Page 8 of The Spark Between Us

Another silence falls, but it's not entirely uncomfortable. Ellie fiddles with her napkin, and I take the opportunity to really look at her. She's changed since I last saw her at Christmas. There's a new confidence in the way she holds herself, a maturity in her eyes that wasn't there before. She's always been beautiful, but now there's something more—a self-assurance that's undeniably attractive.

And I need to stop thinking like this immediately.

"I should probably get going," I say, pushing back from the table. "Early shift tomorrow."

"Oh," she says, and I swear there's disappointment in her voice. "Right, of course."

We both stand, and suddenly we're much closer than I expected, just a foot of space between us. I can smell her shampoo—something citrusy and sweet—and see the flecks of gold in her brown eyes. My gaze drops briefly to the smudge of sauce still on her cheek.

"You've got a little..." I gesture vaguely to my own face.

"What?" Her hand flies up, missing the spot entirely. "Where?"

Before I can think better of it, I reach out and gently wipe the sauce from her cheek with my thumb. Her skin is soft and warm beneath my touch, and I pull back quickly as if burned.

"Got it," I say, my voice rougher than I intended.

She's staring at me with wide eyes, her lips slightly parted in surprise. For one insane moment, I wonder what would happen if I leaned down and kissed her right now. The thought is so vivid, so tempting, that I have to step back to break the spell.

"Thanks," she whispers.

"No problem," I reply, shoving my hands in my pockets to keep them to myself. "I'll, uh, see you Monday? Nine o'clock at the station?"

She nods, tucking that same loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I'll be there."

I should turn and walk away. I should find Brock, thank him for dinner, and leave. I should do anything except stand here, looking at her like she's water and I've been lost in the desert.

"Ellie," I start, not knowing what I'm going to say but feeling like I need to say something.

"Yeah?" There's a hopeful note in her voice that makes this even harder.

I swallow hard. "The lasagna was really good. Best I've ever had."

It's not what I wanted to say. Not even close. But it's safe. And I need to play it safe.

Her smile dims slightly, but she recovers quickly. "Thanks. I'll send you home with leftovers."

Brock returns before I can respond, clapping me on the shoulder. "Everything good with you two?"

"Great," Ellie says brightly, though there's something forced in her cheerfulness now. "Grant was just saying he needs to head out. Early shift tomorrow."

"Right, right," Brock nods. "I'll walk you out, buddy."

I follow him to the door, looking back once to see Ellie collecting plates from the table. She glances up, catches me watching, and gives a small wave that twists something in my chest.

Outside, the evening air is cool against my face. I take a deep breath, trying to clear my head.

"Thanks for dinner," I say to Brock. "Tell Ellie thanks again for the lasagna."

"Will do." He crosses his arms, studying me in the porch light. "You okay? You seem... distracted."

I force a casual shrug. "Just tired. Long day."

He nods slowly, not entirely convinced. "Listen, I'm glad you and Ellie are going to work together on those safety demos. She needs something positive to focus on right now."

"Is everything okay?" I ask, immediately concerned.

"Oh, sure," he waves a hand dismissively. "Just the usual post-graduation anxiety. Figuring out her place in the world. You know how it is."

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