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They were rocking gently now, and it felt nice. She didn’t let him go.
Chris stroked the hair away from her face again, lightly, gently, his fingers a bare touch on her cheekbone. “You turned the conversation away from yourself again.”
“I don’t want to talk about those guys. I’ve wasted enough time on them, and I’ll spend enough time talking about them tomorrow.”
He nodded, and she relaxed into his shoulder.
Then she lifted her head, finding his face close, his eyes shadowed and intent.
“What?” he said.
“Will you still go with me?”
“Yes.” He placed a hand against her cheek. “I promise.”
“Thanks, Chris.” She paused. “You’re a good friend.”
They almost-rocked for a little while, and she enjoyed the late September wind tickling across her cheeks.
Then Chris shifted her a little. “What about you and Hunter?”
She sighed. “I don’t know. He lied to me about so much—he won’t even tell me what was real—”
“So you’re not dating anymore?”
“No.” She lifted her head again, hearing disgust in her voice. “I don’t even know if we were dating to begin with. I mean, he—”
But she couldn’t finish that sentence.
Because Chris had her face in his hands, and he’d brought his lips to hers.
