Page 64 of The One I Love
“You never have to thank me,” he says. “And I also want you to know—I promise that once people do know—we’re going to make time for ourselves. Are we going to go out with the group? Yes. Is Betsy likely chomping at the bit for a double date? I’m sure. Will we go on said group date and take pictures to send to Simon because we can? Absolutely. And we’re going to do stuff with the kids, and our families, and probably have to have standing Sunday dinners with our mothers. But never, and I mean never, will we forget aboutourtime. I’ll make sure of that.”
I lean in and take Shane’s face in my hands, kissing him with nothing short of love.
Love. Holy shit. Am I in love with Shane? I mean, in a sense, I always have been. But it’s too early, right? We just started this. I can’t beinlove with Shane. I care for him. Yes, that’s it. Because you don’t fall in love with a person after a few weeks of dating and a few orgasms, right?
“Now,” he says as he slowly pulls away. “I’m going to go stand in that long-ass line to get you peanut butter crunch ice cream with chocolate syrup on top. You go over there and snag that picnic table for us. That work?”
“You know my ice cream order?”
He kisses my nose, which somehow sends shivers through me. “I can’t believe you thought I didn’t.”
Shane gets out of the truck, and because I forget, I get out as well. I see him shoot me a look once he realizes what I’ve done, but I just laugh and shrug it off as I go take a seat at an open picnic table. I use the time to check my text messages to make sure I haven’t missed any from Luke or Mariah, and to check their locations. The dots are pointing to where they told me they were going to be, which makes me let out a breath. It always does. I trust my children. They are good kids who have never given me cause for worry. Okay, Mariah has, but she has a few more years before she’ll get into the sneaking-out stage. Hopefully. But at least I know she’s at the party then staying with Wes and Betsy until I come pick her up. That, and Emerson will call the cops herself if Mariah tries to act up.
Speaking of…
Betsy: How’s date night *winky face*
Amelia: Great. We’re getting ice cream now.
Betsy: Nice. Use it for later…
Amelia: Stop it. We’re eating it like normal. Plus, Shane isn’t spending the night. Not with Mariah home.
Betsy: Kids? What kids? Mariah is staying the night here.
Amelia: Since when?
Betsy: Since now.
Amelia: You don’t have to do that…
Betsy: I know. But I am. Have fun and don’t do anything I wouldn’t. (For reference, that’s not a lot.)
Amelia: I’m so glad you’re in our lives.
Betsy: Yeah yeah, I’m great. Now, go get some. Talk to you tomorrow! Also, I know it may sound boring, but I recommend vanilla.
All I can do is laugh and shake my head as I put my phone away. I’m so glad Betsy came into Wes’s life, and therefore ours. She’s been the breath of fresh air he needed, and I must say, she’s also the friend I didn’t know I needed in my life.
I check out the line to see Shane’s progress. It’s busy tonight, which makes sense given it’s a hot June Tennessee night, and I’m pleasantly surprised to see that he’s only two people back. What also surprises me is that he’s chatting with a woman.
Shane doesn’t chat. Even if being polite, he’d give one-word answers. Yet, he seems to be actually having a conversation.
Do I know her? Is it someone from Rolling Hills? We’re about a half hour outside of town, so it wouldn’t be shocking to see someone we knew, but I also didn’t expect to. Hence why we came out here for date night.
I tilt my head to try to get a better of a look at her, but I don’t seem to recognize her. She’s about my height at five-foot-five, with blonde hair that is currently piled up on top of her head in that way that’s not supposed to look on purpose but is. She’s wearing leggings that might as well be painted on and a tight tank top like she just came from the gym. Her body is lean and toned, and I can’t help but put my arm around my not-flat stomach. I catch myself doing it, and try to put it down, but I can’t help it. Old habits die hard when you’re watching the man you are quickly falling for talking to a gorgeous woman.
But it’s not just that she’s beautiful; it’s how she’s looking at Shane. Smiling at him. It’s genuine. Like they’re old friends. Not over-the-top flirty like Emily. When I reacted the way I did at The Joint last week, I knew in the back of my mind Shane would never do anything with her. That reaction was a result of years of bullying, trauma, and being fed up with her and the shenanigans of her crew. This? Watching this is a hit straight to the gut. Because Shane knows her.
Likeknowsher.
And this feeling isn’t one I was prepared to deal with tonight. Which I know isn’t rational. Shane is a man. I know he’s dated. He might not have brought them around, and he might not have called it dating, but I know he wasn’t sitting at home every night alone. I guess I never thought I’d have to see it.
Which, again, is stupid. We’re adults. We have pasts and baggage.
I see him walking toward me, waving goodbye to the woman as he brings over my sundae and his banana split.
“For my lady,” he says. “And I got extra napkins because I don’t want to get back up.”
