Page 107 of The Pocket Pair

“Is that why you’re here, Chevy—to talk about heart words?”

I’m afraid for a moment he’s going to say he’s here to stop me from going. Despite my fears about flying, nervousness about moving to a whole new country with a lot of unknowns, and the temptation it might be if Chevy asks me to stay, I can’t escape the sense that I need to go. For me. I don’t want him to make me choose.

Though if he asks … the temptation to NOT get on the flying metal death sausage will be very, very real.

Chevy takes a step closer until we’re toe to toe, my hand still in his. He squeezes my fingers, and I suck in a breath, clinging to what I hope isn’t a foolish hope.

“I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life, Tiny. I’m sure I’ll make a million more. But I can’t let you leave without telling you how I feel—how I really feel—and what I want for us.”

US. He said us! There is still an us!

“I’m listening,” I say.

Chevy licks his lips and shifts, wincing slightly. “I’ve had a lot of hang-ups because of my dad. I know it’s dumb, but I really believed I couldn’t—or shouldn’t—have a committed relationship because of his mistakes.”

“Chevy—”

“I know. It’s stupid and untrue, and I should never have thought that. The other day at the station, my half-brother tracked me down.”

I gasp. “That guy was your half-brother?”

He nods, jaw clenching. “He’s been writing me, and I returned all the letters. That’s what you saw in the kitchen. I thought I’d processed a lot of this when you and I started dating, but really, I just stuffed it down and tried to ignore it. Seeing him brought it all back to the surface.”

Oh, Chevy. I’ve had my own fair share of angst because of my mom leaving and my sisters pretty much wanting nothing to do with me. But I also had Mari, sure and steady and so full of love. Whenever I did want to talk about Mom or was sad about her leaving, Mari talked me through it and held me while I cried. I didn’t stuff it down. I worked through it.

Chevy lost his mom, and his dad was living a huge lie. I know he and Winnie both didn’t tell anyone at first when they found out—not even each other. I can’t imagine all the hurt that might be stored up inside him.

Now, I’m the one squeezing his fingers. My lip trembles as I say, “I’m so sorry, Chevy.”

“I know. And I know if I’d told you that day instead of freezing you out, you would have been there for me. I’ve just never been good at this. Relationships. Talking about feelings. Even admitting my feelings.”

He pauses, then lets go of my hand to tenderly brush his fingers over my cheek. His hand slides back to cradle the back of my head.

“Even good feelings.” He licks his lips, looking suddenly nervous. “Like, for example, I haven’t told you I love you, Tiny.”

I’d love to say I play this cool. But instantly I’m smiling and crying at the same time.

Not cool, Val. Not even a little cool.

I sniff. “Happy tears. Go on. You were just saying that you love me?”

“I do,” he says, grinning. “I love you. I really, really do. And being a man not very in touch with his emotions—”

Somewhere behind him, Winnie snorts. I glare, realizing there is a whole crowd of people standing around, listening and watching. My mustachioed security guard shushes Winnie, whispering, “Don’t ruin the moment.”

“But that’s my brother,” she says. “It’s my familial obligation to give him a hard time.”

I catch her eye. “And you’re my friend. And you have a friend obligation to not ruin this. I know where all your bodies are buried.”

There are a few gasps, and the security guard nearest Winnie takes a step back.

“Not real bodies,” I add. “Metaphorical ones. Anyway.”

“Where was I?” Chevy asks.

“You were about to tell me about your emotions.”

“Ah, right. Yes. Emotions.” His smile tilts, making him look boyish. Not just boyish, but the kind of boy who just got caught with both hands in the cookie jar and isn’t even a little sorry about it. “I love you, Val. But I’m not good at saying how I feel, much less acting on it. I don’t know how to do relationships. My instinct is to run when I’m scared. To stuff things down and pretend they don’t exist.”

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