Page 17 of Came the Closest

Because, you know, of course it is.

Colton’s hands steady me on my shoulders, but instead of easy amusement in his lake water blue eyes, they’re cloudy. He blinks before I can study it deeper, and I wonder if I only imagined it. Seriousness and Colton rarely belong in the same category.

“Careful,” Colton murmurs. For a moment I think it’s because of our collision, until his mouth curls. “If Ember sees us, she might think we’re in the middle of a classic bookstore meet cute.”

“A classic bookstore meet cute?”

“Yeah,” he says, and I resist a shiver when his thumb brushes the inside of my elbow. “It’s indubitable.”

“Indubitable?” I repeat, because apparently, I’m incapable of my own words.

“Yes,” he says. He leans slightly to the left. “It’s indubitable that two souls who meet in a bookstore will go on to live a romance-novel-worthy love story.”

Frowning, I glance over my shoulder. And then, despite myself, I laugh as I turn back to Colton. “You big weirdo. You were reading that off the sign on the wall.”

Colton’s eyes widen and he presses a dramatic hand to his heart. “Me? No. I’d have to know how to read.”

“Yeah, well, I think you just learned.”

He winks at me, and inadvisably, my heart skips. I know I shouldn’t, but I wish this truly was that—a meet cute. Instead of Colton and Cheyenne, best friends turned lovers turned strangers, we could be Man and Woman with no history, bumping into one another in the aisle of a quaint bookstore.

The perfect, idyllic meet cute. I would tuck my hair behind my ear, touch my necklace, and notice the dimple hidden beneath his dark beard. He would ask me to go to dinner, and I’d tell him yes, but only if we went right then. One date would turn into two, two into twenty, and twenty into a lifetime of recalling that one moment when the stars aligned for us. How, if one of us had left a moment sooner or walked in a moment later, we might have only came the closest to this fateful meeting.

That’s not reality, though. Reality is knowing Colton’s worn that faded Dairy Dock t-shirt for a decade, he started trimming his beard until he stopped because he nicked himself just under his chin, and…and he lost his temper on a live podcast.

Because of my dad.

I take a step back, and his hand falls away. “I, uh, need to check out.”

Sadness laces his own half-hearted smile. “If this were a meet cute, I’d say you’re more than welcome to check me out.”

“That would be more ideal at a library.”

“No,” he says with a soft shake of his head. “If it were a library meet cute, I’d say our meeting was long overdue, but that you look quite fine in that pretty blue sundress.”

I’m wearing linen shorts and a sweatshirt. “Are those lines on the wall behind me too?”

“Nah.” He taps his temple with his knuckles. The movement tugs his tee tightly across his shoulders. “I have a shelf reserved for them up here.”

I shake my head. “You’re impossible.”

Colton opens his mouth to respond, undoubtedly with another wisecrack, but Graham interrupts.

“Here to get a break from the guardianship thing? We all know it isn’t for books.”

Guardianship thing?

My eyes meet Colton’s eyes in silent question, and his are troubled again. It looks so out of place on his face that I swallow. I’d heard about the appearance of a Del Ray sister last fall, but I thought she was eighteen.

Unless.

My lungs deflate.

Unless Colton has a child.

The notion makes it difficult to breathe. It’s not like it’s impossible given his reputation, but still. It makes it seem final, this chasm between us. Like the embers of hope I didn’t realize I’ve been sheltering are about to be snuffed out. Like our banter from moments ago was one last hoorah before it’s all over.

Graham looks between us when Colton says nothing. “Uh, never…mind?”