I made sure to keep up the soothing sweep of the pad of my thumb over his skin. I rhythmically stroked from the fleshy part at the base of his thumb, up and over the first and second joints of the digit, brushing against the rougher skin of his cuticle and back down again.
So far, my reassuring motion hadn’t had any visible effect on my boyfriend.
“You okay, sweetheart?” My nerves had me rushing on without waiting for his answer. “They loved you, you know?”
I hoped my tone sounded more encouraging than desperate, though desperation had edged out any rational feelings about five minutes into our drive.
You’re in love with him, my subconscious chose this moment to pipe up helpfully.Why else would you be turning yourself inside out with worry over one afternoon?
“Hmm, sorry?”
In my peripheral vision, Cade turned his head and brought his right hand to rest over our joined ones on his leg, squeezing gently.
The small reassurance had my tight chest muscles relaxing slightly.
Struggling to keep myself composed, I tried again. “Just want to make sure you’re okay after today, sweetheart? You’ve just been quiet the whole way home. My family can be a lot, but you know they liked you,right?”
My tone went slightly higher on the last word, betraying some of my worry.
Why did this moment feel like game seven of the playoffs?
“Oh, yeah. For sure,” he replied lightly, giving his head a quick shake as if my words had drawn him out of whatever he’d been thinking about. “Everyone was super nice to me.”
His voice came out more confident with his second sentence.
“And you liked them too?”
“Absolutely,” he answered, bringing me more relief. “But, babe, do you know how crazy it is to be in a family where everyone likes each other?”
“What do you mean?”
Surprised, I risked a quick glance in his direction. Traffic had gotten a bit more congested the closer wetraveledto Toronto, so as much as I just wanted to drink in his expression, I had to keep my eyes on the cars and massive eighteen-wheelers around us.
“It’s like Santa or the Easter Bunny showing up in the flesh at your door. Something I’ve heard random people say but never seen live. It’s amazing.” He hesitated.
“But what, sweetheart?”
“It’s not like feeling jealous or anything, but it’s almost. . . painful.” The end of his sentence was barely more than a whisper.
Shit-god-fucking-damn. This man could shred my heart with a single sentence.
The wish that I could change that feeling for him was an anvil on my sternum.
And fuck, I didn’t want to make it worse by saying something meaningless or placating or some shit like that.
A piece of Mom’s advice, which she’d repeated to my brother and me in our teenage years, pushed its way to the front of my mind.
“Asher, when in doubt, just shut your mouth and listen. In every situation, the other person just wants to be heard. That’s the important part.”
“Thank you, sweetheart,” I attempted to infuse my intense gratitude into my tone.
A quick squeeze of his hand in mine was his response.
I drove in silence for a few minutes before Cade shifted again in the passenger seat, his leg tensing under our joined hands.
Was he going to say more about his family? Or mine?
“Ugh. Yeah. That’s not what I wanted to say before.”
