Page 4 of The Wounded Mountain Man

"I'm broke. Took a little longer than I expected."

"That would explain the smell."

A small smile. "Yeah. It does."

"What are your plans?"

He shrugs again. "To make a plan."

"Well, you're welcome here as long as you like."

"I won't stay long."

My heart sinks. "Why not? Where are you going to go?"

"Don't know. I just don't want to be a burd?—"

"You won't be," I cut him off because he's being ridiculous, and he has the good sense not to argue. We may not have lived in the same town for a few years, but that doesn't change the fact that we are and will always be besties.

If anything, maybe the time apart has done some good. It's helped me see that nothing is going to ever happen between us and that I need to move on. And I have.

Kinda.

Sort of.

Okay, maybe not really.

But I'm sure me not dating or having any sort of a love life has more to do with the fact I'm on the spectrum, like things to be a certain way, and lack any confidence when it comes to guys, and nothing to do with my feelings for Wade that stubbornly refuse to budge out of my heart.

After dinner, we wash up. Well,Iinsist on washing up since Wade doesn't clean or dry dishes the way I like—I havea long and complicated relationship with suds—so he keeps me company and lets me do my thing.

There isn't a whole lot to catch up on since we message and video chat a couple of times a week. But I've been really worried about him. He's so down on himself, and as much as I've tried to help, nothing has cut through. Nothing can cut through untilhedecides to do something. But at least if he's living with me, I can keep a closer eye on him. All I have to do is figure out a way to make him stay.

We move to the back porch, and we're watching the night sky fill with stars when an idea pops into my head. I have to tread carefully, though. I know Wade. If I tell him he should join one of the outpatient programs we have at the center, he'll balk. Him and his damn pride. No, it needs to be his decision.

"Wanna have lunch tomorrow?" I ask lightly.

"Sure. But aren't you working?"

"I am. You can come by. There's a great cafe on-site."

Our eyes meet. His narrow slightly, and I get paranoid, freaking out that he's boring into my brain and picking up on my plan. Surely I'm not that obvious.

"Yeah, okay," he says, and I sigh in relief. "I should visit Hattie in the morning. She'll have my balls on a platter if she finds out I'm in town and haven't seen her."

I chuckle. "Of course."

"But I can drop by after that."

"Awesome."

The first step in my plan to keep Wade here is underway.

3

Wade

Stepping into Benny's the next day, I'm struck by how run-down the place is. The peeling wallpaper, stools with cracked vinyl, the single row of dull and scuffed Formica tables that run along the length of the front windows. It's a far cry from the bustling diner I remember as a kid.

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