Larsen’s tongue is poking out the corner of her mouth in concentration, both hands tight on the steering wheel, eyes flicking between the mirrors like she’s performing brain surgery instead of backing out.
She doesn’t need to concentrate this hard anymore.She’s a damn good driver, but old habits die hard.
I lean against the doorframe, smiling to myself as she eases the truck perfectly into the driveway, stops, and throws her hands in the air.
“Yes!”she cheers through the open window.
I laugh.“Darling, you’ve been driving for five years,” I call out.“You don’t have to celebrate every time you park.”
She sticks her tongue out at me.“I absolutely do.I barely get to drive.You always take me everywhere.”
She hops out of the truck, bundled in a big coat, scarf wrapped around her neck, black hair spilling out beneath her beanie.She’s got that soft glow about her that still hits me right in the chest, same as the day I first saw her in Murphy’s Bar.
Only now she’s wearing my ring.
She pads over and slides into my space.I reach for her instantly, the action instinct after all these years.
“You ready?”she asks.
“Born ready.”
She grins.
We’re headed into town for breakfast at the Nosh Diner, Ford’s brother’s diner.After that, she’s got a shift at the bank, and I’ve got a full day at the shop.
Same routines, same rhythms, but different lives than we had five years ago.
Better ones.
I moved in with Larsen in her little house.It’s not so little anymore.We added an extension a few years ago and built another garage out back that I use for my side projects.
It’s been perfect.
So is she.
Inside, the house smells like coffee and cinnamon.Larsen insisted on baking muffins from scratch this morning because she likes to show off for me.
I slide my arms into my jacket and follow her out to the truck.She climbs into the driver’s seat without hesitation, buckling up like it’s second nature.
I still remember the first time she ever touched my steering wheel.The fear in her eyes, the way she shook, the way she thought she was too much, too heavy, too flawed, too everything.
Now she’s confident.Still soft, still sweet, but stronger and braver.
Mine.
She reaches across the console and grabs my hand as soon as I buckle in.Another habit.One I fully encourage.
“Did I tell you Blair’s pregnant again?”she asks as she starts the engine.
I raise an eyebrow.“Again?”
She nods enthusiastically.“Yep.Cole is apparently incapable of staying away from his wife.”
I snort.“Can’t relate,” I deadpan.
She laughs and squeezes my hand.“You’re ridiculous.”
“And you love me.”
