Page 29 of Moving Forward

I tuck stray strands of hair behind my ears that I know for a fact are damp. “You’re just saying that. I probably look like I’ve completed a marathon.”

“You look beautiful to me,” he says in a husky voice. “So, breakfast at sunrise?”

I blush. “Breakfast at sunrise,” I repeat, and let him lead me the rest of the way.

###

The place he’s brought me to overlooks Orchard Valley, the orange light of the sunrise barely visible beyond the horizon. It’s breathtakingly beautiful and peaceful. Cain kneels in front of me, rummaging through the basket. He pulls out two small individual milk bottles and two plastic-wrapped plates. He unwraps one and hands it to me, along with a fork and one of the bottles of milk.

He shoots me a shy, boyish grin as he forks a small piece into his mouth. “Blueberry-peach coffee cake.”

I take a bite of mine and let out a tiny moan. His cooking tastes like heaven. He watches me, his gaze burning, pupils dilated like they were back in the truck, causing my body to heat up. Just friends. Just friends. But he’s too focused on my mouth for that mantra to convince me.

I deflect those thoughts by taking a drink and focusing on my cake. “Peaches again?”

“Wha—?” he mumbles, finally tearing his attention away. The muscles in his jaw pop as he deliberately takes a swig of his own drink, letting his gaze fall on anything but me.

“Peaches. Are you obsessed with them or something?”

He frowns, not quite comprehending me.

“Peach pie. Peach tea. Peach coffee cake.”

“Yeah. Right,” he says, clueing in. “Grams buys them in bulk every summer. They were my grandpa’s favorite fruit.”

“Mine too,” I tell him. He looks up at me hopefully. I don’t understand it, but it seems like that was something he needed to hear. My next words come out before I can help myself. I just feel the need to confess everything to him. “Ethan was allergic to them. I didn’t know. That’s a big thing not to know about a man I planned to marry. Sorry—I’m such a downer.”

“No, you’re not,” he disagrees. “I’m sure you would have found out eventually.”

“Maybe. Sometimes it felt like he thought he had to be his best self for me. I never asked for perfection, only honesty. A peach allergy was never something he needed to hide.”

“Not feeling like you measure up can mess with a person. I know a thing or two about feeling that way.”

“I wish you didn’t. Honesty, not perfection,” I repeat, because I want him to know that’s what I expect from him too.

“I want nothing more than to be honest with you, Max. Just give me time, okay?”

His eyes are pleading. I’m liable to give him forever if he asks. I somehow manage to stay strong and ask, “It doesn’t have to be today or tomorrow, but someday you’ll tell me the exact reason why you beat up Ethan?”

His lips form a thin line and I can tell he’s deliberating. Whatever happened, it’s hard for him to talk about. But I know if I can talk about Ethan, he can talk about his past. He’s strong too.

“I will,” he finally agrees. He sets his plate aside and leans back on his forearms as if a burden has been lifted.

I finish the rest of my meal and lean back too. I can live with his promise for now, as long as he keeps it. I want a relationship, even a platonic one, that is more mature than what I had with Ethan. I loved Ethan and I will never regret saying yes to his proposal, but I’ll also never let someone break my trust like that again.

If Ethan hadn’t been so afraid of commitment, our relationship would have been built on a stronger foundation. I never would have spent so much time second-guessing him and his love.

Cain’s hand slowly moves across the blanket until his pinky is touching mine. That’s enough to pull the depression from my heart. Thoughts of death and pain dissipate until I’m only focusing on the present and Cain.

“Hey, Peaches,” he whispers, his breath dancing along the length of my neck. I turn my head to the side to look at him. He reaches over with his other hand and brushes my hair away from my face. “Look at the sunrise.”

###

I’m vaguely aware of birds singing and the wind blowing on my skin when I blink my eyes open, trying to figure out where I am. I remember drifting off after about two hours of lying on the blanket with Cain. I groan and shield my eyes from the sun.

“Definitely not a morning person,” Cain drawls tiredly. He yawns and rolls over onto his back, one arm resting beneath his head as a pillow. The other one shoots out to lightly tap my shoulder. “Looks like you got some sun.”

I wince. “How long have we been asleep?”

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