His eyes went a little unfocused as he looked at her, luminous in the middle of his kitchen. He had to swallow before he could speak.
“You’re perfect.” He cleared his throat. “Let’s go.”
* * *
In the car,neither of them said much as they headed toward the interstate. Leo was caught in the moment of their near miss, and given her silence, that might be where Faith was living too. The drive to Starved Rock State Park would take about an hour, and right now it seemed like the only conversation was going to come from the radio, where a woman chattered away before launching into the music. Faith laughed softly a few notes in.
“What are the odds?” She whipped out her phone and tapped furiously. “That’s Mabel. I’m sure she’ll get a kick out of hearing that she made things awkward on a road trip with my hot ex-boyfriend.”
“What?” He shot her a confused glance.
“Pssht, stop it with the fake modesty.” She wrinkled her nose at him. “All you’ve done since high school is level up your hotness, you dork.”
“That’s not…”
But her words obliterated his initial question. She thought he’d gotten better-looking? He’d filled out since high school, sure. Had put on some muscle. But all that time in the Brazilian sun had left him harder too. His skin felt tougher, his hair coarser. He had lines around his eyes that didn’t go away when he stopped smiling, and his hands were a mess of scars and calluses. Still, he puffed out his chest just a bit at learning that the prettiest girl he’d ever known still thought he was attractive.
Shit. No. That wasn’t helpful. This trip was about the kids, about Dig Greener. He shook his head and focused on the actual source of his confusion. “What I mean is, why is that song awkward?”
Faith looked at him as if he were especially dim. “It’s the song that was playing during our first kiss.”
“No, it’s not.”
She turned in her seat, adjusting the seatbelt strap so she could face him. “Are you maybe thinking about someothergirl you kissed under the bleachers at halftime of a basketball game while the pom squad danced to Katy Perry?”
“That wasn’t our first kiss.” He didn’t pull his eyes from the road, but his peripheral vision picked up on her surprised flail.
“No? Please educate me. When was our first kiss?”
“The first time I kissed myone and only high school girlfriend,” he said, “was in the hallway in front of her locker. Right before advanced bio, if I recall.”
He flicked his gaze over to her. Still adorable even though her mouth was open in shock.
“What, that? That was just a peck. Kisses without tongue don’t count.”
“Oh yes they fucking do.” He sank into the memory. “You were freaking out about a test, and you were so damn cute that I forgot how nervous I was to even be holding your hand and just went for it.” He lifted a shoulder and let it fall. “The hallway was our first kiss.”
She stared at him for a long moment before straightening to sit forward. “You’re wrong, but in the interest of not picking stupid fights, I’ll stop arguing.”
“As long as you acknowledge that our song isn’t Katy Perry.”
“No deal, Leonidas.”
She glanced at him with laughter dancing in her eyes, and he groaned. “I beg you, stop. Nobody other than my mother’s called me that since…”
His hands tightened around the steering wheel. Faith was the last nonblood relative to call him by his full name. His mind drifted back to New Year’s Eve of their senior year when he’d climbed into her bedroom window while her parents were hosting a fancy crystal glasses-and-tuxedoes party downstairs. She’d yelped and called him Leonidas when he’d slipped his cold hands under her shirt.
His chest tightened at the memory. His first sex. His first love. His first… everything.
This was ridiculous. He was a grown man who’d had plenty of female company since they’d broken up. Girlfriends even. Women who’d kept the memory of his greatest regret tucked safely away.
But now here he was, alone in a car with that very regret, who was probably wondering why he’d gone silent. Or maybe she was remembering the same night. His lips on her skin, his fingers in his hair, his mouth on her…
He cleared his throat and refocused on the conversation. “I haven’t heard that since they called my name at graduation.”
“Right,” she said. “SIUC, huh?”
Now she was the one changing the subject. He rolled with it. “It’s no Northwestern, but my parents were proud.” He thought for a bit and opted for total honestly. Faith was one of the few people who’d truly understand, after all. “Hell, I was proud.”
