“You must know you’re beautiful.”
No one.
No one had ever called me beautiful.
Not like that.
Forgetting that we were sitting on a bus surrounded by people, and that that bus was teetering on the side of a mountain, I licked my lips, willing him to lean forward?—
For half a second, it felt like the world narrowed to this one moment. One breath.
Then the bus jolted hard, lurching over a rut or a rock or maybe just a cruel twist of fate.
A collective gasp went up.
“You okay up there, Joe?” Ed called out.
“Don’t distract him,” Mrs. Grady snapped.
The spell shattered.
Noah and I both turned toward her voice at the same time.
The bus ride evened out, but the moment was gone.
Noah winced. “My mom really overshared last night, didn’t she?”
“She just…loves you. A lot.” I said, trying to keep it light.
You must know you’re beautiful.
“Right. Stil, I might have to have a talk with her, but…” Noah scrubbed a hand down his face. “The stuff she said about Courtney—my ex?”
I blinked, sitting back slightly. “Uh huh.” I braced for impact. Here was the part where he told me he was still in love with her. Before I mistook his compliments and all this, for something more.
“My marriage...it’s definitely over. It’s been over for a long time. And I really don’t want you to get the wrong impression. If my mom said otherwise…” He shook his head. “All wishful thinking on her part.”
Oh.
“You’re sure?” I asked.
“Absolutely.” He exhaled, looking ahead. “I’m not… It’s… I just want you to know that.”
I swallowed, heart thudding. “Okay.”
Our hands were close—mine resting beside his on the seat—and when his pinky brushed lightly over mine, I stilled.
The contact was brief. Barely there.
But it lit something. A charge, humming silently between us.
Just then, the gears beneath us let out a groan, and the bus shuddered, once, then again, then smoothed back out.
Noah and I exchanged a glance, both eyebrows raised. Then the road crested and the view opened wide. Noah leaned toward the window, shoulder brushing mine. I didn’t move away. In fact, I might’ve leaned in a little.
Below us, the small town nestled in that valley looked to be straight out of a Western.
Tay’s voice crackled over the speaker. “Okay, folks! This charming little town is Silverton. Founded in 1874 as a mining camp, it once boasted more than two thousand residents and twenty-nine saloons. Priorities, am I right?”
