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“Yes?”
I couldn’t help the slow grin that spread across my face. It was a side effect of the lightness inside me. A lightness that, these days, only she seemed to be able to tap into.
“I’m glad you stopped by.”
Chapter Seventeen
Monroe
“Two Saturdays in a row,” Nate said as he slid into Gram’s car and reached for his seat belt. He’d had the quickest shower ever and reappeared in less than ten minutes, wearing a pair of faded jeans, beat-up brown boots, and a steel-blue, long-sleeved Henley.
He looked way too good, and my heart started beating a mile a minute as soon as I saw him.
I’m sure he heard it, which was why I turned without saying anything and bolted for the car. I managed a wave at his mom and dad, but I’m sure they thought I was a complete idiot.
“Monroe?”
“What?” I glanced at him, and an
ything else I was going to say kind of froze in my throat.
His hair was damp and hung to the top of his shoulders in tangled waves that told me he hadn’t taken the time to comb them properly. He tilted his head to the side a little, a half smile on his face, and ba-boom, there went my heart again.
My hands clutched the steering wheel as if it was a lifeline, but I kept picturing them trailing across the stubble on his chin, and even though I’d told myself I wouldn’t go there again, I thought of the kiss we’d shared. I swear I could close my eyes and feel his lips on mine.
“Are you okay?”
I glanced at him. Took a few moments. And then I was able to speak. “Yep.” I nodded and put the car in reverse. “Perfect. Right as rain.”
Oh God. I was rambling. This wasn’t good.
I pulled out onto the road and headed toward town. The sun was just starting to descend, and the horizon was filled with red-gold rays. I had the windows down and smelled a hint of rain in the air. And though it was still hot and sticky, I was cold.
And nervous.
So. Freaking. Nervous.
“So where are we going?”
Shit.
“To town.”
“To do what?”
“Hang out.”
“Hang out where?”
I had a death grip on the wheel by now. “What’s with all the questions?”
I felt his gaze on me but refused to look at him. I concentrated on the road and didn’t even protest when he changed the radio station. I was driving, so technically the music choice was my call, but hey, he could knock himself out because I had other things on my mind.
What was I doing? I knew he was going to hate the Coffee House. I knew the idea was a bad one. I knew this and yet…
I wanted to see him.
Unease settled in my gut, and I felt my cheeks heat again. This must be some kind of record.
