Page 113 of Fire and Icing

“And you helped.”

He smiles at me and then he asks, “Do you want to talk about that kiss?”

“I think I’d rather not.”

Would I? Maybe. I don’t know. I prepared myself to tell him everything. And now that we’re here, with the feel of his lips on mine still fresh, I’m not so sure.

“Okay. But it’s not going anywhere. And I’m not either.”

“You’re not?”

“I don’t think so, not unless you count going back to your gran’s and then into work tomorrow.”

He turns the key in the ignition and I take a deep breath. “I just have a thing with people leaving. I don’t like it when someone says they’ll stay … and then they move on without a thought.”

“Like your parents?”

“And others.” I don’t mention Drew. Dustin doesn’t need to hear the way he left without a second thought. I’ll sound like I’m not over my ex. And I most definitely am.

“An ex boyfriend?” Dustin perceptively asks.

“He wasn’t that important. At the time … I don’t know. At the time I thought he mattered a whole lot. But my perspective has shifted over time. He wasn’t the one.”

I start to say more, about how his family never accepted me, how I always felt like his second choice. And how I stopped dating altogether after he left. But I don’t say any of that.

Instead, I say, “Sorry. You didn’t sign up to be my therapist, just my fake boyfriend.”

His eyes are soft and filled with the kind of compassion that makes me wonder if I accidentally said all my thoughts out loud without realizing it.

“I’d sign up for more if you’d let me,” Dustin says in a voice that’s not exactly careful, but is far less bold than usual.

I glance across the truck at him and smile.

“Let me sleep on that,” I say, trying to steady the racing of my heart.

I was going to be the one to push us forward. I was. But now that his invitation is out there—raw and real—I need a second. Just a second. Because I think I already know my answer.

Chapter 25

Emberleigh

Everything you want is on the other side of fear.

~ George Addair

Dustinand I ride in silence for a while. The combination of the long day, the excitement of the contest, and the weight of my thoughts and feelings about him finally takes its toll and I fall asleep the rest of the drive, waking in a disoriented haze when we pull up next to Gran’s house.

“We’re home,” Dustin says.

It should feel odd to hear him call my gran’s house “home,” and to think we both live in the same place. I stretch and hop out of the truck. I want to talk to him, but I need to sort my thoughts, make a plan, gather my wits … or a combination of all of the above.

“Thank you, again,” I say as we walk side-by-side to the back door.

Dustin holds it open and I walk past him.

“I’m exhausted,” I confess. “That nap didn’t really do much.”

“I guess I’ll see you in the morning or tomorrow evening,” he says.

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