Page 150 of Frozen Flames

I laugh at the certainty in her tone that it’s his fault. “I think so,” I add, realizing that I truly, deeply believe that.

“Then let it go, forgive. There are no such thing as complications—you either both want it, or you don’t.”

I think about her comment throughout my next work shift and the drive home until I park in my driveway that evening. That’s when Harvey calls me. My heart is beating out of my chest as I stare at his name on my phone.

I pick up. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he says softly. He sounds content, peaceful, even. It’s a far cry from the angry, moody man I met back in the winter. “Did I catch you at a bad time?”

“No.”Not at all, I want to add, but don’t. “I just finished work. I’m home now.”

“That’s good. Listen, I was wondering if you’d like to hang out tomorrow afternoon.”

“I would love that,” I say, feeling giddy.

“I have a little picnic planned, so you can dress accordingly.”

“I’ll pick you up, okay?” I confirm, mentally rummaging through my wardrobe.

“One of these days, I’ll be the one picking you up.” He sighs. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Claire,” he teases afterward before hanging up.

I spend the night with Audrey helping me pick out an outfit, since my mom has a work event. We settle on a flowy white dress with sandals.

I shower and blow-dry my hair, then I watch a reality TV show for Audrey’s sake.

I’m nervous about tomorrow.

I’m tired of loving a man from a distance when he’s so close by.

Mrs. Kent’s words ring in my head all night. All the while, I listen to Audrey’s commentary about everyone on the show.

These shows aren’t my thing—historicals and romantic comedies are—but hanging out with my sister is important to me. Alas, sometimes one must suffer through it.

Our date the next day is at a beautiful park with picnic tables sitting on a grassy field, overlooking the water. The scenery is magnificent, but that’s not what catches my eye the most, no.

I can’t take my eyes off of Harvey.

He’s not using his wheelchair. He still brought it with him—it’s in his van on standby. We walk slowly, him on his crutches, to one of the tables.

I don’t ask more questions than need be. The last thing I want to do is act like his nurse. I left that job for a reason, and now it’s time I take on the role I’ve wanted to have in his life—as a girlfriend hopefully.

Still, as we sit at the table and I set down the basket of food, I can’t help the tears that gather in my eyes. I look away, then up.

“Hey, don’t cry, not for me,” he says, giving me the comfort of his hug.

I exhale. “I’m just so happy for you.”

He grins. “I won’t lie—I’m pretty happy for me too.”

I can’t remember the last time he was this carefree. It’s really nice to see. He holds my face in his hand and gives me a simple kiss, one full of promises andI miss youandI never stopped wanting you or loving you.

I want more kisses.

I want more nights in his bed.

But I settle for one kiss, knowing we have a lot to discuss beforehand.

“I got us lunch.” He hands me a sandwich with lemonade and chips. He also brought hummus and vegetables and some chocolate-covered strawberries.

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