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I study the woman Avery brought for a moment as she’s the only one who seems to be ignoring the awkwardness, in exchange for pleasant curiosity as she looks around. It’s clear, Avery may not have filled her in on this little rift in the harmony.
Hanson decides an attempt at breaking the tension, telling some sort of god awful joke about a woman and her blind dog.
Drew and Hawk break away from the island in the kitchen where we’ve all been congregating, and they walk toward the sliding door that leads to the patio. The group begins to slowly migrate with them, Avery leading Helena out by her hand. Hanson, the perpetual bachelor, follows behind.
I turn, ready to do the same, when suddenly I feel a hand on my wrist, stopping me. I reflexively snap my head back.
Derek’s grip is firm but gentle. “Can I have one more moment of your time?” he asks, his crystal blues pleading, brow furrowed in what I can only describe as somber, perhaps slightly pained.
“All right,” I say, letting him lead me toward the back end of the house.
He walks to the second door on the left and opens it, letting me step inside.
When I realize we’re in his bedroom, my stomach does a little somersault, and I feel like I may throw up the butterflies I’ve always had for him.
“Willette…” he starts, then pauses. “Willette, I don’t know what to say. Not really, anyway. I have a lot to say but maybe it’s that I don’t know where to start.”
I study his face, calmly sitting on the edge of his bed and gesturing to him to sit as well. “Start wherever you think you need to.”
“Right,” he says. Another long pause passes as he chews his bottom lip between his teeth. “Well, I miss you. That seems to be about the one thing I know for certain.”
“I’ve missed you as well,” I admit. Although, I would think it was pretty obvious.
“And I don’t like this. I was enjoying…us.”
“So was I,” I say.
“But I don’t want to disappoint you,” he says. “I’ve never been in love. I don’t know what to do about how you feel, about what you hope for.”
“Hope doesn’t have to be the death of a thing,” I say. “It’s nothing more than positive thoughts. And I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.”
“What if I don’t fall in love with you?” he asks.
The question stings more than it should. I understand what he’s saying, just as I did before we discussed it.
“I suppose we’d have to have a discussion, should you ever come to that conclusion.”
Derek runs his hands over his face, pressing his palms against his eye sockets. I can tell he’s deep in thought, perhaps apprehension. But then a grin spreads across his lips.
“What if,” he begins, “I say…I hope I fall in love with you?”
I blink rapidly at him, speechless.
“Would that be okay?” he asks. “For now, I mean?”
“Yes,” I say, my throat constricting at the very idea. “I think that would be all right.”
“So,” he says, turning toward me. “We can just be two people who are hoping to fall mutually in love?” His hand grazes my jawline, the feel of his fingertips sending electricity down my spine, and I shiver.
“Um,” I say, without being able to manage anything else.
He moves closer, his lips mere inches from mine. “And I can still take you on bookstore dates?”
“Well…”
His thumb grazes my bottom lip, desire brewing in his eyes. “And we can cuddle?”
My breath catches. I can no longer provide simple, one-word responses.
