Page 28 of Someday Not Soon

In a daze, I head back to the sprinkler aisle, giving up on asking for help. Determined to figure it out on my own and avoid another encounter with Jude, I stand in the narrow aisle, surrounded by rows of identical metal parts that blur together in my tired eyes. Frustration bubbles up, and I release a long, shaky breath. My muscles feel like they’ve been through a marathon, my mind is exhausted from handling the stress of cleaning up andselling my parents’ home, and I’m just completely drained—both emotionally and physically.

Right as I’m about to give up and walk out of the store, I sense him nearby before I even see him. The flash of his olive green shirt catches my attention, and suddenly he’s standing there, shoulder-to-shoulder with me.

“So, what are we looking for?” he asks.

The word ‘we’ makes my eyes dart to him. Though his head remains forward, he glances my way from the corner of his eye, a faint smile pulling at his lips when our gazes meet.

“Honestly, I have no idea. I give up.”

He gently takes my hand, the one clutching the broken part, to get a better look. His fingers brush lightly against my skin as he examines the piece—a casual, innocent touch that somehow sends my heart racing as if he’d kissed me.

After rummaging through a few bins, he hands me a new sprinkler head. “This should be it.”

“Thank you.” I manage a half-hearted smile. “I never asked—what’re you doing here?”

“Replacing a few switches. So I needed to pick up some things.”

Before I can respond, my stomach lets out an embarrassingly loud growl, drawing his attention. “Have you eaten today?” he asks, furrowing his brow.

“Yeah,” I lie, but his pointed look tells me he’s not buying it. “Okay, fine. I haven’t eaten yet. But I’m picking up Chinese food on my way home.”

Skeptical, he nods, and we walk to the checkouttogether. As we scan our items, the older cashier gives us a kind smile, the sort of smile reserved for adorable couples. If only she knew how insanely uncomfortable this moment feels for both of us.

We head out of the store and stop, turning to face each other in the sun-drenched parking lot. The heat radiates off the pavement, seeping through the thin soles of my sandals.

“Well, thanks for your help today. I was completely lost in there,” I say.

“Anytime.” He smiles, then hesitates before blurting out, “Hey, do you need help installing that? I can follow you back and set it up for you. It wouldn’t take long.”

His offer catches me off guard, and I can’t shake the feeling that he’s only offering out of politeness. He did literally run away from me, for a second time, at the beach after all.

“No, thanks. I should be able to figure it out.” Probably not, but I can always enlist Noah or Cole’s help later. “I’m sure you’ve got better things to do,” I add.

“I’m not busy. It will only take me fifteen minutes tops anyways.”

Saying yes feels dangerous, like opening a portal that could drag me back ten years to the highs and lows of that summer. But damn it, I can’t say no to him. He’s only trying to help, maybe seeking a repentance he doesn’t even owe.

He squints his eyes against the sun, shielding them with his hand as he stares at me. It’s as if he’s using Jedi mind tricks to will me to say yes.

Giving in, I reply, “If you’re absolutely sure it’s okay with you.”

“I’m completely sure.” He turns to head toward his SUV, calling over his shoulder, “And by the way, we’re stopping for food first. You need to eat.”

“When did you become so bossy?” I tease, yelling back across the parking lot.

He flashes a smile before getting into his vehicle, and I follow in mine. Within minutes, we’re pulling into a hole-in-the-wall Chinese restaurant. Specifically my favorite one since childhood, and I can’t help but wonder if he remembers it’s my favorite.

Food has been the last thing on my mind lately with my stomach in constant knots. If it wasn’t for him practically dragging me here, I would have eaten a handful of pretzels and called it a night.

He opens the door for me, as we step into the dimly lit Chinese restaurant. With the rich aroma of spices in the air, my stomach suddenly decides it’s ravenous. A large fish tank separates the waiting area from the dining space. Beyond it, the small restaurant is filled with dark wood tables and booths, and red lanterns that cast a warm glow.

The waitress shows us to our table, and Jude follows me with his hand resting on the small of my back. A simple touch that lingers on my skin like a hit of dopamine, leaving me craving more.

We order from large tri-fold menus, awkwardly settling into the booth as I face the reality that sitting across from each other is only going to amplify this tension between us.

He clears his throat. “So. How’ve you been? Since the beach house?”

Behind his eyes, it’s like I can see the memories flashing of what happened on the back deck of the beach house the last night we were alone. How we both began to cross that line that we so desperately need to maintain. I’m certain he knows I’m thinking of the same thing, but we ignore it in an effort to not make things weirder than they already are.

---