I waved goodbye to my dad, reminded him not to wait up, and ducked out.
He opened the car door for me.
Because of course he did. Like we were on theBachelorand he’d been trained in old-school chivalry instead of grown in a petri dish by Hollywood stylists and PR handlers. He even reached over to fasten my seatbelt, like hehadn'tabsolutely already gotten to second base in a pool at a cast party.
The car was quiet, except for the soft hum of the engine and the occasional flick of the turn signal. I watched the lights pass overhead, casting stripes of gold and shadow across Ansel’s face.
He hadn’t said much since I got in.
He hadn’t touched me either.
Not even a hand on the small of my back, like he’d done before. No teasing smirk, no heat. Just this quiet, brittle sort of patience. Like he was afraid I’d shatter if he pushed too hard.
I hated how much I wanted him to push.
“How was set?” I asked mostly just to fill the silence.
He glanced over, mouth tugging into something half a smile. “Long. Boring. Hot.”
“Oh,” I said. “I guess that’s?—”
“I kept thinking about you,” he cut in, quiet. “All day.”
I swallowed. Hard.
“That’s not fair,” I whispered, turning my face back toward the window.
“I know,” he said. He didn’t push it. Just let it sit there between us, like a lit match on the seat.
We pulled up in front of the rental house a few minutes later. He parked, but neither of us moved. “I can drive you home later,” he said. “If you want to just talk.”
I turned to look at him.
His eyes were steady. Open. A little wrecked around the edges.
“I just want to talk.”
He cut the car off with a nod, quickly coming around to my side of the door. He offered a hand and a smile. “Okay, let’s talk.”
CHAPTER 26
She stepped over the threshold like she was afraid of taking up too much space. Careful. Quiet. As if this was someone else’s house instead of mine — instead of a rental I’d deep-cleaned in a panic, like disinfecting countertops could make me less of a disaster.
Juniper didn’t look at me at first. Just shrugged out of her jacket and folded it neatly over the back of a chair. I watched her the whole time, completely useless, heart thudding in my chest like I was seventeen and about to make out with my first girlfriend.
I didn’t touch her.
Not yet.
“I, uh…” I scratched the back of my neck. “Didn’t know what you liked, so I got a few things.”
She turned then, brows lifted. “A few things?”
There was a spread laid out on the kitchen counter — charcuterie stuff, takeout containers, a pint of vegan ice cream I wasn’t sure she even liked but had bought anyway because it saidplant-basedon the label.
Was she even vegan?
I'd made it look effortless. Like I wasn’t trying. Like I didn’t googleeasy food that doesn’t scream I’m in love with you.
