Even if I have to tackle Hart to the ground to get those keys, nothing will keep me away.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-NINE
ZIGGY
Iglare at the basket Queenie left, almost certain this is a bad idea. No matter how many times she told me that romance is sweet and thoughtful, when I’d asked if she’d ever been in love, her confused “why bother?” didn’t fill me with confidence.
I didn’t have an answer for that.
The thing is, while Queenie might enjoy being social and dating whoever she wants to date, that isn’t me. I’m having enough trouble datingoneman. The anxiety that fills me over trying to juggle partners makes me want to burrow into the ground.
If things don’t work out with Kennedy, I don’t see them working out with anyone. Not necessarily because I don’t see myself trying again, but because I don’t want to try again. Kennedy feels right. He feels like the person I’ve been waiting for. There’s no way that type of connection comes along regularly, and I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose it.
I cast another doubtful glance at the basket. It’s getting late, and after a day of silence yesterday, and him being weird andstandoffish today, I’m getting worried that I’m already close to losing it. I’d been prepared for a boyfriend I couldn’t get rid of, and now it’s like I have to preschedule time with him. I’m not sure if Kennedy was exaggerating with his past relationships or if it’s all a me problem.
All I know is that I refuse to let this eat at me too.
My emotions are constantly buried, bound into a tight package and hidden so far back in my mind that I can’t focus on them. It’s helped protect me, but it hasn’t helped me live.
Kennedy makes me want to live.
Just as I’m about to give up on him coming, a figure lurches out of the trees and makes me jump.
“I’m so sorry!” he pants. “I was waiting on the car, then it was getting late, so I called Hart, and he was still an hour away, so I figured I’d walk, but I took two wrong turns and …” Kennedy shakes his head as he crosses the grass toward me. “All I knew was that if I kept taking the pathsup, I’d find you eventually, but I can’t lie and say I wasn’t getting worried when the sun disappeared.” He pauses in front of me and takes me in with soft eyes. “Hey.”
I’m so happy to see him, I catch him in a kiss. I hope he knows I’m saying hello and I’m glad he’s here and thank fuck he didn’t get lost all at once. Relief is seeping through me as well, and when he pulls back and smiles at me, it’s the one I’m so used to seeing from him.
“So, what are we …” His gaze falls to the picnic basket. “Are you taking me on an actual date?”
I wrinkle my nose, not sure how to answer that, and pick up the basket. Then I head for the trees while Kennedy trails after me.
I’m so nervous over this stupid idea, and all I can do is hope and beg that I’m not coming on too strong. I’m halfway along the trail when I remember I’m not supposed to be charging aheadon a mission and slow my steps. When Kennedy draws level with me, I reach over and take his hand, fingers slotting between his, and continue on.
After so many years of solitude, it’s new being with someone at all. Having a person to hang out with and spend time with is an adjustment, but one I want to be making. I’ll do whatever I need to in order to keep him here.
We’re walking for a few minutes before Kennedy talks. “You do know where we’re going, don’t you? Because I have no clue.”
It’s really not hard to find your way around Wilde’s End. He’ll get it one day.
We reach the almost vertical rock wall at the end of the trail, and I have to let go of his hand to scramble up it. Then I turn and take the basket from him while he follows.
From this lookout, we’re above the tree line, half-nestled in the hills, and Old End is too far away to see. I always feel untouchable up here.
“Wow …” Kennedy mutters, wiping his hands off on his pants as he joins me. “This is cool.”
It’s a usual, clear summer night, and the stars stretch from the hills on one side, all the way over to the tips of the blackened trees on the other. I let him admire the view while I get to work setting up everything exactly the way Queenie instructed me to. First, the rug, then I switch on all the battery-powered candles, lay out the baking Viv did for me, and hold my breath.
Kennedy’s staring at the setup like he’s as out of words as I usually am. If there’s one thing I know, it’s that speechless is not a good thing.
“You did this for me?”
I clear my throat and force out the answer. I promised myself that I was going to talk tonight. Anxiety or not, I need to know what this is and if I’m doing it right. I need him to know how unsettled an actual relationship makes me. “Yes. Is this good?”
“I …” He steps closer to the blanket, staring at it like it’s a puzzle. “I have organized too many picnics to count for people.”
That nonanswer doesn’t clear anything up for me.
