Page 31 of Once Upon a Boyband
“So you were going to ask me something?” I say. My voice sounds loud in the stillness, and I suddenly wonder how long we just sat, staring at each other,not kissing.
She clears her throat. “Was I?”
“Something outrageously personal?”
“Oh! Right. I was just going to ask how you fund Hope Acres. Most nonprofits like this one are constantly fighting to keep their doors open, but this place is beautiful, and I don’t really get the vibe that you’re struggling to pay the bills.”
It’s a valid question with a complicated answer, and it could easily steer us into talking about Midnight Rush, but Laney yawns again at the end of her sentence. I don’t want to start this conversation now, and I don’t want to have it on a cold floor. So I settle for telling her a partial truth.
“I have some personal investments that have done pretty well,” I say simply. “I mostly fund Hope Acres on my own, but we also get donations from people who have adopted and a few businesses around Lawson Cove. Your dad makes a regular donation.”
“Does he?” she asks. “He still handles all the financial stuff, so I didn’t know that.”
“He does. Every quarter.”
She yawns again, and this time her head drops onto my shoulder. “My dad’s a pretty good guy.”
“He is, but I like my current vet better.”
When she doesn’t respond, just lets out an easy, “Hmm,” I decide to call it.
“Okay, sleepy head. Let’s get you home.”
She snuggles Ringo a little closer. “I don’t want to say goodbye to him.”
“Trust me. You’ll love him more if he’s mostly housebroken before you get him. You only have to wait a few more weeks.”
She sits up and holds Ringo out to me. “Fair enough.”
I move Ringo over to the dog bed, where the rest of his siblings have already curled up with their mom, then offer Laney a hand, pulling her to her feet.
The piggyback ride to the car and then the drive back to her house are mostly quiet, but it’s a comfortable silence instead of an awkward one. I think she might even doze a little during the drive.
I like that she’s relaxed enough that she can sleep—that she feels safe with me.
“I had a really nice time tonight,” she says when we’re standing at her door, bathed in the soft yellow glow of her porch light.
“Yeah, me too.” I reach for her hand and tug her close, wrapping my arms around her. It’s just a hug—or it’s justsupposedto be a hug—but my body ignites at the feel of her against me. Before I realize what I’m doing, my hands are on her face and my forehead is pressed against hers, my heart hammering as I feel the exhale of her breath on my lips.
“Adam, I really want you to kiss me goodnight,” she says.
I breathe out a sigh. “I really want to kiss you goodnight. But…”
She leans back and looks up to meet my eye, her expression curious. “But?”
“But I’m not…ready to kiss you yet.”
Her mouth opens like she might say something, but then she closes it again, pausing before finally saying, “Oh.”
“Trust me. It’s not that I don’t want to. I do. But…next time, okay?”
She nods, but I can see the confusion in her hazel eyes, mixed with what looks like a little bit of hurt.
“Laney, this has been the best first date I’ve ever been on. The best dateperiod. I promise…there will be a next time.”
She offers a hesitant smile. “I would really love that.”
I would too.
