Adrian nudges my foot under the table.“We’ll be fine.And hey, if there happens to be an extra bit of money needed...”
I gasp dramatically.“Are you suggesting we fib the system?”
“Would I do such a thing?”A slight smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth.
I laugh.
His expression softens.“Just having decent medical equipment could save lives, you know.”
“It’s important to you, isn’t it?”
He nods but doesn’t say anything.
I can see it in his eyes.Something personal that’s driving this need.I want to push to ask what makes him care so much, but the vulnerable look on his face stops me.
“Tomorrow,” I say, my pulse picking up.“Do you want to meet at Pulse Point?”
“At our spot?”
“Say ten?”
He grins.“Sounds good.But I was thinking… maybe I should keep this Spiderman look.”
“Don’t you dare.”
He chuckles.“Alright, alright.”
He walks me to my car, staying just long enough for the moment to stretch between us.Then he waves goodbye, and I watch him go, something giddy swirling in my stomach.
I don’t know when my family left because I was too busy all day, but I can’t wait to see the article that my colleagues write up about the festival tomorrow.Because today was a huge success.
Chapter 18
Adrian
Is there more than just holiday cheer in the air?
If you were at the fundraiser yesterday, you might have noticed the undeniable chemistry between Dr.Adrian Pierce and our very own Amelia Richards.Sources say they were practically inseparable, sharing inside jokes and even getting a little hands-on.Purely accidental, of course.But the real question is: will their “just friends” act hold up much longer?The way he looked at her.Well, let’s just say, if looks could kiss…
Dr.Whisperer
Ipushopenthedoor to the diner, the scent of fresh coffee and buttery pastries overwhelming my senses.Conversations quieten as I step inside, followed by hushed whispers.I catch a few glances thrown my way, the kind that hold just a second too long.My jaw tightens.It’s been weeks since I arrived, but apparently, the town still has nothing better to discuss than my personal life.Even Genevieve, who’s usually too busy running the place to care about town gossip, gives me a look, that familiar raised eyebrow I’ve seen her use on customers who’ve had one too many cups of coffee, her lips twitching like she’s deciding whether to say something.
I frown.“What?”
She shakes her head, smiling knowingly.“Nothing.”
That’s a lie.But I’m not about to play into whatever rumor is making the rounds this morning.I focus on the reason I came: coffee.A large iced honey latte with white chocolate cold foam with a little drizzle of caramel for her and an Americano for me.
With coffees in hand, I make my way to Pulse Point.The drive should be quiet, but my mind won’t settle.Today’s interview feels different.I want this to go well for her, for the article to be exactly what she envisions.The fundraiser was a success, but the story behind it, the real reason we did it, is just as important.What I’m not sure about is whether we can sit across from each other and pretend that almost-kiss didn’t happen, pretend there isn’t the tension that seems to bubble whenever we’re in the same room.
I pull into the parking lot and scan the area.Her car isn’t here yet.The disappointment that hits is deeper than I expected.I’ve been looking forward to seeing her, even if things between us feel complicated now.
I settle at one of the picnic tables.
Glancing down at myself, I smooth out the crisp white shirt I chose for today.It’s nothing fancy, just clean, fitted, paired with dark jeans.A suit would’ve been overkill, but I still wanted to look… decent.Professional but presentable.
Who am I kidding?I just didn’t want to look like an idiot in her article photo.
