Arching an eyebrow, I hold up my glass too, wondering what in the world he’s going to say. “To us,” he says, “and the universe making our paths cross at the perfect time.”
I can’t help pressing my lips together, not quite sure what to make of that toast. It could easily be construed as something romantic, though he assured me that even if I did marry him, it wouldn’t be a romantic relationship. Which is good. Right? That’s what I would want … isn’t it?
When I don’t make any immediate response, he dings his glass against mine and takes a sip. Left without much other option, I take a sip as well.
And I guess that’s what galls me about the whole situation. I feel like I’ve been left without any options.
So much of my life, I’ve felt like I didn’t have many options. College was supposed to change all that—and for a while, it seemed like it had—but now I’ve ended up right back where Istarted. And if push comes to shove, that might literally come true.
I don’t like feeling backed into a corner.
And I guess that sums up my misgivings about his toast. The universe is the bitch that put me here. Why should she get any credit?
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Jason
After dinner,I take Hailey back to her place. “I leave tomorrow,” I remind her before she gets out of the car.
“I know,” she says, looking at me with her big brown eyes. She looks almost worried, and I don’t want her to worry.
“I can book you a last-minute ticket.” That makes her eyes widen more, and the almost worry turns into full-blown panic. “Or not,” I rush to add. “I can change my ticket. Stay a few more days.”
Looking away, she considers that. “Do I have to decide before you leave?”
“No. Like I said, take as much time as you need. Just don’t, y’know, ignore me until you’re about to be homeless or something, okay?”
She smiles, though it looks forced. “Okay.”
When she reaches for a handle, I put my hand on her arm, making her pause, the zing at touching her not as distracting now that I’m getting used to it. “Promise me, Hailey. Promise me that you won’t let things get that desperate before lettingme help you. Having an eviction on your record will make life unnecessarily difficult.”
Her shoulders seem to slump, and she looks at me, her eyes still wide, though less panicky. “I promise I won’t get evicted before letting you help me.”
“Okay. Good.” I release her. “Do you want me to stay longer?”
Her mouth opens, and she looks at some point over my shoulder. “Kinda? But I also don’t want to make you feel obligated to stay. I’m sure changing your ticket last minute would be expensive, and I feel like I’ve already spent enough of your money. If you stick around, you’ll just want to monopolize my days, and if I’m going to actually figure out what I’m going to do, I think I need the time to myself.”
When she meets my eyes again, I nod, trying not to feel stung or hurt that she didn’t immediately say yes. Of course she didn’t. She’s fiercely independent. The fact that she didn’t reject me outright is actually a win, even if it doesn’t feel like one. “Okay. Got it.” But I kinda wanted to spend more time with her. I just found her again. Just got to know her again. If shedoesn’tmove to Seattle with me, who knows how long it’ll be before I get to see her again? For all I know, she’ll block me as soon as she gets inside. And unless I show up and physically track her down like a crazed stalker, I could never see her again.
That thought makes panic grip my lungs in a tight fist. “You’re not going to block me as soon as you get inside, are you?”
She laughs, giving me a look like I’m crazy. “No? I mean, I wasn’t planning on it. Are you going to blow up my phone with nudes or something?”
“What? No. Why would I do that?”
Shrugging, she tilts her head to the side. “That’s the reason I blocked the last guy. So unless you do that or something in that realm, I won’t block you.” Her gaze softens. “It’s nice to be able to talk about Hunter with someone. I haven’t had that in …” Sheshakes her head, clearing her throat. “Well, ever, really. Even if that’s all you do for me after this, that’s plenty.” She reaches over, resting her hand on my arm. “I’m glad you recognized me the other night. At first, I was freaked out by it, but the last few days have been the nicest in a long time. Thank you again. For everything.”
“You’re welcome,” I say, wanting to add that I’ll do all that again and more, but I don’t want to be pushy. And we both know she already knows that.
She opens the door and climbs out, and I do the same, going to the back seat to open the door so she can get her things. Once she has them, I spread my arms for a hug. With a small smile on her face, she sets down her violin and steps into my arms.
Holding her feels good, and I almost don’t want to let her go when she starts to pull back. But I do, of course. I’m not trying to be a creepy weirdo.
“Thanks again, Jason,” she says quietly as she steps back and picks up her case.
“Call me,” I say. “Or text me. I’ll let you know when I’m back in Seattle.”
She smiles. “That sounds good. I hope you have a good flight.”
