“Hey.” I mentally kicked myself.Thatwas my greeting after ten years of not seeing her?
“Hey,” she repeated softly, her shoulders falling the slightest bit, like simply being in my presence eased some of the tension. She’d done the same thing when we were growing up.
I gestured to the casket before stuffing my hands into the pockets of my brown jacket. “I’m sorry about your dad.”
She looked a little awestruck before giving a tiny shake of her head. “Don’t be.” Her lips pressed into a flat line before she added, “He was an asshole.”
I let out a half-assed chuckle. “Yeah. That he was.”
She just keptstaring, ripping me to bits under her penetrating gaze. I was sure I looked about the same right now. I rocked back on my heels, feeling even more anxious than before.
“You look good.” Her gaze darted to my felt cowboyhat before finding my eyes again. “I mean, you’ve always looked good. You just look…”
“Older,” I offered.
“More mature.”
The corner of my mouth ticked up. “Was I too childish for you before?”
Her mouth popped open like a fish out of water. “No. No! I didn’t mean it like that. I mean”—she waved her hands around—“you used to have chubbier cheeks and not much facial hair and now you have a mustache and a jawline and—” She let out a small laugh that was more air than anything. “Sorry. I guess seeing you after all these years has me tongue-tied.”
That, or the pregnancy I was neglecting to bring up. I had to keep reminding myself it wasn’t my business. To be fair, her bump was small enough that it still seemed early on, but what did I know about those kinds of timelines?
“I get it. A decade changed you, too. You look beautiful, Parker.” I wanted to say so much more, but I held my tongue.
The corner of her mouth raised, her cheeks turning a light pink. Was she blushing over such a simple compliment?
Her hand came up to land on her belly. “Thank you.”
I dipped my chin in a nod before tearing my gaze away from hers. I didn’t want to, but I had to stop looking at her eventually. I wished I didn’t, but it’d be weird if I kept staring. She’d probably think I was having a stroke or something.
“And thank you for coming,” she added, pulling my focus back to her. Hell, it hadn’t left to begin with.
“Yeah, of course. I mean, I came to support you. I know he was a dick, but he was still your dad.”
Her head fell before she forced a small smile. I hated when she did that. “I hadn’t seen him in so long. I didn’t really want to. Never thought about it, if I’m being honest.” She glanced at the casket. “For me, he died the day I left.”
“I think he died for a lot of people a long time ago,” I admitted. I was one of them. “Where are you staying in town? Didn’t they sell your childhood home years ago?”
I caught the way her thumb ran circles over her belly. “Yeah, so I was told. I didn’t want it anyway.” She dropped her hand. “I’m staying at the motel in town.”
I took note of the way she phrased it. She made it sound like she was staying alone. My eyes darted to her left hand, noting she didn’t wear a ring. “Boyfriend not come with?”
Her head tilted slightly, like she knew I was skirting the obvious here. “No. I’m single.”
She said it so confidently, I nearly started peppering her with questions. But instead, I settled on, “That where you’re heading after this?”
“Yeah. Well, I have to take care of some things here first, but after that, I don’t really have any plans…”
Her voice became drowned out as my gaze caught on a red Chevy truck in the parking lot behind her. It wasn’t exactly identical to his, with its stock tires and no tint on the windows, but it was enough to have my heart ratepicking up a notch. I still expected to see him sometimes, even though I was well aware he was never coming back, and when I saw glimpses of who he used to be—whether that was the vehicle he drove or his favorite food on a menu—it’d catch me off guard.
“Right. I should get going.” I didn’t know if I cut her off. Didn’t know if she was waiting for me to reply or excusing herself or what. But I knew I didn’t want to leave her. I’d stand here in silence with her all day if she’d let me, but I refused to break down in front of her.
Your childhood crush comes back after years of being gone and her first impression is you having a panic attack in front of her?
Not cute, if you asked me.
It also wasn’t cute that I didn’t so much as glance her way as I brushed past her and headed toward my truck parked on the street. The oak branches lining the cemetery swayed in the wind, but I didn’t so much as hear the leaves rustling as I trudged through dewy grass, my pace a little too fast to not look suspicious.
