“Yeah, I did it a lot growing up.My dad worked multiple jobs, so I was by myself most of the time.I learned to make meals and leave the leftovers for him in the fridge.”
“It was just you and your dad?”
“Yeah, my mom passed away when I was a baby.”
“I’m sorry, Larsen,” he says quietly.
“Me too.From everything I’ve been told about her, she was awesome.I wish I could remember her.”
Tears sting my eyes, and I sniffle, trying to blink them back.I’m about to excuse myself to the bathroom to pull myself together when Kian wraps his arms around me.
“My parents died too.I get it.It fucking sucks,” he murmurs into my hair.
I wrap my arms around him, clinging as I take a deep breath and push away the grief and sadness.
“Thanks,” I whisper as he steps back.
I turn back to dicing up tomatoes and seasoning the ground beef.
“How long have you lived in Wolf Valley?”I ask as I plate the nachos.
“A few months.They were looking for a mechanic at the shop, and I needed a change of pace.”
“Where did you move from?”
“Chicago.What about you?”
“Miami.I’ve been here for almost a year now.”
“Big change of scenery.”
I laugh.“Oh, yeah, but I needed it.I like small-town life.”
“Me too.”
We share a smile, and I clear my throat, looking away before my crush on him grows any bigger.
“Dig in,” I say, setting the nachos on the small kitchen table.“You want something to drink?”
“Whatever you’re having.”
I grab two glasses and fill them with water.We sit across from each other, and both grab a chip.It’s easy and comfortable as we eat together.
But as soon as we go outside for my first driving lesson, I’m a bundle of nerves.
“I’m not sure that I can do this,” I croak as I stare at the driver’s seat.
“Sure, you can.”
“No, I…” I trail off.My palms are sweaty, and my throat tightens.
“Larsen?Hey.”Kian pulls me into his chest.
I breathe in his pine scent, smiling at the trace scents of motor oil and soap.
“We’ll take it easy,” he promises.
But when he releases me, I can’t make myself move toward the truck.
