Page 83 of First Love, Second Draft

“Did you need anything else, ma’am?” Matt grabbed the bananas from Rachel’s hands and plopped them into Banana Lady’s cart. He’d really like to finish this conversation without a sneeze-inducing audience.

“I could use a few sweet potatoes.”

“Wonderful. They’re over there. Now what part is freaking youout?” Matt said to Rachel once Banana Lady had vacated the banana stand.

“Honestly?” Rachel reached for an orange and tossed it into her basket. “The same thing that’s been freaking me out for years. Ever since high school to be exact.” She added a lemon.

“Since high school? Wait, you’re not saying you’ve loved me since high school, are you?” Thathadto be what she was saying.

“Why do you think I was so excited about setting you up with Aimee?”

Okay, he had no idea what she was saying. “Rachel, would you stop throwing fruit in your basket and just talk to me? Do you love me? Do you not love me? Do you want to be more than friends?”

“Of course, I want to be more than friends, but...” She looked at the grapefruit in her hand, then at Matt. “What if we don’t make it?”

“Why wouldn’t we make it?”

“Because nobody makes it. Look at my sister. Your mom. Half of anyone who gets married if certain statistics are to be believed.”

“First off, don’t ever base our relationship off anything to do with your sister or my mom.”

“Fine. But what about Gracie and Noah? I used to think they had the type of marriage a person could only dream of. They were always so crazy about each other. Always cracking jokes, teasing and flirting, even when they argued. In some ways, they kind of reminded me of us. You know, if we ever decided to take things to the next level. So when things started falling apart for them our senior year, I don’t know. It kind of freaked me out. What if we risked our entire friendship only to turn out like them—loving each other, but for whatever reason, unhappy and apart? I’d rather see you happy with a girl like Aimee and know that we could still be friends at least.”

“But I wasn’t happy with a girl like Aimee.”

“You should have been. In theory at least. She’s kind and sweet and gorgeous.”

“Well, I don’t want kind and sweet and gorgeous in theory. I want you in heart, body, and soul.”

“Matt—shhh.” Her cheeks blushed a shade darker than the ripened peach she was currently squeezing into a pulp. They were seriously going to have a lot of ruined produce to pay for by the time they left the store. “You can’t say stuff like that. Nothere. Not in agrocery store.”

“Why not?”

“Because... well, it makes me want to leap into your arms and kiss you. But people are looking at us, and I can’t leap into your arms and kiss you when people are looking at us.”

Matt glanced around. Sure enough, customers were shooting them the side-eye as they filled up their carts. Banana Lady was staring at them straight on from next to the sweet potatoes.

Matt settled his focus back on Rachel. “Did you forget that most of this town has already seen me without any pants on? You think they’ll care if they see me kiss the woman I’m madly in love with? Anybody here care?”

“Nah, I say lay one on her,” a guy gathering radishes and carrots yelled from across the produce section. Several murmurs of agreement followed. Even Banana Lady was offering a nod of encouragement.

“See? They’re all for it. They know we’re in love. I mean, wearein love, right? We’re both on the same page here? We’re both ready to take things to the next level? Even if we’re scared, even if it’s risky, even if people are watching? You know I’ll be patient as long as you need me to be, but pleasepleasetell me we can at least move to the level where I can start introducing you as my girlfriend.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No.” Rachel dropped her juicy peach into her overflowing basket of fruit, then dropped the entire basket into his cart. “I don’t want to be your girlfriend.”

Matt heard several gasps. One might have come from his own lips. “You don’t?”

“No.” She clutched the fabric of his shirt and tugged him closer. “You’re not the portly farmer, Matt.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“It means you’re my real hero.” She was definitely getting sticky peach juice all over his shirt, but when she smiled he didn’t care. And when she said, “I want to jump straight to the level where you introduce me as your fiancée,” someone could’ve dumped an entire container of peach juice over his head and he wouldn’t have cared. Or even noticed.

Because he was only thinking about one thing. And this time he was ready for it.

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