Starting with not finding any and every excuse to touch her.
I clear my throat as I take the folder from her and step back. “I’ll look over the plan.”
“Good.” She nods. “That’s good.”
I dip my head.
Lola’s gaze shifts around, taking in the rows of trees and the guys chatting over on the logs. Her eyes flick to the solid oak door. She lifts up a hand, trailing her fingers against the smooth varnished wood, and I realize she’s never been here before. I have this deep urge to invite her in. To offer her a drink or a tour or anything really just to get her inside. In my space.
Before I can cave to my baser instincts, Lola shakes herself out of it and drops her hand. “So, uh, I’ll catch up with you in a couple of days.”
“Sounds good.” It’s not what I want to say. This goodbye feels awkward as fuck and my voice comes out a little gruff and short.
Lola nods to herself and hops off the porch. She makes it a couple of meters down the dirt path trodden into the grass before stopping and looking back over her shoulder.
“Roman?”
“Yeah?”
“I didn’t know you owned the orchard.”
She doesn’t phrase it as a question, but I get the sense she’s searching for answers. Wondering how we’ve gone from living in the same house every holiday to knowing pretty much nothing about each other’s lives. I would ask after her every time I saw her parents or spoke with Mase, read every postcard she sent from across the world. It hurts a little to know she didn’t ask after me.
“For four years now,” I say.
She gives me a small smile but it’s half-hearted at best. Maybe not knowing hurts her a little too.
I don’t think I want that. As much as I obsess over Lola, I’d rather she not give me a second thought than me be the cause of her pain.
“Congratulations,” she says, the word a feather in the air.
I give a single nod then hold up the folder. “I’ll be in touch.”
I turn on my heels and head back to my crew. I have to tense every muscle till they’re hard as rock to stop from looking back and watching her walk away.
Future business partners do not watch each other walk away.
Chapter Twelve
Lola
Mom and Dad are mad at me.
They’ll come around.
Why do I do this to myself?
I don’t know, Lo, but everything will be okay. I’ve got your six. Always.
- Conversation between Lola, age 16 and Mase, age 23
The downsideto buying the old hardware store is that we need to go to the next town over for supplies.
I never used to mind traveling but the thirty minute drive to Mount Bush gives me too much time to think.
Skyler and I left Henry working on laying the up-cycled wooden floorboards and because she’s driving, my mind is free to spiral to the deepest depths of insecurity.
I go through the list of things we need to buy to try and distract myself from the one thing—okay, the oneperson—I can’t stop thinking about.
