“Thanks for coming.” He pauses for a bit. “So, um. Danielle’s leaving soon, right?”
I nod. “She is.”
He takes a breath. “You know. You could stay. At home. With me?”
I turn to him slowly. He keeps his eyes on the road.
“I don’t want to pressure you,” he says quickly. “I just… I want you to know I’m in this. With you. However you want to do it. Whatever speed you need. I’m not going anywhere.” The words hit me like sunlight after a storm. I feel them land in all the tender places. I wasn’t expecting it.
“You don’t have to say anything yet,” he adds. “I just needed you toknow.” I don’t say anything. I can’t. My throat is thick with something I can’t name. I’m afraid if I speak now I might cry. I slide my fingers through his. The silence between us is not empty, it’s full of something unspoken.
When we pull into the driveway, he kills the engine and turns to me.
“I meant it,” he says. “You can stay. For as long as you want.”
I nod. “Okay, I’ll think about it. My dad will be back soon Lucas. I don’t know what to do. I’ll talk to him.”
“Just think about it and let me know.” We go inside, silence filling the space.
We go through the motions of getting ready for bed, me in his bed just like every night this week. His arms come around me like they’ve always belonged there.
As I close my eyes, my heart thuds hard in my chest—not from fear, but from the terrifying beauty of what this could be.
I want to give this a go. With him.
I think I might even be in love with him.
But I’ve been hurt and I’m still healing.
So I keep the words inside, press my face into his chest, and let the night take me.
Conflicted. Loved. Home.
47
I have an idea
We wake up the next morning in each other’s arms again, a heavy feeling lingering between us.
I’m torn about what to do with my living situation.
I want to stay, live here for good.
Part of me worries if it’s too soon.
But I’m already here, so what difference would it make really?
What am I so darn afraid of? Why can’t I just do what I want, instead of worrying so much? Why do I care what anyone else thinks?
Instead of spiraling over that decision, I bring up the other one—the one I meant to ask him about yesterday. BuyingSnips. It’s something I’d really love Lucas’s opinion on.
“So… I need your advice.” I say. “My boss is selling the salon.” He waits quietly, eyes on me, encouraging me to continue.
“She offered it to me first. I have until the end of the month to decide if I want it before she puts it on the market. I don’t know what to do. Running my own business has always been a dream, but I’m not sure if Snips is the right fit.”
“How much is she selling it for? And what don’t you like about it?”
“Ten thousand. It’s actually a great price for what she’s offering, but I’d want to refit it, change the colour range, maybe even the layout. And I really don’t like the name. Even the location—I’m unsure about it.” I let out a deep breath.
