hungover.”

“At least you showered. I couldn’t borrow any of Charlie’s clothes. I feel gross.”

The corner of my mouth perked up. “You sweat buckets all day outside and step in goat shit and a night out is what makes you feel gross?”

Wells poked my thigh. “You can be quiet.”

I laughed, despite myself, and we fell into a comfortable silence, the tension from earlier easing as the miles between us and downtown Wippowa grew.

After a while, I sighed. “Sorry for asking you to stay in the nursery last night.”

He glanced over at me, his eyebrows raised, but said nothing, letting me continue.

“I’m embarrassed,” I admitted, my gaze dropping to my hands in my lap. “I mean, it wasn’t like anything happened, but… still.”

Wells looked over at me, his eyes gentle but with a hint of amusement. “I carried you up after you passed out on the couch. You asked me to stay. I told you I would take the couch and you insisted. Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

The quiet between us was suddenly comfortable, like we were in sync, even if I didn’t fully understand what that meant.

Then, before I could say anything else, Wells spoke again, this time with a seriousness that made me pause.

“You know,” he started, his voice low, “I’m glad we’re friends.”