He nods, and I walk back to her bedroom and find her standing in front of her closet, just staring, as if she’s deep in thought.
“Are you okay?” My voice is soft, but she still jumps and then presses her hand to her chest. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”
“It’s okay. I was in my own little world, I guess. I don’t honestly know how much to bring.”
“I’d bring most of your summer stuff,” I reply, stepping closer to her. “But we can come check on your place every week, if you want, so you don’t have to bring it all at once.”
She nods and walks into the closet, boosts up on her toes to reach a duffel bag, but she’s too short, and her fingertips slip off the edge of it.
Moving up behind her, I press my front to her back, reaching over her, and easily grab the bag. Her warmth, her scent, is like a gravitational pull that I can’t stay away from.
“Here you go.” My voice is rough as I pass her the bag, and I haven’t backed away from her.
Her breath hitches. She doesn’t joke with me the way she would have years ago. She doesn’t elbow me in the ribs and tell me to get out of her bubble.
No, Wills swallows hard, and her entire body tenses.
“Do I make you uncomfortable?” I ask her. Shit, if that’s the case, I’ll stay away. I’ll do my best to go back to normal, to treating her like she’s my sister.
It’ll be fucking hard, but I don’t ever want this woman to feel uncomfortable, especially not around me. She’s too amazing for that shit.
“No,” she says, shaking her head slowly.
“Then why are you suddenly nervous around me, Wills?”
She takes a deep breath before she opens the bag and starts to pull clothes out of the dresser that’s in her closet.
“I’m not nervous. That’s silly. You’re my person, my best friend. I have no reason to benervous.”
“Right.” I cross my arms over my chest and watch her for a minute, and then she skirts by me, careful not to touch me, and grabs some things out of her bathroom, then tosses that small bag onto the bed.
It smells so good in here. Like honeysuckles and laundry detergent. Like Willow.
I could bury my face in her closet and simplybreathe.
But that might be creepy.
“Excuse me,” she says, and I realize I’m still standing in the middle of the closet, blocking her way.
“You may not be nervous,” I say, continuing the conversation, “but you’re not acting normal, either, and I’d like you to tell me why.”
“I haven’t been around you like this in a really long time,” she finally admits as she folds some shorts and tosses them into the bag. “I get texts, calls, and the occasional FaceTime, but I haven’t spent significant time with you, in person, inyears, Ry. So it’s just different. It’s something I’m still getting used to. That’s all.”
“That’s not all,” I insist, and she blows out a breath.
“It’s just an adjustment period,” she says softly, and when I step toward her, she doesn’t tense up. She doesn’t move away. “But I’m really okay, and I’m not nervous.”
She frowns, as if she wants to say more, but then Aiden pokes his head around the door, interrupting us.
“I loaded the food into the car.”
“Thanks, buddy,” Willow says with a smile. “We’re ready here too.”
She zips her bag closed, and I lift it before she can, and we make sure the house is locked up tight.
“Hey, Wills?”
“Yeah?” she asks.
