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My heart does a cartwheel.
“I’m beyond honored. And I didn’t know you had a motorcycle.” Now I’m dying to see him in his tight black T-shirt, tanned, muscular arms stretched to the handlebars, while straddling a rumbling Harley.
“Years ago. I sold it to buy Brianna’s engagement and wedding rings.”
“Oh.”
He pushes his hand through his hair and straightens his eye patch—a sure signal he’s going to say something that bothers him. “She was buried with them on. She never took them off. Sometimes I wonder…maybe I should’ve kept them… given them to Lily.”
I suddenly feel light-headed. Hunting for the window control button on the door, I press it and lower the window a few inches, turning my face toward the cool air. The ruby ring burns my finger beneath the thin band. I gently turn it, wondering if soap got trapped under it when I washed my hands earlier.
“No,” I reply, ignoring the twitch in my temple. “I think Brianna would want to wear her rings for eternity. That’s what I’d want.”
I’ve never felt any jealousy when Alex talks to me about Brianna, which he’s been doing since I was a little girl. In fact, I’ve always felt quite the opposite. Despite my initial visceral reaction to hearing tidbits about her and their life together, I always longed to hear more, to immerse myself in every detail of Alex’s memories and etch them into my soul. The craving for more of those cherished moments is usually so strong that it’s like going through withdrawals—exactly how I’m feeling right now.
I realize all this could very well classify me as a stalker or a person obsessed, which is why I stopped telling Dr. Sloane about these feelings a long time ago.
“Kelley keeps telling me it’s time to take my wedding ring off,” he continues. “He says I use it as a barrier to keep women away.”
“And yet here you are, with a woman.”
“You don’t count.”
I turn to face him. The seat belt digs into the side of my neck. “Excuse me? Am I an ogre or something? Why don’t I count?”
“Because we’re friends.”
My eyes mist with tears as I turn to stare blankly out the window. Did I totally misread the signs? He kissed my nose. He told me I rattled his heart. He chose to share his first venture back into the real world behind the wheel with me.
His low voice drags me away from my thoughts. “I have to keep telling myself that, Penny. If I don’t, I start feeling like a scumbag.”
I hate that word. It’s vile and doesn’t fit him or our relationship at all. I understand why he thinks he should label himself that way, but I don’t want him convincing himself that we can only ever be friends.
“Don’t call yourself that. You’re not a scumbag in any way.”
His fingers tighten on the leather steering wheel. “I know that voice. You’re upset.”
“I’m not.” It’s half true. “I’m just not sure what to think. Or what you think. About us.”
“I know, and that’s my fault ’cause I’m confused.”
“I don’t want either one of us to be confused. Especially about each other.”
“Not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’m trying to make some changes and make myself and my life better. I need to do that before I can do anything else.”
“I definitely notice everything, Fox.” Every detail. Even the cologne he’s wearing. “I guess I just want to know in what way I fit into it.”
He reaches over and squeezes my hand. The burning in my finger dissipates. “You fit in ways I never expected. I just need a little time to get my head straight about that.”
Squeezing his hand back, I nod. “Okay,” I say softly.
Alex looks relieved to be out of the car when we arrive at the ice cream parlor. The remodeled trolley car is nestled on the side of the road, surrounded by trees. The inside is small but adorably decorated with a vintage theme.
“I want what you’re having,” I tell him, eyeing the vast menu posted on the wall. “I need to see what your favorite sundae is.”
“You’ll love it,” he says, then turns to the girl behind the counter. “We’ll get two Dusty Roads. We’re going to sit outside.”
“Sure thing,” she replies. “I’ll bring your order out.”
“That’s what it’s called?” I ask as we sit at a picnic table out front. “A Dusty Road?”
“Yup.” The wind blows the hair away from his face as he gazes quietly at the few cars that drive by. He takes a deep breath of the breeze, and I’m sure I can see him slowly coming to life.
“What?” he asks when he catches me smiling at him.
“It’s just so nice to be out with you. You look happy.”
“I think the word you’re looking for is nervous.”
“Nervous?” I repeat. “Why? You did great driving.”
