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“Tell Damon I said hi.” She took a large bite of cinnamon roll.

I left the cabin, and panic rose in me. Tomorrow, I was leaving. If I didn’t find him and talk to him, I knew I’d regret it.

My search was over pretty quickly. I rounded the barn, and there he was, replacing a section of fence. Of course he was. The man could probably survive the apocalypse with a toolbox and a roll of duct tape.

He wore faded jeans, work boots, and a white T-shirt that stretched across his muscular back. His hair was a mess. His jaw was shadowed with stubble. He looked exhausted. And unfairly attractive.

I hated him a little for that.

"Damon."

He looked up. For one stupid, hopeful second, I expected his face to light up. It didn't.

"Hey,” he said flatly.

Just that. No sweetheart. No gorgeous. No ridiculous line about me finally coming to my senses.

He wiped his forehead. “Is your mom okay? Does she need something?”

"Yes. I mean no. She’s fine. She says hi." I lifted my hand awkwardly, then put it down. “Can we talk?”

He set down his hammer. "Sure."

I waited. He waited. I was starting to develop a deep hatred for people who waited.

"You've been avoiding me." I had no idea why that was my opening line.

This was why plans were so important. I was not a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants girl, and this was why. Whenever I tried, I typically ended up with foot-in-mouth disease.

He wiped his hands on a rag. "I've been busy."

"You're always busy."

"Yep." He nodded, his eyes cast downward.

It was like I was talking to a stranger, like he hadn’t been a man confessing his undying love to me nine days ago. He wouldn’t even look at me. "That's it? Just yep?"

His gaze met mine. "What do you want me to say?"

I wanted him to smile. To tease me. To step closer. I wanted him to tell me he'd missed me so badly he couldn't stand it.

I wanted him to fight. For us. For me.

I knew it wasn’t fair. I knew that he was behaving this way because of me. But I couldn’t stop myself from wanting it. Needing it.

Instead, he stood there looking at me like I was someone he'd finally learned how to live without.

"So that’s it?" I asked.

“What’s it?”

“You’re just done?”

Something flashed across his face. Pain. Then disbelief. “Done?"

My heart started pounding. "With me. With us."

He let out a quiet breath. "What us?"