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“Nice.” He repeated the word, eyeing her peculiarly. “Nothing more?”
“Don’t get me wrong, I had a wonderful time, and I do like you.”
“But?”
“But I just . . .”
“Nothing more,” he repeated.
“Right.” She sighed. “It’s nothing you did. It’s just me, I guess.”
He let out a sudden, abrupt laugh that startled her. “Are you giving me the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ line?”
“No. Well, yes. It’s true, though. You’re really nice, and you have a great personality, but—”
“That’s what they say about ugly people,” he deadpanned.
She rolled her eyes. “No, it isn’t. It’s true. And you’re not ugly. You’re handsome.” She felt the blush rise to her cheeks at the admission. “Very handsome.”
“So what is it?”
She glanced down at their still connected hands. “There’s no spark. No electricity. No lightning.”
Something flickered in his eyes then, his face softening as he let go of her hand. “Ah.”
“I’m really sorry,” she said.
“Don’t be,” he said. “No harm done.”
“Are you sure?”
He smiled genuinely. “Absolutely.”
“I did have fun, though,” she said. “I’m glad I went.”
“Me, too,” he said, taking a step back as he shoved his hands in his pocket. “I should be going. Have a good one.”
He walked away without another word, jogging across the street and disappearing into the darkness.
* * *
Monday came. Haven stepped out of her art building at precisely one o’clock and looked up to see Gavin leaning against the wall. They shared warm smiles and he strolled beside her to the library like usual, conversation flowing easy.
Wednesday he was there again, as he was on Friday. But the following week, when she walked out of her painting class, the sidewalk was vacant. For the first time in weeks . . . months . . . Gavin wasn’t there.
She waited for a few minutes, lingering along the side of the building, before making the journey alone.
Days passed, then weeks, with no sign of Gavin. What started as confusion quickly grew into frustration before finally morphing into concern. Had something happened to him? Was he okay?
One Friday afternoon, instead of heading to the library, she made the trek to the construction site. She stopped near the corner when she reached it, remaining on the old cracked sidewalk, her eyes scanning the property. They had made little progress from what she could tell, a few more levels of metal beams erected, but it was still no more than a fractured shell. Workers swarmed the grounds, a sea of yellow hard hats in the distance, bobbing and moving like rubber ducks in the water.
Her attention shifted to the trailer as the door flew open and Gavin appeared in the doorway. A group of guys greeted him when he stepped outside. He joined them, sipping on a bottle of water as he sat on the trailer steps, laughing.
Relief washed through her instantly before a tinge of hurt bubbled up. He appeared to be more than okay. Happy, even.
Haven stood there for a minute before turning away. She knew it then, could feel it in her gut, the concern and frustration fading right back to utter confusion. Their friendship was no more, tossed away haphazardly like it no longer meant anything . . . if it ever even did.
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