6
The rest of the date goes off without a hitch.
Trey’s easy to talk to, and I even manage to laugh a few times. Real ones, not just the nervous kind I’ve been faking all night. We swap stories about high school, bad bosses, and the weirdest things we’ve eaten at county fairs. I enjoy myself.
For the most part.
But every now and then when Trey’s looking at the menu, or laughing at something I’ve said my gaze drifts across the room.
To him.
Will doesn’t look once.
Not even a flicker.
He’s gone full ghost mode. One hundred percent ignoring me like it’s his job. Like I’m just another face in a sea of regulars, not the girl he kissed against a wall less than an hour ago. Not the girl who knows exactly what his mouth tastes like and how he sounds when he lets his guard slip.
He even sends someone else to bring our next round of beers, like the act of approaching the table himself might physically hurt him.
And somehow, that hurts more than if he’d glared.
Around eleven, Trey yawns, his hand covering it politely. “Sorry. Long day at work.”
I smile, grateful for the out. “I feel that. I was out at the ranch helping tag calves this morning.”
He tilts his head, that boyish smile tugging at his mouth. “So the perfect girl does exist.”
I roll my eyes.
“Want to call it a night?” he asks. “I can walk you back to your place.”
“That would be nice,” I say, grabbing my bag.
We stand, and he tosses some cash on the table for a tip that’s more than fair. Then he reaches for my hand again, fingers lacing easily through mine.
We step out into the night.
Cool air greets us, sharp and fresh after the warmth of the bar. The noise fades behind us as we walk, hand in hand, down the quiet sidewalk. But even as the stars stretch wide above us, and Trey hums something low and familiar, part of me is still inside Flowers End. Still standing in front of Will. Still wondering if he even felt it.
By the time we reach my apartment above Knot and Spur, the town has gone mostly quiet. Porch lights glow soft across the street, and the cicadas are humming just loud enough to fill the silence between us.
Trey walks me to the bottom of the stairs and follows me halfway up, still holding my hand like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“This was nice,” he says, pausing at the landing.
“It was,” I reply, meaning it even if my heart’s still somewhere between the bar and the past I can’t seem to shake.
He looks at me like he’s weighing something, then tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “You’ve changed, you know. In a good way. I like it.”
I smile softly. “Thanks.”
“I’d really like to see you again.”
I hesitate. Not because I don’t like him. I do. He’s kind, and easy to be around, and everything that makes sense. But sense doesn’t always set your skin on fire.
“I’d like that,” I say, and I mean it enough for tonight.
He leans in then, kissing me gently. It’s sweet. And safe.
