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Remy nodded. “Ever since you came home. Maybe that’s my subconscious doing that.”
“Or maybe it’s something more?” he pressed.
She shrugged and took a big bite of her food, obviously not intending on answering.
He followed her lead and ate for a while, but then curiosity got the better of him. “What does my mom say to you in the dreams?”
Remy finished chewing and wiped her face with a napkin. “It’s always the same dream. I’m sitting in the hospital with you. You’ve got your head bowed and you’re crying.” Probably much like he had been when his mother passed away. “But she suddenly sits up and looks right at me. And she says, ‘Don’t let him run.’”
Asher glanced away and stared at his boots pressed against the cement, the only thing keeping him grounded at the moment. His chest was so damn tight he could barely get air in. He forced his voice to work. “That’s it?”
“That’s it,” Remy said, turning her attention back to her meal.
Asher ate three more bites, then suddenly he wondered if maybe it was Remy’s subconscious, worried about what might happen again because it happened before. He couldn’t let that slide anymore. “Next time, if you see Mom, tell her that I’m not running, all right? Not anymore.”
Remy glanced up, wide-eyed. “Okay,” she finally said. “I’ll do that.”
“Thank you.” He took another bite of his chicken, savoring the spicy kick on his tongue.
They finished their meal in silence, and only when he stopped chewing did he realize there was music coming from the greenhouse. A slow rock song that he recalled that he’d danced with Remy at prom. With his mother on his mind, and that fact that he had run from himself and Remy for a very long time, he set his empty container down, rose, and offered her his hand. “Dance with me?”
“Seriously?” she asked with a laugh.
“Seriously. Friends can dance, you know.” In truth, he expected her to shoot him down. She’d set boundaries, but she glanced at his outreached hand and rose. He tugged her into him, gathering her in his arms. For a minute she was stiff, keeping a distance, but then suddenly she stepped closer, her entire body going soft. Her head pressed against his chest, and he rested his cheek on the top of her head. Right there, that’s where he wanted her. Safe. Happy. “I should have done this with you more often.”
“Danced with me?” she asked, keeping her head in place.
“Danced with you,” he said, pressing his lips to the top of her head.
* * *
Dancing with Asher on her rooftop garden stayed with her, even an hour and a half later as they arrived at Rhett’s house after a call saying the gang was getting together for an impromptu campfire. Asher had never treated her as tenderly as he had as they’d danced. She couldn’t help thinking about how much he had changed in the
last ten years. Every minute she spent with him, he kept surprising her.
Remy exited Asher’s Camaro and followed him down the driveway. Rhett had bought the property from his father when his parents moved to Pennsylvania for work. The house itself wasn’t much to look at. A tiny bungalow with only two bedrooms, small kitchen, and living room, but Rhett’s mother had made the house warm and cozy, and Rhett hadn’t changed the place much since they’d moved. The beauty of this home was its location. Right on the Atlantic Ocean, the house itself sat up on the top of the cliff, while stairs had been built on the side leading down to the cove, with a sandy beach hugging the water.
Remy carefully followed Asher down the steep steps that had lanterns lighting them up, having nearly killed herself while drunk on these stairs many times. Rhett’s parties back in high school were legendary. His parents were definitely the coolest of the bunch, and didn’t mind the kids partying at their place on the weekends.
Halfway down the stairs, Remy spotted Peyton sitting between Boone’s legs near the bright campfire. Kinsley sat next to them, with Rhett sitting on a tree stump across from her.
“You made it,” Kinsley said, and jumped up. She hurried over as quickly as she could in the sand and threw her arms around Remy. “How’s the plant doing?”
Remy sighed. “Not any better. Got any beer?” Today felt long and exhausting, and a cold beer sounded right up her alley.
“I got ’em here,” Boone called, and opened the cooler next to him, taking out two beers.
Asher accepted a bottle, then took his seat next to Rhett. When Remy took her beer, Kinsley snatched her hand, pulling her down next to her to sit on a hollowed-out log. She smiled at Peyton. “Hi.”
“Hey.” Peyton wiggled her eyebrows. “Kinsley was just telling me that this was what you all did for fun growing up?”
“Hells yeah, it was,” Kinsley said. “It’s not like we had Merlots club back in the day. You had to make your own fun. We had some killer parties here.”
“The only bar we did have was a complete shithole,” Rhett said.
Kinsley smiled at him. “Which, of course, now that is not the case.”
Rhett inclined his head in agreement, then took a swig of his beer.
