A quick shoulder check had Ash pulling in the right lane and onto the gravel strip on the side of Highway 401.
Putting the engine in park, he turned as far in his seat as possible so he could face me.
“Cade, listen. . .”
I cut him off.
“Ash, you can’t just stop here! It’s for emergencies only.”
Granted, we were outside the busy sixteen-lane portion of the highway where a move like this one would have been insane to even contemplate.
“Well, let’s hope whichever cop stops to give me a ticket is a hockey fan. If not, I think I can affordtopay it, eh?”
Ash regarded me with a bland expression, blinking innocently.
“Jerk,” I accused.
He never flaunted his money or made me feel in any way that the disparity between our incomes was a thing. Our dates had consisted of me bringing his afternoon Tim Horton’s fix to his office, then sitting on the loveseat together while he drank it, and as many nights as possible in his apartment, spending time with Poe, mostly watchingThe Pittif we could keep our hands off each other for a full episode.
“Let’s not borrow trouble, as my dad says.” He waved his hand at the gravel shoulder on the other side of the windshield. “Do you really think all that is going to happen?”
Ash’s directness was reassuring and confronting at the same time. As much as I loved that he never kept me guessing—something that had helped level out my constant feelings of anxiety—he didn’t let me “it’s nothing” my way out of real conversations.
Shoving the back of my head hard against the headrest, I closed my eyes and groaned, not ready to be a grown-up and talk out my worries.
Hiding all of myself all the time was a wickedly hard habit to break.
Meanwhile, still not letting go of my hand, Ash waited for me to be ready to talk. Never mind the fact that we didn’t have time for this pit stop if we were going to make it to Olivia’s birthday on time.
Ash had shown me a picture of his niece, and seeing her cute little face in my mind was the kick in the pants I needed to open my eyes and face him.
His first reaction when our gazes met was to smile. The man was a saint wrapped in hotness.
“There he is. Look at those pretty eyes,” he praised.
“Blushing while explaining shitty feelings wasn’t on my list for today, you know.”
“Try anyway,” was his cheeky response.
“It’s just what I said. I’m not good with new people. Shit, you saw what I was like back in August with the team. It’s an important day for your family, and I don’t want to embarrass you in front of them,” I admitted.
Leaning over the space between our seats, he brought his free hand up to cup my cheek.
“Cade, please don’t put the pressure of the day going well or not on your own shoulders. It’s a kid’s party. There’s a ninety-ninepercentchance my nephew, being the oldest, will call Liv ‘stupid’ and make her cry before she opens her first gift. My sister-in-law works a crazy, stressful job running her own software business. Adam might nag her about taking more time off one too many times, and they’ll end up pissed at each other and try to hide it. Or a miracle might occur, and the whole thing will run smoothly. But worrying about everyone else’s experience isn’t your job, okay?”
Ash could have been speaking Latin for all my anxiety-wired brain could take in what he was saying.
“Okay. I can try.”
Trying was the best I could offer. I was too used to constantly monitoring the moods of everyone around me after years of outbursts from my dad.
“Thank you. Just stick with me, and everyone will be too busy harassing me about coming home to visit more often or askingtoo many questions I don’t want to answer about my shoulder. You’ll be golden in comparison. Even if you just stand there and hold my hand.”
“That I can do.” Quiet listening was my specialty.
“If for some reason I’m stuck listening to my brother engineer at me, or my dad tries to get me to help him carry ‘just a of couple things’ into the garage, stick with my mom or niece and nephew. None of them will let you talk anyway.”
Gratitude flooded me that he took my worries seriously when so many people wouldn’t.
