Nan hollered from inside. “Who is it?”
“It’s Scott.” I could hear the giggles. We couldn’t stay here. “Let me grab my phone and jacket.” I closed the door, leaving him on the porch. There was no way I was having him inside the house right now. Who knew what they would ask?
“Did you leave him on the porch?” Faith sounded disappointed.
“That was rude, Marissa.” Nan stood to let him in.
“We are heading to lunch, and I know if he came in, you guys would bombard him with questions. It would've been ruder to let him in.” I rushed over and grabbed my jacket. “Bye.”
“Don’t forget . . .” Rose hollered.
I opened the door to find Scott standing a few feet away. I could see the confusion in his eyes at being left on the porch.
“Sorry, there is a lot of wedding planning going on in there. I didn’t want you to get roped into it.”
Scott’s eyes widened, and he looked at my hand. Was he wondering if he accidentally proposed? I held up my hands. “It’s for Nan.” I chuckled.
“Oh, right.” He sounded relieved.
What does that mean? He doesn’t want to marry me. Or he’s just surprised?
“Does Nan need your help? I hate to take you away if you’re needed here.” Scott walked beside me as I headed toward his car.
“Nope. I’m good. Besides, I’m starving.” I wasn’t hungry. I had been snacking all day. But I needed to get away from the questions I wasn’t ready to face.
Scott reached over and grabbed my hand in his. Electricity shot up my arm. I reminded myself to breathe. This relationship was temporary. He swung his car door open and held it for me.
“Where to?” he asked as he climbed into the driver’s seat.
He began rubbing little circles on the back of my hand. My body kept forgetting the idea thatScott and I togetherwas temporary. Was this desire to always be with him going to destroy me? I couldn’t allow this to grow into something more than it was. But what was it? Just fun? Or something else? I told my heart to get back in its cage, and I locked the door to keep it from trying to burst. Scott put his car into drive, and we started down the street.
“Hey,” Scott’s voice was low and laced with concern. “You okay?”
I shook my head and replaced my concern with a smile. “Yep. I’m good. Let’s go to Merritt’s.”
Scott shook his head. “No, don’t do that with me.” He pulled over and put the car in park. He turned to face me.
“Don’t do what with you?”
What was he talking about?
“What you do with everyone else.” He dipped his head to look at my eyes. “You feel something other than happiness and you push it down, smile, and change the subject.”
I looked down at my hands. I hadn’t realized that he had recognized that about me.
“You don’t have to be happy all the time, Marissa.” He reached over and moved my hair out of my face. “I would rather you be real.” He reached over and tipped my head to look at him. “You don’t have to pretend with me.” His eyes were earnest.
I glanced at his face. His eyes were soft, and he brushed his thumb across my cheek. “Don’t pretend. Be real with me,” he repeated in a whisper.
“I’m not used to talking about actual emotions. I might not be good at it. What if you don’t like the real me?” What if I don’t know if I like the real me? Do I even know the real me?
One corner of his mouth lifted. “You know what they say about practice.” Scott tipped his head to the side. “I think we will both love the real you if you give us a chance.”
Had he meant the L word . . . he didn’t take it back or fluster over it. The pause stretched, full of pressure. Fall or run? It was time to choose.
“Let’s try again.” He picked up my hand and brought it to his lips. “What were you thinking about before?”
“Are you sure?” I could barely push out the words.
