Page 20 of An Engagement Pact

I peer over at him. “Isn’t it true? You have tons of friends, and everyone loves you, and I’ve never met a single person who didn’t testify that you’re a great guy.”

“I do have friends. And they know me as much as anyone does. But I’m not sure how deeply I’ve actually connected. There’s always a pretty big part of me I hold back.”

I’m oddly touched by the admission. “I get that. I suppose that’s why you’ve cultivated that laid-back, casual air. Like nothing really gets to you. Holds people off from seeing into you too deeply.”

His mouth turns up in a small smile that feels intimate.

Intimate.

“Maybe we have more in common than we thought.”

“Maybe we do,” I admit, closing my eyes again as I think about it.

Maybe it’s not as scary as I think it is. Maybe it’s okay to get to know him like this. Understand him. Appreciate him.

After all, we can connect to people we don’t fall in love with.

Maybe I can focus on connecting to Danthatway.

Four

THE FOLLOWING SATURDAY, I’m sitting in the sun on a sailboat as the breeze keeps flapping my hair around my face.

I pulled it back into my normal ponytail this morning as I was getting ready, and I normally get through the day with only a few stray strands slipping out of the elastic. But it’s a breezy day and even breezier here on the lake. About a third of my hair has pulled free and is flying around my face.

Finally I slide out the elastic to start again.

It’s a mistake. Now the entirety of my hair is whipping around like a mane so wildly I have trouble grabbing it all at the same time.

I manage to grip most of it and rush with the elastic. But the bottom section falls free anyway, so I lower my hands with a groan.

Dan has been messing with the lines—I’ve only sailed twice before in my life and have no idea how any of it works—but I catch him watching me with an amused smile twitching on his mouth.

“There’s no call to mock me for having a hair malfunction,” I tell him.

He laughs out loud. “I’m not mocking.”

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