“The first nineteen tries are always practice.”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” She pauses as I quirk a brow in her direction. “Oh, god, get your mind out of the gutter!”
“You wound me, Winslow.” I clutch my chest with my free hand.
“I think the wound will heal itself in no time.” She’s now laughing which causes me to also, this moment has me feeling blissfully happy. I’m not one to dive head first into friendships or relationships but being around Maisie is easy and comforting and I hope I can keep her in my life—even if just as a friend.
“I still can’t believe we got our faces painted.” She pulls down the visor and inspects the paint on her face through the mirror.
“The butterfly fits you well.”
“You think so?”
“Dolly Parton once said, ‘love is like a butterfly, a rare and gentle thing.’ You, Maisie, are a rare and gentle thing.”
This time it’s she who takes my hand and intertwines her fingers with mine.
“Henry,” she’s looking at me with a faint sadness in her eyes, “I wish today didn’t have to end.”
“Me too, Maisie.” I rub small circles on her hand like I did earlier on the ferris wheel. “Thank you for inviting me to come.”
“Not to take away from the moment, but you technically invited yourself.”
“Technically, Wren invited me.” I squeeze her hand. “You say that like you didn’t just say you wished the day wasn’t over.”
“I don’t think it would have been the same without you.”
“I think it would have been different but I still think you would’ve been brave with or without me and overcame your fear,” I say confidently. “Speaking of, do I get to watch you cross it off?”
I see her tense up at the question but she lets out a calming breath and nods. “Yes, when you drop me off, let me just run inside and grab it.”
We continue driving for another fifteen minutes and somewhere between me asking her if I can watch her cross off her bucket list, and now, she’s somehow fallen asleep.
I use the time I have sitting at the stop light watching her chest rise and fall, her mouth slightly parted. She looks at peace, the whole time not letting go of my hand even in her sleep.
A few minutes later we arrive at her house and as quietly as the truck will let me I put it in park. Hopping out, I make my way to the passenger side where she rests.
Opening her door, I reach over to unbuckle the seatbelt. Before waking her up I grab her bag by her feet and toss it over my shoulder.
While debating on the best way to wake her up, it’s decided for me when I hear her tired voice.
“Hi,” she says softly and it brings a small smile to my face. “Did I,” a yawn breaks her sentence, “fall asleep?”
“Yes, but we’re back home now, so you can go right back to bed.” I push her hair behind her ears, my fingers selfishly glidingacross her cheek. “If you give me permission to go inside, I can carry you.”
“I can walk, it’s okay.”
“I know you can, but do you want to?” She looks back at me with a sleepy smile on her face, shaking her head. “Come here.” I hold open my arms and help her out of the car princess style. Her arms immediately wrap around my neck and she nuzzles her head into my collar bone.
I know this version of Maisie is half asleep but I want to take in this moment as much as I can. I feel engulfed by her scent, her soft hair against my skin. If I could just stand here with her for as long as I live, I would in a heartbeat.
Just friends.
I remind myself every time I feel any sort of emotion toward her.
I carry her up the front porch steps. “Hey, sleepy head,” I whisper as to not startle her but she doesn’t move, a soft snore escaping that has me smiling to myself.
Not wanting to wake Maisie, I somehow manage to grab her keys out of the bag I have on my shoulder and unlock the door. I try not to look around her home as she didn’t expect me to be inside but from the small glimpses, I can tell this house is veryher.
