But his arm stays around my waist, and mine somehow ends up on his chest, and we’re still standing very close together in the middle of a honky-tonk. The crowd has started to fade back into their own conversations, and it just seems to be us in this little bubble.
“Thank you,” I say quietly.
“For what?”
“For this, for making me do ridiculous things and reminding me what fun feels like.”
His hand comes up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering against my cheek.
“Last call!” Dolly shouts from behind the bar, and just like that, the moment shatters.
Wyatt drops his hand and steps back, and I feel the loss of his touch.
“I should help close up,” he says.
“Yeah, me too.”
But as he walks away, he looks back at me, and the expression on his face makes my heart skip.
After we close, we fall into our normal routine. I wipe down the tables while he counts out the register. We move around each other in silence, but there’s something different tonight, a charge in the air that wasn’t there before, or maybe it was always there and tonight just made it impossible for us to ignore.
“Back deck?” he asks when we’re done.
“Always.”
We grab our drinks, sweet tea for both of us tonight, and head out to the deck behind The Rusty Spur. Out here, the mountains are dark against the night sky, and the stars are so bright they look like someone spilled diamonds across black velvet. I’ve never seen stars like these before. In the city, it was impossible to see stars.
I settle into what’s become my usual spot, and Wyatt sits beside me, close enough that our arms brush. For a while, we sit in silence, but I’m hyper-aware of every point of contact, the warmth of him beside me, and the way the crickets and tree frogs create a symphony in the darkness.
“Can I ask you something?” Wyatt says finally.
“Of course.”
“This week, the bull, the karaoke, all of it, that’s not who you were in Atlanta, is it?”
It’s not really a question, but I go ahead and answer anyway.
“Nope. In Atlanta, I was controlled. Everything was calculated and appropriate. I never did anything spontaneous, crazy, ridiculous, or just for the pure fun of it.”
“Why not?”
I think about the question. I really think about it.
“Because fun wasn’t part of the plan. My mother had this vision of who I should be. Elegant, refined, accomplished, appropriate at all times. I spent a long time trying to be that person that I forgot how to just… Well, be. And now, while I rode a mechanical bull in front of a bunch of people, sang karaoke badly, and laughed until my face hurt, I can’t remember the last time I actually felt this alive.”
He’s quiet for a moment, and when I glance at him, he’s looking at me with such tenderness that it makes my breath catch in my throat.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he says softly. “I know I’ve said that before, but I really mean it. You’re different here, more yourself.”
“Or maybe this is the first time I’ve actually been myself anywhere.”
“Maybe.”
He reaches over and takes my hand, lacing his fingers through mine, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. My heart starts racing, but I don’t pull away.
“Eleanor,” he says, his voice more serious now. “I need to tell you something.”
“Okay.”
