Page 7 of Summer Brew

He watched me more than I could rationalize. I still don’t understand it at all. Then again, maybe I don’t need to understand.

After thinking over Meadow’s advice and then seeing him, my complete suborn ridiculousness became crystal clear. What was I even doing? I had someone to go to. I had someone to ask for help, but I refused to do it because of a crush from girlhood which I’ve allowed to linger for far too long.

I have no reason to be crushing on the man now. We’re barely acquaintances. Do I really care what he thinks of me?

He’s also a teacher. Me showing up at his door should be like catnip to him. Right?

Or will it be insulting and presumptuous?

Damn it.

Before I can drive by for a sixth time, I force myself to pull along the curb and stop. I look up at the house where Keaton has lived for a few years now and try not to let out the soft sigh which wants to escape. It’s adorable and clearly big enough for a family.

It’s almost too much house for him alone, but that’s none of my business.

The garage is big enough for two vehicles and I love the black trim against the white of the house. It looks quaint and nothing is out of place. Even the landscaping is impeccable without being pretentious.

I hate it.

I love it.

I’d absolutely move in today.

Which is not a thought I should have at all. It’s too much. It’s always been too much.

My heart is pounding in my chest as I look at the house, but I can’t just sit here. I need to walk up the walkway to the front door. I need to knock on that door.

Then I need to ask a man I don’t know anymore, a man who I have spent years avoiding, for help.

It’ll be just great.

I’m sure.

I clear my throat as I force myself to climb out of my car. I smooth my shirt even though there’s nothing to smooth. After rubbing my palms over my hips, I push my feet forward and up to the door.

My knock is timid and I frown at myself before forcing myself to do it again, louder this time. I step back and wonder if he’s really here. His truck is in the driveway, but maybe he’s busy. Or in the shower.

He could be out and Gary picked him up?

I don’t even know.

When I look over my shoulder toward my car, I almost turn around and leave. Just as I talk myself into tossing this whole plan out the window, the door creaks open. My head snaps around so fast that my neck does a cracking spasm thing which makes my knees go weak and my face contort in a grimace.

“Gemma?” Keaton’s surprised voice has my eyes snapping open.

I’m blinking back tears, while awkwardly waving in his blurry general direction. “Hi, Keaton,” I chirp my greeting back at him.

His eyebrows furrow together, making the line between them become even deeper. “Hi, Gemma?” He shakes his head slightly. “What are you doing here?”

I hate the way my heart sinks, but I push the feeling away. My lips part before I press them closed again.

Keaton’s hands shoot up as he holds them out in front of him in surrender. “I’m sorry, that sounded much harsher than I intended. And super rude.” He huffs out a breath. “I’m just curious. I didn’t even know you knew where I live. You’ve never been here before.”

“Small towns are good for something,” I tell him honestly.

It’s not like it took a lot to find out where he lives.

The chuckle that comes out of the man in front of me ripples through me. Warmth suffuses through my chest along with the sound of his amusement.