“It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours. Can we have at least that long before the postmortem?” I’d meant it as a joke, but it fell flat.
“Postmortem makes it sound like something died.”
“Didn’t it?” I turned to look at him. “Our friendship, maybe?”
His knuckles went white on the steering wheel. “Is that what you think?”
“I don’t know what I think.”
“Well, I do.” He glanced at me. “I think we’ve been dancing around this for years. I think you feel it too. And I think you’re scared because if we try this and it doesn’t work, you lose me.”
My chest tightened. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what? Tell the truth?”
“Don’t make me talk about this when I can barely think straight.”
“Come on, Saff. The texts…”
My pulse hammered, and I wished I could plug my ears.
“I meant what I said. All of it.”
“I know.”
“But I won’t push. You need time. I can give you that.”
“Thank you,” I whispered.
He drove through the gates of his family’s property, and I let myself breathe again, knowing that, soon, we’d be around other people, unable to talk about time or kissing or being afraid.
Cru was waiting near the Gamay block. “Morning, Saffron,” he said, hugging me. “Thanks for dragging yourself out here before the sun’s even all the way up.”
“Are you kidding? This is the most exciting thing I’ve done in years.” How sad was it that what I’d said as a joke was actually true?
“That’s because you need to get out more.” He shot Snapper a look. “Though from what I hear, you two have been spending plenty of time together lately.”
“Shut up,” Snapper muttered, color creeping up his neck.
I bit back a smile. The Avila brothers never missed a chance to give each other shit.
“Ma’s already planning the wedding,” Cru continued, widening his grin. “She’s thinking spring. Maybe April.”
“I will end you,” Snapper seethed.
“What? I’m just saying she’s been waiting for this since you were both teenagers.”
“Cru—”
“Remember that time at the harvest festival when you punched Tommy Berkshire for calling Saffron fat?”
I stared. “You did what?”
“I didn’t punch him,” Snapper said quickly. “I shoved him. There’s a difference.”
“You gave him a bloody nose,” Cru corrected. “Uncle Tryst grounded you for a week.”
“He shouldn’t have been talking about her like that.”
