“I didn’t know if you were back for good or not,” I murmur, putting my hands into my hoodie pocket. “You were pretty set on never coming back when you left.”
Paisley stills in the process of opening the basket, not looking at me as she says, “Things change, Braxton. Did you know Mom used to bring Dad food?” I blink at the change in subject. “When they were ‘courting.’” She lets out a light laugh as she finger-quotes the word.
“No. Don’t think I’ve ever talked to your parents about their origin story.”
“Origin story,” Paisley repeats. “I like that. According to Mom, Dad was quite the catch. Everyone wanted to marry the good-looking firefighter.”
A flicker of agitation beats to life in my chest. “I don’t know why. It isn’t exactly a glamorous career,” I mutter. “My mother didn’t want me to follow in Dad’s footsteps. She knew what the job would ask of me and my family.”
Paisley pauses with her hand in the basket, her brown eyes slowly lifting to mine. “Braxton, are you okay?” she asks hesitantly. “I know it’s been years since we’ve been in each other’s lives, but something feels…offwith you.”
A surprised laugh leaves me, one edged in bitterness. “You’re right. Ithasbeen years, so how would you know if I am off?”
Paisley’s lashes lower, hiding her eyes. “I don’t think four years erases eighteen,” she murmurs, not quite about to hide the hurt in her tone. “That history doesn’t just disappear, and it doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”
I look away, annoyed at myself. “Sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
She doesn’t seem to hear me. “I didn’t want to go no contact, you know. But I knew that if I didn’t…” She shakes her head, pulling out two muffins and handing me one. “My mom was really worried about me not getting out of Sterling Creek. She’s lived here her entire life, and she wanted me to get out and explore the world the way she never did.”
“I know.”
And I do.
I never blamed Paisley for those choices. The plans she and her mother had made together were never secret, just as my plan to stay hadn’t been. Even after I told Paisley how I felt about her, there was this certainty that nothingwas going to change. But I got it into my head that I would regret it if I said nothing.
I bite into my muffin, eyes widening as sweet citrus rolls over my tongue.Orange chocolate chip. My favorite.I finish it off in just three bites. “These are delicious,” I say after swallowing my mouthful. “I didn’t know you could bake.”
Paisley ducks her head, but I see the way her cheeks fill with color. “There’s a lot we don’t know about each other, as you keep pointing out. You said we could be friends,” she says abruptly.
“I did,” I say slowly. “Look, Paisley. I’m sorry, but there’s just…” I sigh, feeling like an asshole. “I’ve got a lot going on right now. It’s December, and on top of what that means for me here”—I gesture at the fire station—“Gracie and I are in the middle of buying a house.”
Paisley stills before she glances at me with a neutral expression. “I knew you were looking, but I didn’t know you’d actually found a place. I don’t know much about buying property, but Christmas doesn’t seem like a great time to buy.”
“Yeah, I know,” I mutter, my neck feeling too tight as pain blooms at the base of my skull. “But we don’t want to miss out on this house.” They’re the right words, but Paisley clucks her tongue like she doesn’t believe me.
“A house is just four walls, Brax. A roof. It doesn’t come before things that matter.” She lifts a shoulder, conceding, “Unless you’re homeless, I suppose. Which you’renot. And if you’re stressed?—”
I clench my jaw. “I’m not stressed over the house. I’m just…preoccupied. Once I put the offer in next week?—”
Paisley furrows her brow, interrupting, “Why next week? Why not after Christmas? Look, Braxton, I don’t know much about houses, but there can’t be that many people moving at Christmas. You’re probably more likely to get the place cheaper if you just wait a couple ofweeks.” Her expression tightens into something pensive. “Or you’re just using the house as an excuse for why we can’t be friends.”
I stare at her with wide eyes. “Why would I do that?”
She looks away, chewing on her lower lip. “I don’t know. I just have this feeling…”
“Paisley?”
“Is it Gracie?” she blurts. “I don’t know her, obviously, but she seemed a little…” She shrugs delicately. “Standoffish, I guess. At Thanksgiving.” Paisley frowns, like something just occurred to her. “She was the same at Benson’s too.”
I press my lips together, knowing exactly why Gracie would have beenstandoffishwith her, but I am not telling Paisley that. Still, she’s watching me with this expectant look, and I cast around for something to say. “The holidays are hard on Gracie.”
Regret instantly fills me, especially when curiosity brightens Paisley’s eyes. “Why is that?”
I pull back, pressing my back roughly into the bark, not meeting her gaze. “They just are.”
Paisley shifts so she’s sitting on her hip, legs curled to the side of her. “I’m just trying to get to know her, Braxton. We’re practically family, after all.”
“You’ve been back for what? Two weeks?”
