Page 19 of Reeve

“In Anchorage.”

“Yes.”

“Why Anchorage?”

“Best nursing program in the stateanda giant scholarship.”

His consternation fades for just a second. “A scholarship? That’s awesome.”

“I know,” I say, feeling proud of myself. “I’m pumped.”

“So, Anchorage is the game plan? The ‘live your life’ plan? Where you plan to stay? Indefinitely?”

“Forever?No! No, of course not.” To be frank, I hadn’t given much thought to what happensaftermy four-year nursing program, but my words come so easily, it’s clear that my heart already has ideas of its own, and they include coming home. “I love Skagway. I want to come back and practice nursing here. Near my family. Near the people I…I love.”

“Then—”

“But I need to break awayfirst. I need boundaries,” I say firmly, putting McKenna’s advice into action. “And the first one needs to be between my life here and my life in Anchorage.”

His eyebrows furrow. “Why?”

“Because here in Skagway, I’ll always be ‘little Reeve,’ ‘the little sister.’ I need to show them that I’m an adult.”

“And you can’t do that here.”

“No,” I tell him honestly. “I can’t. Unless I make a change that shows my family that I’m an adult, fully capable of making my own decisions, they won’t believe it. I have toshowthem how I want to be treated. Not like a little kid. Not anymore.”

“Yeah, okay.” He nods. “I get it.”

“Do you?” I ask, reaching for his arm. “Because I want you to get it, Aaron. I want you to understand. The thought that I might have hurt your feelings earlier had me in knots for the whole train—”

“Go out with me.”

“What?”

“I want to take you out on a date. A real one. Before you go.”

“What’s the point? I’m leaving.”

“Thatisthe point,” he says. “I want you to have the memory of going out on a date with me when you’re up there in Anchorage with all those college boys.”

My fingers squeeze around the rough canvas of his jacket.

“Having the memory of a great date with you might make it harder for me to leave,” I murmur.

“Nonetheless,” he says, his eyes soft and pleading. “I’m asking.”

How can I ensure that things between us don’t go too far? How do I protect my heart? There’s only one way.

“I’ll go,” I tell him, sliding my hand from his arm. “But as a friend. No holding hands or—or kissing, or declarations, or anything else. Just two friends going out to dinner. That’s it.”

“That doesn’t sound like a date,” he says.

“Then the answer’s no.”

“Okay, fine,” he says, holding out his hand. “Friends.”

I reach for it, letting him enfold mine in his. “Deal.”

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