Page 76 of Take Me Home

Another flaw to bringing her out here: he’d given her a weapon. She nearly threw the club at him. Her chest rose and fell with sharp breaths, and he realized he was doing the same, getting worked up. If he wasn’t careful, he would go too far, just like he had at the hospital with his parents.

“It wasn’t a hint, okay? I didn’t want to dump all my family stuff on you in the middle of Winter Fest. That’s why I wanted to talk later.”

“It wasn’t just at the festival, though,” she said. “I’ve been to your house, met your family. I’ve told you all kinds of personal things. Why didn’t you tell me about your dad before? June thought I knew. And last night, Franny was asking about him, wasn’t she? Not his hip, but the MS?”

Reluctantly, Ash nodded.

“So, what, you can talk about it with Franny, but not me?”

“That’s not it at all. She knows because people around here know about it now. I haven’ttalkedto her, not in any deep way.”

“If people around here know, then why keep it a secret from me?”

He swung hard, and the ball sailed out and up, suspended for a long moment, the small white sphere nearly vanishing in the washed-out sky before its arc broke. The ball bounced off the top of the pump with a distantping.

“Why?” Hazel pressed.

“Honestly?” He teed up another ball, ignoring that it was her turn. “Hazel, I’ve been trying to figure out some foolproof way to be with you and not scare you off.”

He swung again. He reached for the next ball as the last hit its mark. “You told me nothing could change. You don’t do afters. Hell, you made me promise you the café because, ifanythingwent wrong, you’d be done with me.”

Another swing. Another hit.

“I—”

“It was always just a matter of time, wasn’t it, before things got too serious? I thought if I could keep things easy and uncomplicated, maybe I could hold on long enough for you to see that I’m—”

A gust of wind blew his next ball off the tee. He scrubbed his face in frustration. “Maybe I should have told you about my dad sooner. But look what happened the first time things got remotely difficult. You panicked and tried to bail. Because God forbid you have to admit you have feelings about anything.”

“That’s not fair.”

“It’s not?”

Her shoulders hunched in, and her lip quivered before she bit it. As soon as he registered how hard his words had landed, she thrust her hand out for the club. He barely jumped out of the way before she was planting her feet and rounding back for a big swing. “You’re the one who said this was just physical, that you could stop on a dime and go right back to pouring my coffee.”

Her ball shot wide, ricocheted off the fence post with a loudcrack, and zinged back, nearly taking out Ash’s knee.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she cried, flinging the club away.

A harsh laugh scraped out of his throat, part relief and part indignation. “What was I supposed to say, Hazel? That I’m so fucking gone on you I’m already dreading the end of this trip? When we go back to regular life, and coffee is the only thing you’ll need from me?”

“You’re— Ash.”

He turned. He couldn’t look at her. This was exactly what he’d been trying to avoid.

“Ash.” The remorse woven into his name made his chest tight. Her fingers brushed his knuckles, his wrist, and squeezed. He could hear the catch in her throat behind him when she tried tospeak but stopped. Then, “All I’ve wanted these past few days,” she said, her voice so quiet the wind nearly carried it away, “is to get as close to you as you’ve somehow gotten to me.”

He turned around, and she shifted back to maintain the space between them, a buffer. He clasped his hand over hers to keep her grip on his wrist, keep her right in front of him. “That true?”

She blew out a breath. “Yes.”

He didn’t let her duck her face, tipped her chin up. She held his gaze as long as she seemed able to stand it before the dark fringe of her eyelashes fluttered closed.

“Haze, I need you to tell me if any part of you wants to stop. For the record, I don’t. At all. But if you do, I’ll figure out how to—”

“Pour my coffee?” She came back to him with more confidence this time, her eyes open and bright. With a resolute shake of her head, she toed up and kissed him, firm, closing the door on that avenue of thought. She stayed close, her breath ghosting across his lips. “I don’t want to stop, Asher.”

It was that stupid, playful nickname, after all her harsh, angry intonations ofAsh, that made him cradle her face and pull her mouth back to his. “I kind of hate that you’ve made me like that.”

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