"The contractor sent some samples for the built-ins," she says, scrolling through her phone. "Would you... I mean, if you're still willing to look..."
"I said I would."
"Right." She tucks her hair behind her ear – a nervous tell I've come to recognize. "I just wasn't sure if..."
If what? If I’m still interested? If this thing between us actually means something?
Main Street appears ahead, snow piled along the sides of the road. I slow down as we approach Emma’s coffee shop where she gets her weird lavender lattes. The ones she claims are better than Boris's coffee, though I've caught her talking to him about the recipe.
I should say something. Anything.
"You could—" I start, just as she says, "Maybe we—"
We both stop. She laughs, soft and awkward.
"You first," she says.
I grip the steering wheel tighter. "Just... the bookstore plans. Send them when you're ready. I'll take a look."
"Oh." She looks down at her hands. "Right. Thanks."
That wasn't what she was going to say. That wasn't what I was going to say either.
I pull up to her building. It looks exactly like it did two weeks ago, except now there's a "Coming Soon" sign in the empty storefront below. Someone's tied a red bow around the post.
"Thanks for..." She gestures vaguely. "Everything."
I nod, not trusting my voice.
She opens her door, letting in a blast of cold air. I should help with her bags. That's what a normal person would do, right?
But if I get out of this truck, if I walk her to her door, I might do something stupid. Like ask her if she's really sure she wants to move into this apartment. Tell her she should move in with me, even though we’ve only known each other for weeks and I have nothing to offer her.
"Dean?"
I look over. She's got one foot on the ground, but she's turned back, morning sun catching her hair like a halo.
"I..." She bites her lip. "I'll send those plans soon."
"Okay."
She nods once, then she's gone, gathering her bags from the back. I watch in the rearview mirror as she makes her way to the building's entrance. She doesn't look back.
The sign in the window catches my eye again. "River Bend Books," it says in elegant script. "Opening this Spring."
Spring. Months away.
Plenty of time for her to realize she's making a mistake.
Plenty of time for me to figure out how to tell her.
I pull away from the curb, already dreading the empty cabin waiting at home. Boris is going to be insufferable.
Can't really blame him though. I'm not too happy with myself either.
My phone rings just as I hit the edge of town. Emma's name flashes on the screen.
"What?"
