Guess my hope I could make it home and then to the gas station tomorrow was too big an ask.
Scrolling through my contacts, one name stands out to me, but I hesitate, and then scroll past it to her brother’s name.
As quickly as I open a text conversation, I close it and scroll back.
Jacob:
Hey.
Can I ask a favor?
I stare at the screen, re-reading my text and chewing on my bottom lip.
Shaking my hand through my hair, I groan.
“Good Job, Jake. You should’ve—”
Just then, three dots pop up, and my pulse jumps to my throat.
Becca:
You can always ask…
A smile breaks across my face, and an ache rips through my chest. I’ve missed her teasing.
Becca:
What’s up?
My hand hovers over the keyboard as I start to type the message, but then erase it. There isnoway I’m telling her I ran out of gas. I’m not going to give her a reason to make fun of me, at least not until after she gets here.
Jacob:
My car broke down.
Would it be too much to ask for you to come pick me up?
The three dots pop up, and I stare at the screen, waiting for her to answer. When the dots disappear, I start typing a message telling her it’s fine, I’ll reach out to John. But then she responds.
Becca:
Did you run out of gas?
Sure, I can come pick you up.
Tell me where you are, and I’ll head on over.
Waiting for Becca to get to me is the longest ten minutes of my life, and yet it’s still not enough time for me to figure out a way to bring up what I said tonight at dinner. I don’t want to drive over it. I meant every word, and I need to know if she still feels the same.
I know her brother won’t be happy about it, but he’ll just have to get over it.
There is no way I’m letting her get away again.
But then a thought rolls over me that leaves me gasping for breath.
What if I’m already too late?
Chapter Twelve
