Page 10 of Stopped

“Are you still up at your dad’s place?” I regretted my choice of conversation topic as soon as I saw the storm clouds pass over his eyes and watched his smile grow tenser and less authentic.

“Yeah.”

All further conversation evaporated as the truck rumbled down the curving country roads. I smothered a sigh and turned to look out over the golden yellow fields ringed by forests. The end of the summer season always felt so tinged with loss. My regret over bringing up a sore subject and killing his smile increased the feeling exponentially.

Without a word, he reached for his phone, fiddling with it one-handed as his eyes darted back and forth between the device and the road. A few moments later, the music started playing and it created the strangest sense of deja vu as all our favorite popular songs from ten years ago started playing. Sean Mendes, Taylor Swift, Maroon 5, and Pitbull all sang during the last of our cruise, throwing me back to a time when we used to do exactly this with the same songs playing on the radio. Only once we crossed over the bridge into the center of town did he lower the volume and slow his speed.

“Where to first, EJ?”

“If you want, you can park behind my uncle’s inn. We can walk from there.” I surreptitiously searched his face out of the corner of my mind, hoping that whatever dark clouds I’d inspired were starting to clear. He caught me looking and flashed a grin and a wink.

“Perfect. It’s a nice day for it.”

It was a nice day for a stroll around town. Because I was the biggest idiot in the world, it was his comment about the weather being nice for a walk that inspired me to finally take stock of hisappearance. If I had to guess, he’d put extra care into his outfit. The fitted cornflower blue t-shirt, tan dress slacks, and polished brown loafers were a far cry from his typical off-duty outfits. Not that I’d been keeping tabs on him. Except that I had been.

My tongue once more disregarded everything my brain was saying. “You look really nice today, Will.”

God help me, he blushed. He fuckingblushedover my compliment.

“Thanks.” His sheepish murmur was barely audible. With a deep breath, he stole a glance and smiled, dimples dialed up to their full wattage. “I figured if you’d said yes to me tagging along today, I should look professional. Campaigning is serious business.”

“It is. I’m kind of overwhelmed by the whole thing.” I looked down and smoothed an imaginary wrinkle from my beige chinos. I, too, was wearing loafers and had finished off the ensemble with a button-down t-shirt in cream with a microscopic blue flower pattern on it. Will and I had always had similar tastes in high school, from loungewear to formal wear and everything in between. It shouldn’t have surprised me as much as it did that we’d accidentally dressed in exceptionally complementary outfits. The Windhaven rumor mill was going to have a field day with this, but I wasn’t actually bothered by that idea at all.

With our coffees in hand, we hit the sidewalks. I had a whole list of places I wanted to stop today. As much as everyone in town knew my family and me, it was different now. I wasn’t making introductions, but I was definitely keen on improving the connections I already had and strengthening the ones that needed work. If I had any chance of winning this emergency election, I had to get as many votes as possible and I wouldn’t achieve that by resting on the merits of my last name alone. The added bonus was that I was all grown up now. I’d left forcollege after my senior year and had only returned for summers and holidays. After graduation, I did a ton of work in the capital, about an hour away, and that meant I was only back for holidays and the occasional long weekend. In effect, while I wasn’t making a first impression or that many new introductions, I was hoping I could show people I wasn’t the Thompson’s slightly nerdy, awkward teenage son anymore.

Will stuck by my side for meeting after meeting, adding his affable charm and genuine smile to our conversations, as well as a surprisingly large amount of endorsements and talking points of his own. At no point did he ever steal the spotlight, but I had to admit after the first few meetings, we found our groove. God, had I missed my best friend. Maybe my friends were right—we’d always had a rock-solid connection and innate chemistry. It was stunning how quickly we fell back into the easygoing, effortless camaraderie I hadn’t realized I longed to get back all these years.

Morning bled into the afternoon as we continued strolling in sync down the street. I lifted my gaze to catch his eye, but right before I spoke, his stomach interrupted with a protesting rumble of hunger that had us bursting into laughter. And what a cathartic expression it was. We laughed until tears glistened on our lashes in the afternoon sunshine, clutching our stomachs and laughing harder whenever Will’s would growl again. He’d always been a bottomless pit when we were teens. Given the bulk of his physique and the way his gut was making its hunger known, that hadn’t changed either.

Breathless and smiling like complete dorks, I tugged him away from the door I was about to open and found myself standing before him, our eyes leveled and searching for answers to questions neither of us wanted to give a voice to. Relief flooded my body as he broke the tension of the moment with a safer suggestion than anything I was about to blurt.

“Wanna grab something to eat before we continue? Donny’s has new lunch specials.”

Donny’s was not a surprising choice. Will had always loved the little Italian eatery tucked on a side street not too far from where we were. Each little reminder of the boy still residing within the body of the man in front of me made my heart soar. Even knowing full well how much this was going to hurt in my future, I lept at the opportunity.

“Sounds great. My treat, though.” Without thought, I reached out and flicked a wayward curl from his eyes.

“This time,” he replied with a devilish grin. He seemed delighted by the prospect of a next time. I was right there with him.

“Deal. But I pick the location. It’s only fair.”

“I can work with that. You have good taste in food.”

“You mean you’re not picky and will eat anything?” My grin was untamable.

“Bingo. Come on, before my stomach starts actually talking.”

I turned in the direction of our destination, and my heart, the poor thing, banged in triple-speed as his fingertips landed in the small of my back. Under any other circumstance, the touch would have been a small and insignificant thing. But these circumstances were anything but normal, and I was thrilled over the contact between us like a socially inept teen on his first-ever date. Every little detail was collected, labeled, collated, and tucked away for future dissection. Stolen glances, quippy comments, subtle smiles, and touches just like this one became monumental things, and I ignored all of my logical brain’s warnings in lieu of reveling in the moments. Moments I’d sworn I’d never have again. Moments I adamantly insisted I didn’t want. Moments that were becoming milestones in my clearly dysfunctional heart. Yeah, this was going to hurt, but like Icarus reveling in the joy of flight, I leapt and soared, willfully ignorantof the consequences my actions would most assuredly have on my heart.

Chapter Six

William

My life was absolutechaos, but the morning spent with Elijah was a peaceful sanctuary amid the storm. Good God, had I missed him. The time and space had dulled the intensity, but now that we were making strides toward reconnecting, the true depth of how keenly I mourned his absence hit me like a ton of bricks. I'd cling to the promise as tight as I could. Even if he only ever wanted to be friends. Even if I wanted more than friendship.

I held the door to the eatery open with another grin. I couldn't stop smiling, to be frank. The ridiculous butterflies in my stomach were getting out of hand, growing more incensed with every smile he returned, every laugh we shared, each reminiscence we indulged. His quiet thanks as he ducked through the doorway damn near had my heart fit to burst.

Donny’s was as unchanged as every other staple in our small town. The classic aromas of Italian cuisine were as much a foundation for the building as the polished woodwork and cheerful red and white checkered tablecloths. The bustle fromthe kitchen accentuated the kitschy Italian music piped over the crackling speakers. The display case was overflowing with samples of today’s menu. Donny Jr, the now elderly son of the location's namesake, lorded over the restaurant from his permanently reserved table at the back ashisson, Don the third, shouted and waved from behind the counter.

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