“You heard me.”
“I heard you, but I don’t think I can believe what I heard.”
Zoe sniffed and nodded. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I don’t know what he’ll think of me. It was so...not like me. And he’s going to think that’s just how I am.”
Courtney snorted. “No, he’s not.”
“Yes, he is. I mean, what would you think if some guy just came up and kissed you? You’d think he was forward, or drunk, or on drugs.”
“I would not think any of those things, especially if the kisser was you.”
“What does that mean?”
“He’s lived below you for what, like a year? He knows what kind of person you are.”
“But—” she sputtered.
“He knows that you aren’t a drunk, or a druggie, or a random kisser.”
“Then why did I just randomly kiss him?”
“Because you think he’s cute and sweet, and even if he wasn’t rescuing you, he was rescuing someone, and that makes him a hero.”
“A hero.” Zoe thought about this.
“You need to tell him you like him.”
“I can’t do that.”
“You just did. When you kissed him.” Courtney took a deep breath before adding, “And now you need to tell him with words.”
#
AFTER ETHAN PUT MISTYto bed—something he hoped to only have to do once in his life—he returned home and found Zoe sitting on their front porch, clutching a Mason jar.
“What’s this?” he asked.
Zoe stood and held out the jar. “A thank-you token for being a hero.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Ethan said, but he took the jar anyway. “Are these cookies?” he asked hopefully.
“Lavender with lemon zest. I love them. I hope you will too.”
“Want to share?”
“Tonight?” Her voice squeaked with surprise.
“We could sit and watch the stars.” He dropped down on the step she’d just vacated.
“Okay,” she said in a small voice, joining him.
“I have a favor to ask,” he said, nerves hitching his voice.
“Yeah?”
“The gallery has an annual holiday party. Would you like to go with me?”
“Sure.”
