The pressure of her hand on my chest increased. It was a question, a chance for me to do the right thing. To do what I wanted and not give a shit about anyone else for a change.
“I’m not running,” I said. “I’m keeping something from breaking.”
She tilted her head. The patience in her eyes was replaced with solid steel. “So you’d rather lose me than disappoint them.”
That landed where nothing else had… deep in my chest… in a spot that had never been anyone else’s business. I had an answer, and it was ugly. “I’d rather not lose both,” I said. “But that doesn’t seem like an option.”
She stepped back like I’d reached out and slapped her. “Do you know what I hear when you say that? I hear you choosing fear and calling it loyalty.”
I dragged a hand over my jaw. “This isn’t fear.”
“It is. You’re afraid of pissing off my brothers, and you’d rather let me go instead.”
“You don’t understand. They were there for me when no one else was.” My words came out low and rough. I didn’t like talking about the past, but she needed to understand. “You were still in elementary school the year my mom left, and my old man went off the rails. Thatcher stayed over every night, and we took turns taking care of my dad. Holt learned how to run the register at the store, so it didn’t go under. I won’t ever forget that.”
Her face softened. “I’m not asking you to forget it. I’m asking you to stop using it as a reason not to live your life.”
“Living my life with you would make me dead to them.”
“They might surprise you. Being together could give you a better life than trying to hide behind rules you made when you were only a kid.” She hugged her arms to her chest. “I’m not asking for you to go public with me yet. I’m just asking you to stand next to me when I walk into your store. I’m asking you to not step away like I might burn you.”
“I don’t step away because I’m afraid you’ll hurt me,” I said. “I step away because being around you and not being able to touch you like I want to is killing me inside.”
Her mouth parted. I hated and loved the way she looked at me then. Like I’d said something true by accident.
She smoothed her hand over a stack of papers sitting on the table. Her voice came out strong and steady. “Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to keep planning this event. I’m going to keep coming into your shop. I’m going to keep kissing you if you let me, and I’m going to stop if you tell me to stop. I’m not going to be your secret. Not for long. I deserve more than that and you know it.”
I stared at the map behind her to keep myself from fixating on her mouth. “I can’t give you anything right now.”
The room felt too small. I could hear my own pulse in my ears and the ugly part of me that always knew how to end a fight told me to get loud, to scare her back a step, to make her think it was easier to leave than stay.
I didn’t. I put my hands on the edge of the table and leaned on them until the wood creaked out a complaint.
Outside, someone laughed on the sidewalk. A car door slammed. The world kept doing what it always did while mine narrowed to the woman in front of me and the line I couldn’t make myself cross.
“You deserve better than me,” I finally said.
She smiled. It was small and meant to cut me to the bone. “You’re right. I deserve a man who won’t try to hide me or downplay what we have. But let me worry about that for now.”
I let go of the table. “The gossip’s not going to stop.”
“I don’t need it to.”
“Your brothers?—”
“Aren’t the ones you’re kissing.” She took a breath and lifted her chin. “We’ll tell them on our terms. When you say you’re ready. Not because someone hiding behind a screen name thinks they get to write our ending.”
There was a world where I could have said yes. This wasn’t it. “I can’t promise you that,” I said.
“Then don’t promise me anything.” She picked up the stack of papers, her shoulders sagging, her voice resigned. “Just let me do my job.”
I stepped out of her way. She brushed past me, all heat and stubborn sunshine, and I felt the ghost of her shoulder for a long time after the door clicked behind her.
I stood in that loud quiet until my breath came back. Then I went outside and looked up and down Main like answers might be hiding in the shade of the awnings. Nellie swept the sidewalk in front of the cafe. Two high school kids walked by sharing a milkshake and a phone, laughing at something on the screen. The mountains looked the same as they always had, but I’d never felt further from steady ground.
Back at the shop, I put the stuff Dane dropped off away, then realized I’d put it in the wrong spot and moved it again. Bubbles followed me from aisle to aisle, his nails clicking on the hardwood floor like he knew something wasn’t right and didn’t know how to help. Hell, I didn’t know how to make things better either.
I adjusted the new display Jessa set up in front, the one that made the window look like it belonged to a store people might actually walk into on purpose. My hands wouldn’t stop trying to straighten a lantern that wasn’t even crooked.
