“Come on, Kitten,” Brian coaxes Trista out of the car, half carrying her.
“Walk you to your door?” I offer Phoebe.
“I’ll probably invite you to stay if you do,” she informs me with a quiet voice and my heart rate doubles.
“Is that a bad thing?”
“You tell me.” She cocks her head to the side. “So far, you’ve been the one rejecting my offers to stay.”
“I’m going to walk you to your door,” I declare, pulling her to me. “And tuck you in, and then make sure you don’t sleep a wink all night.”
I lean down and kiss her on the corner of her mouth, brushing my fingers against her cheek.
“I like that plan,” she whispers, tilting her head to the side to meet my lips when suddenly my phone rings with the ThunderCats theme song, and my pulse starts racing for entirely different reasons.
“Andy?” Phoebe places a hand on my cheek with a worried gaze, and I kiss her palm before answering.
“Jonah, you okay?”
“I can’t… I can’t breathe, it… it hurts too much.” His voice is a choked whisper from the strain and pain, and I swear under my breath, rushing back to the driver’s seat. “It’s too much, Andrew.”
“I’m on my way, don’t move a muscle until I get there,” I order him, pressing mute and turning to Phoebe. “I’ll get your car back tomorrow.”
“You want me to come with you?”
“No. Look, could you call Jonah’s brother, Micah?” I ask, remembering she took his number at open mic night. “He’s closer than I am.”
“Sure.” Phoebe hurries to pull out her phone, looking at me with a half-panicked gaze. “Will Jonah be okay?”
“He has to be.” And with that, I put the car in gear and speed off, swearing the entire drive as I fight off the migraine threatening to burst, hoping I can someday do right by Jonah for all the damage and pain I caused him.
Chapter Twenty-One
Andy
“Honey?” my mom calls from the kitchen, so I drop the shears and pull off my gardening gloves. Wiping the sweat off my brow, I walk inside, and I’m greeted with a pitcher of lemonade. I wash my hands and sniff the glass my mom hands me just to make sure it isn’t Yellow Daisy before taking a sip.
“What’s up?” I ask once I’ve taken a seat and snatched one of the halves of a homemade corned beef sandwich with relish and mustard my mom set on the table for me.
“Lola and Nona want to take a ladies' trip to Cancun,” Mom informs me with a smile.
“Sounds great,” I say, taking another bite. She, Lola, and Jonah’s mom, Nona, are all good friends. We call them “the mom squad,” and I know they’ll have a good time together.
“Jonah seems to be back on track after you were there for the past week, and since you’ve been doing better lately, I want to go with them.”
“You should go, no matter how I feel. I’m an adult, and you deserve a life of your own,” I maintain, tossing my partially eaten sandwich back onto the plate.
“That’s not how it works, Andy.” She pats my cheek. “You’ll understand when you have kids of your own.”
“You’re going to Cancun,” I determine. “For as long as you want and need.”
“Two weeks,” she declares.
“Perfect.” I grin. “I promise no crazy parties.”
“I hope you break that promise.” She winks at me, and I chuckle, picking up my phone as I resume my snack, and she goes to tell the ladies she’s in on the trip.
Andy:
Now that you’re finally alone...
Phoebe:
Leanne is still here with Bodie. We were just sitting down for a snack.
Andy:
Staying the week to help you with the grand opening preparations for the inn doesn't count. It’s work.
Phoebe:
Fair point. What are we doing?
Andy:
Be ready tonight at 8 PM, and wear pants.
At exactly six, I’m stationed in front of the cabin, two helmets in hand, and a bit of a nervous flare.
“Oh.” Phoebe looks at the helmets. “So, we’re really doing this? Now?”
“Yes, we are, Curls,” I affirm. “We’re staying within town limits, so don’t worry.”
I expected more of a fight, but Phoebe takes the helmet I hand her without too much fuss and slips it over her head, clasping it in place.
“Let’s go, Surfer Boy,” she orders, and I can’t help but chuckle as I climb on my Yamaha Ténéré 700 and motion to Phoebe to climb behind me.
Her yelp of surprise when I rev the motor is heard even through the barriers of both our helmets, and I pat her thigh, enjoying how tight she’s holding onto me as I ride, stopping at a patch of thick woods.
“What is this place?” Phoebe asks. I take her hand and lead her through the trees until we reach a clearing, and her awe-filled sounds mirror my own as we watch a plateau of fireflies’ dance over a field of flowers.
“This place is the reason so many establishments in the Grove are named after fireflies.”
“It’s beautiful.” She gazes out to the field, her eyes soft and full of tender emotion.
“Run,” I instruct. It takes Phoebe a second to snap out of her trance and register that I even spoke to her.
“What?”
“Run,” I repeat.
“Only if you chase me.” She starts walking backward when she says that, and before I can react, she sprints away, and I start after her, a swarm of fireflies swirling into the dark blue sky above us as we run and laugh like children.
I’m so immersed that I don’t notice when Phoebe comes to an abrupt stop and turns, causing me to crash into her. My arms instinctively catch her, and those gray eyes gleam at me in the darkness, the arcs of her lips still stretched in a smile as she looks up. And it’s only a question of if I have the balls to bow my head and kiss her.
My arms tighten around Phoebe as her eyes turn a stormy gray, and her arms circle my neck. Over five years have passed since she last looked at me this way, but I remember that gaze as if it were yesterday.
It’s what kept me going when things got really hard, during my tours, and with my mom, the hope that someday I would have Phoebe look at me like this again. It’s also the reason I could never move on, give my heart to another woman. Phoebe is the only one who ever managed to spark every cell in my body to life with nothing but a look.
And that look is all the consent I need. Pulling Phoebe close and molding my mouth onto hers, her body melts into mine, and I have my affirmation that this is really going to happen.
“Do you remember your Ford Mustang?” She breaks the kiss to ask, and I can’t help the grin spreading across my face at the memory.
“Yeah, we had some good times in the back— Oh.” Realization hits me, and I grab her hand, pulling her toward my bike.