Page 26 of Never To Forever

I nod, wiping at my eyes again. "Thanks."

He crouches in front of the headstone, setting the bouquet—daffodils and daisies, her favorite—down with a kind of reverence that makes my heart ache. He says nothing, just lingers there, his broad shoulders taut. After a moment, he rises, turning back to me with his usual no-nonsense expression, but there’s a gentleness in his eyes that helps me relax.

“You wanna get a drink?” he asks suddenly, his voice breaking the stillness.

I blink, surprised. “A drink?”

He shrugs. “Yeah. Something to take the edge off. You look like you could use it.”

I could use one. More than that, I could use the company. I’m so emotionally worn down, I just need to be around someone—anyone—even if it’s Garrett.

Right now, I don’t care about how tense and uncertain things have been between us. I just want to forget about what happened. About the kiss and him running away afterward. Right now, I’m emotional and need a friend. If he’s willing to be that friend, who am I to turn him down?

I can’t help but laugh softly, the sound surprising even me. “I probably could. Are you sure you’re not the one who needs it, though?”

His lips twitch into the faintest hint of a smile. “Maybe we both do.”

“Fair enough,” I say, brushing off my jeans and stepping toward the path. “Let’s go.”

We walk side by side; the gravel crunching underfoot as the breeze carries the scent of earth and flowers. It’s a quiet, unhurried walk, but it doesn’t feel awkward. For once, the silence is companionable, a shared time of reflection between two people who have both lost something.

When we reach the parking lot, Garrett pauses and looks at me.

“Do you want me to drive you?” he asks.

I shake my head. “How about this—I’ll drive back to my place and walk toCarson’s. It’s not far.”

“All right,” he says. “I’ll meet you there.”

He waits until I’m in my car before he climbs into his truck. The low hum of my car engine fills the quiet space as I pull out of the cemetery. The gravel crunches beneath the tires, a sharp contrast to the soft whispers of wind through the trees just moments ago. My hands grip the steering wheel a little tighter than necessary as I think about my situation with Garrett now that I’m away from the cemetery and Leila’s grave.

We don’t see each other for days because he’s trying so hard to avoid me, but now he wants to get a drink? I don’t think I’ve ever gotten a drink with just Garrett before. We’ve always had Haven, and more recently Christian, acting as buffers for us. It’s kind of funny. This is what I’ve always wanted—to be out, alone, with Garrett—and yet anxiety is bubbling in my stomach. This isn’t even a date… right?

No, it’s not a date. I need to get that thought of my head right the fuck now.

The car jerks slightly as I hit a pothole, pulling me back to the present. I drive downtown, passing the bar and my mother’s store—my store. When I reach my house at the end of the street, I pull into the driveway and turn off the engine. I just sit there, staring at the steering wheel. At length, I sigh, grab my purse and step out into the crisp air, locking the car behind me.

The cool air bites at my cheeks as I make my way downtown. It’s quiet out, just a few cars passing here and there. The faint glow of the bar’s neon sign comes into view, and I feel a strange mix of nerves and anticipation.

I reach the bar a few minutes later and pause outside the door. Garrett’s truck is already parked in the lot. This isn’t a big deal. Just a quick drink with a friend. I’m not even going to think about our kiss… or how badly I want to do it again.

Shaking my head, I banish the thought. Lifting my chin, I plaster on a smile, reach out to open the door, and make my way inside.

CHAPTER TWELVE

GARRETT

When Marie walksin the door ofCarson’s, I raise my good arm and wave her over. I’m sitting in a booth in the corner, where we can have a modicum of privacy. She makes her way over to me and slips into the booth across from me. I push one of the two beers in front of me across the table to her. She takes it with a small smile.

“Thanks,” she says before taking a drink.

Sitting back, I study her before asking, “Why were you visiting Mom today?”

She looks up at me, her expression hesitant. Maybe that question was too personal, but I can’t help my curiosity.

Letting out a soft sigh, she answers, “I just need some clarity on a few things, and I thought going to her gravesite would help.”

It’s the same reason I was going there myself, but I don’t say so. Still, I wonder what it is she needs clarity about—does it have to do with our kiss? Most likely, but again, I don’t mention it. A part of me still isn’t sure how to address that.

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