I pulled on my coat and gloves and held the door for Deacon. I gave Ro a parting smile but she was already serving a customer, so I closed the door to keep the chill out.
Deacon stood there, waiting.
I nodded toward the river at the end of the short road. “Shall we go this way?” He fell into step beside me. “I’ve never really seen the river,” I said. “I mean, I know it’s there. I can hear it, and I park my car behind the store, so I’ve technically seen it. But I’ve never taken much notice.”
“In summer, it’s good for fishing. And swimming, but further south. Not so much here. They used to swim down along Ponderosa Road, but it was too dangerous.”
“Dangerous?”
He nodded. “A boy fell in a few Christmases ago. At the Christmas festival. They close off the street and there’s food and craft stalls and a mini train ride for the kids. The firetruck comes down. It’s one of my favorite nights of the year. The whole town comes to it, and two Christmases ago, a small boy fell in. Deputy Price jumped in and saved him.”
“Oh my goodness. Were they okay?”
“Yes.”
We got to the edge of the river. There were trees and a path where I’d seen people walking dogs that ran adjacent to Main Street behind the shops. But the incline down was almost a gorge, the steep rocky sides looked dark and dangerous, the water deep and freezing. Ice and snow clung to the edges, the water moving fast.
I pointed down to it, horrified. “He fell in there?”
Deacon pointed further down. “Down near the big Christmas tree. It’s not as steep.” He held the cup tray out. “Hot chocolate?”
“Oh yes, please.” I took one, and between the two of us, we divided the sandwiches. I bit into mine, warm and gooey and delicious. “So, your dad said you were distracted at work today?”
“Yes. But insufferable and not entirely useful were the words he used,” he said, and I couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Distracted sounds better.”
He sipped his hot chocolate. “I was nervous and excited about seeing you today, and I kept watching the clock. I couldn’t concentrate very well. He normally keeps me busy because he knows I get like this.” He winced. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.”
“If I know I have something coming up, I fixate...” He made a face that was sorry and sad. “And I know saying things like that out loud makes some people uncomfortable.”
“Not me,” I said, giving him a smile. “If you feel it, you can tell me. I like that you talk about it. It’s better than hiding it. Some guys never talk about feelings and that’s way worse.”
He glanced at me but quickly looked back to the river. “Do you talk to other guys... about this stuff?”
I bit into my sandwich and shook my head as Iswallowed. “Nope. I have dated other guys back in my hometown. But they never lasted very long. And they never talked about how they felt until it wasn’t worth talking about.”
“Because you’re asexual?”
“Yes. In a nutshell, that’s what it always came down to.” I sighed but smiled when he looked at me. “I am who I am, and I’m comfortable with that. If they don’t like that, then I’m not the person for them.”
He smiled at the river as he ate the last of his sandwich, his nose and cheeks the color of cherry blossoms. “I am who I am too. I know what people say about me. My dad says my brain is just wired different from other people, but that doesn’t mean I’m any less of a person.”
“You’re absolutely not any less a person, Deacon. I happen to like you exactly the way you are.”
His blush deepened. “I like you too.” His eyes met mine then, and the intensity was a fire burning into me. “I feel all jittery when I think about you and I can’t concentrate, like my synapses aren’t firing. I’ve been sending you quotes of poetry because you said you like them and I don’t really know how else to tell you without getting it wrong, or overwhelming... it’s a lot, inside my head...”
I couldn’t help but smile, even though he looked about ready to bolt. I lifted my hand slowly, and not touching him exactly, I held the front of his coat. “Hey,” I whispered. He kept his eyes cast downward and to the side, but he didn’t pull away. “I feel all jittery when I think of you too. And your poetry every morning at eight o’clock sharp has been the absolute highlight of my day.”
His eyes met mine then. “It has?”
I nodded. “Absolutely. And it’s funny that you said you’ve been trying not to overwhelm me because I’ve been trying not to overwhelm you either. I thought maybe if weonly saw each other for short periods of time, like a lunch break, that we’d get used to each other in small steps, you know?”
He nodded quickly.
“And our jobs have kept us busy this week, so it worked out well.”
