“I do.” I swallow hard. “We’re trying to be friends. We both want that. And it’s complicated because we’re navigating that while pretending to date. And that’s on top of actually being exes who still...”
I trail off, because that last part shouldn’t matter. It should be behind us.
“Who still what?” Rory’s voice is so small and quiet.
I should ignore the question. Leave it be. Because there are a lot of ways to end that thought, and they’re all dangerous.
We’re exes who still care about each other. Want each other. Even maybe love each other, although it’s not enough.
I curve over her. “Who still have really good chemistry.”
She nods slowly. “Yeah. That.”
We’re close enough that I can see the flecks of gold in her brown eyes. Close enough that it would be nothing to lean in and?—
“There you are,” Dante booms.
We jump apart, Rory spinning around and pressing her hands to her cheeks. Me staring up at the sky for a sobering second before nodding at her dad. “Yep. You need help with something?”
“Just came to count trees.”
“Eight,” Rory says quickly.
“Seven,” I correct. “Emma said her mom wanted one and they didn’t have one strapped to their car when they left. I’ll buy one for them and drop it off.”
“Oh, I can do that, son.” Dante claps me on the shoulder.
Rory mutters something about finding her sisters and practically sprints away.
I watch her go. Every moment of playing this role is both the best and worst kind of torture. I want her back in my arms, but I also don’t want to lie to her family.
She comes to a stop when she reaches her sisters.
Dante follows my gaze, and his expression softens. “It’s good to see them all together. Been a rough couple of days for Cassie.”
“Yeah.”
“Are you heading to the market with them?”
I scrub my hand over my jaw, thinking about the Bechdel Test—and the way I keep finding Rory in my arms. A bit of space this afternoon wouldn’t be bad. “No, I’m going to let them have sister time. I have presents to deliver to my cousins, anyway. So I can drop off the tree. You don’t need to do a final delivery.”
“I don’t mind.” Then he clears his throat. “You know, Carmen and I always thought you and Rory would be married by now.”
I rub the back of my neck. “It’s not, um…”
“If money is an issue?—”
My throat tightens. This is exactly the kind of conversation I need to avoid. “Dante?—”
“I’m not pushing,” he says quickly. “Just…we wouldn’t want that to be what stands between you kids and a…what does Jules call it? A happy ever after.”
What’s standing between Rory and a happy ever after is her job, but I can’t tell that to her dad.
“It’s definitely complicated,” I manage. “But we’re okay for money.”
“All right. Well, grab a tree for Emma and put it in the back of the truck. If you’re going out, you might as well drop it off. I’ll get their address for you.”
I find the biggest remaining tree and heft it over my shoulder.
