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“I promise,” she said.
“Good.”
And she wondered if that was all the discussing they were going to do. She wondered what all this would change. If she would move into his bedroom.
If...
“Hey, look, we can talk later. For now, let’s just drive back to the house and get dressed for the day.”
She nodded. “Okay. I mean, we could just wear the clothes we had on.”
“We could. But I need coffee. And that’s the real reason I need to head back.”
“Okay.”
They got into his truck and went back to the house, and she felt...overcome by his presence.
She looked at him as he drove, at the strong column of his throat, the broad set of his shoulders, the way his large, muscular hands gripped the wheel. “Remember one time you went to Copper Ridge? With some of the other guys? And when you came back, you had a bag of saltwater taffy. And you gave it to me?”
He looked at her and frowned. “No.”
“Do you really not remember, or are you being mean?”
“I don’t have it in me to be mean right now, Alaina. I don’t remember.”
“What you did. And it was right after my dad left, and it was the nicest thing... It meant a lot to me. And it made me feel like someone was still looking out for me. And... I just... Thank you. I...”
“We don’t have to talk.”
“But I feel things. And I want to say them.”
“Alternatively, you could sit with those feelings.”
“No,” she said. “That’sboring. And I hate it.”
“Is it boring, or does it make you uncomfortable?”
“What difference does it make?”
He stretched his hand across the distance and rested it on the back of her neck. And instantly, she felt quieted. More settled. But there was fear in her heart. Because something had changed between the two of them, and she was afraid that it would change back. That this moment would vanish like it had never happened. And at the same time, she was also afraid of the change. And where it might lead.
She wanted to go back to the bubble. Where they had been in bed together. And it had felt simple. Nothing but them and their desire and that mattress.
That blanket.
“Steady on, mite. You don’t need to solve all the problems now.”
“When will we solve them then?”
“Maybe not in this lifetime.”
“And you’re just...okay with that?”
He took a deep, heavy breath. “Here’s the thing. I’m okay. After getting nearly burned alive, I’m not in pain anymore. But you can still tell it happened, can’t you?”
“Well. Yes.”
“You can’t fix it. It doesn’t rub off. It doesn’t go away. There’s a measure of it that not even time sorts out. My face is kind of an object lesson. I stopped expecting things to just feel right a long time ago. Some things are messed up forever.”
