Page 39 of Chasing Home

“It’s not a bad thing. Maybe you don’t need it, but it’s okay to want it.”

Staring out the window at the house beside us, she wets her lips with her tongue and flips her hand beneath mine before squeezing my fingers. It’s the quickest length of time someone has ever held my hand. One second, one breath, and then it’s gone, the touch a phantom in the wind. But the heat lingers like a brand.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Johnny,” she says, the sound of defeat heavy in her voice.

The seat belt clicks as she undoes it and makes a move to get out. I let her go, watching her push open the door and step out with my lips sealed shut and pulse racing. Wanting more and knowing that I can’t have it without risking sending her skittering off like a trembling mouse keeps me in my seat for a moment longer.

She steps onto the sidewalk and glances at me over her shoulder. Arms crossed beneath her chest, she lingers, waiting for me to get out of her car so she can go inside, most likely.

I swing my body out of the car and stretch my neck while softly shutting the door. Who knows if a slam would knock it clean off the hinges.

“Thank you,” she mutters.

Surprised at the words, I whip my head up to look at her and steady myself with the door. Spreading my fingers out on the top curve of it, I ignore the burn of the hot metal against my palms and flash her a soft smile.

“No need to thank me, darlin’. I meant my offer,” I say.

“I know.”

“And did you mean it? That you’ll see me tomorrow?”

Her expression shifts just enough for me to notice. A slyness that I haven’t seen before greets me, and goddamn it, I like it a whole lot.

“You do work tomorrow, don’t you?”

I bark a laugh, my head dropping forward as I shake it. “Yeah, Rory. I work tomorrow.”

“Then I’ll see you. I suppose you’ll interrupt my lunch break again.”

“Only if you’ll let me in to join you. No cauliflower this time, though, right?”

She drops her arms from her chest and presses her palms to the curves of her hips before patting them once. It’s a fidget move, and I want to know if she’s doing it because I make her as nervous as she makes me.

I doubt it.

“No cauliflower,” she confirms.

“It’s a date, then.”

I throw the offer out and wait. Each second that ticks by without an answer is painful. The silence bites. But I don’t let myself take it back. It’s already out there.

And as she twists toward me, her expression open and honest, I know I made the right choice in asking. A brick to the back of my head couldn’t tear my attention from her when she speaks, voice low.

“We’ll see.”

13

AURORA

“You know, this entire neighbourhood garage sale thing is very outdated,” I grumble, ducking my head into the hole in the attic in preparation to shove myself up.

It smells like dust and mothballs in here. This house is far too old for any of us to be coming up here so often. The floor is going to collapse one of these times.

“You know how Susan is. She’s ever the poster woman for a perfect community. You should have heard her at church last Sunday,” Mom says from the ground beneath me.

The top two rungs of the pull-down ladder aren’t all that sturdy anymore. I try to keep as still as possible while eyeing the attic and the white cloths draped over the several furniture pieces stashed up here. Half expecting the sheet to be tugged from the mirror in the corner of the room and a half-rotted face to appear in front of me, I keep my body tense and at the ready.

“Your first problem is continuing to go to that church in the first place, Mom. Susan is the nicest person there, and that says a lot.”

---