“I’m not brooding,” he said wryly. “I’m keeping my distance.”
“Scared of a teenage girl. So sad.”
He glanced at me, that smile teasing the corner of his mouth. “You’re not a teenager anymore.”
Our eyes held for a long moment. My pulse jumped. “Glad you realize it.” My voice was husky.
A yellow-wheeled taxi trotted by in the opposite direction, carrying a family out to dinner. I held my breath, waiting for Joe to do something. Say something. Touch me.
He kept walking. I fell into step beside him. He did not take my hand. But every now and then our shoulders brushed, and I felt the slight contact all the way up and down my side. The houses of the Village straggled into view, ringed with gardens and fences.
Something about the yard…My steps slowed. Something about my yard was different. My eyes widened. “Wait. The well. Did you…” I looked at Joe. “When did you fix it?”
“Two days ago.”
I flushed. “Sometimes it takes me a while to notice things.”
“Sure.”
“I love it!” I yanked open the gate and ran inside to leanover the edge. No pennies. I plucked a dandelion from the grass and tossed it into the well.Make a wish…
What did I want? Did I even know? World peace, a return to normalcy, a healthy baby for Daanis…Somewhere I could belong. Big wishes, important wishes, too huge to be bought with a flower.Stay in the moment.I was done projecting into an uncertain future. I couldn’t go on hoping for things that might never happen. And yet…
I turned and beamed at Joe. “Thanks.”
He smiled a little, keeping his eyes on my face. “Anytime.”
My heart thumped.Now.
I walked out the gate. “Is this a situationship?”
His forehead creased. “What?”
“It’s okay if it is. It’s just…We slept together in Chicago. Actually slept, obviously, not had sex. But you did kiss me. And I felt really close to you, and you’ve barely talked to me since we got back. I wondered if you’re avoiding me or if it was just a road trip thing.”
He raised his brows. “You mean likeThe Hangover? What stays in Vegas?”
“No. It’s another romance trope.” I watched my step, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. “A road trip—forced proximity, an emotional journey, deep conversation, time away from the real world. An escape from reality.”
We had reached his mother’s house. He dropped the handle of the cart and turned to face me. My mouth was dry.
“That kiss,” he said, and stopped. I licked my lips. His gaze dropped briefly to my mouth before returning to my eyes. “It felt pretty real to me.”
My arms broke out in goose bumps. I could barely breathe.
“You want to come in?” he asked.
23
Anne
Seize the momentsounds good.But it was a lot easier said than done.
In my imagination, the scene went like this: Joe and I stumbled through the doorway and fell into each other’s arms, tearing at our clothes, overcome by passion. But in real life, Joe, after unloading the cart and letting the dog out, did not do me against the wall of his mother’s kitchen. He did not ravish me,Bridgerton-style, on the stairs.
I stood frozen in the middle of his room, my pulse leaping beneath my skin, while he lowered the window shade. Right. Because parading naked in front of your neighbors was generally frowned on in the Village.
Unlike mine, Joe’s bedroom had made the transition to adulthood. No messy pile of discarded clothes heaped in a chair or a corner, no row of button-eyed stuffed animals watching from the dresser. His big platform bed was neatly made. The wide-screen TV on the opposite wall was flanked by live edge shelves, organized and uncluttered. Everything clean. Solid. Functional.
