Page 32 of The Girlfriend Zone

“Because it was someone else’s?”

“No. Because it reminded me too much…”

He pauses, absorbing that, then says, almost like he’s caught me on a technicality, “But you wear the earrings.”

I shrug. “With a note like that, it was kind of hard to resist.”

A smile shifts his lips, and he says, “I understand that completely.”

And I suppose I do understand why he sounded borderline thrilled moments ago. Maybe because he suspected the real reason I went down that trail nearly two months ago. I don’t like letting down my guard. I don’t like showing myself to most people. But since Miles put himself out here this morning, I do something risky too. “But if I’m being honest, I suppose I went there because I was kind of stupidly hoping there’d be something left there.For me.”

His smile widens but is tinged with regret. “A note? A trinket? A treasure?”

“Any of the above,” I whisper.

He takes a step closer. Close enough that I catch the scent of him. Soapy and clean, like he showered at home before he came here to work out with the guys. “I was in such a rush to get it done that I forgot to take something to replace the bracelet. I had to convince Birdie to take another bracelet later that day.”

I crack up. “The thought of your grandmother in a pink boa and heels trudging through a hiking trail in the Presidio doesn’t compute.”

“Trust me, it didn’t compute for her either. But she did it. She felt pretty bad about…everything.”

“It wasn’t her fault,” I say softly.

He scratches his jaw, glances at the door again. “She tells me you’re doing some work for her? Besides the photos you took?”

I smile. “I am. She hired me to take pics of her shop and the different drinks and food offerings every week—then she posts them on socials for the week.”

“That’s awesome,” he says. “Maybe I’ll see you around.”

“Maybe,” I say.

He’s quiet for a beat, then perhaps resigned to this new normal, he says, “I should go. I really shouldn’t be here like this.”

I nod, understanding completely. “I know.”

Before he leaves, he tilts his head and says, “Do you know sign language?”

“I do. Did you see me talking to my dad in his office?”

“Yeah. But I didn’t know what you said,” he admits.

“That’s the point,” I tease. But I can tell he’s asking seriously, in the way that means he wants to understand me.

“Have you always?”

“I learned it in school.” I don’t usually share the next part either. I hesitate, unsure if I want to put myself out there like this, unsure if I want to admit this to anyone besides my family. Still, maybe there’s some safety in telling him. He’s not my boyfriend. He’s not a guy I’m dating. He can’t really hurt me. He can’t run away since we’ve already parted. “Just in case.”

His eyes flicker with something somber. “In case?” he prompts gently.

“Well,” I say, then I pause. “I don’t know what the future holds. I always want to be able to communicate with my family.”

He winces, his throat tightening. “I understand. I do.”

I’m not sure if he really does, but I appreciate how open he is about it, how comfortable and non-judgmental he seems. How caring he is when he talks to me. And how hard he tries.

“I should go,” I say, feeling the moment close in.

He leans in, like he’s going to kiss me, and honestly, I wouldn’t stop him.

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