Page 12 of Feels Like Home

And his boys had a birthdayrecently.

Andy had posted some stuff about their big day on his social media pages, which I’ve been stalking like acreeper.

Because I suddenly can’t get the man out of my head no matter what Ido.

Christmas is just around the corner, the weather is cold, and the coffee shop is busier than ever. It’s about thirty minutes from closing time, and it’s finally died down for the night, giving me a few moments to clean up behind thecounter.

The door opens, allowing a cool gust of wind in along with Andy. His black beanie pulled down low makes his already dark-rimmed eyes look even darker. Even covered by the beanie, I can tell that his hair has grown out some since the last time I saw him, the almost-black strands softly curling out from underit.

He stomps off the snow stuck to his brown boot-covered feet, strides over to the counter, eyes on me the entire time. His jeans hug his thighs as he walks towardme.

I realize it’s not the right time to be having these thoughts, but holy crap he looksgood.

“Hey,Christine.”

I swallow at the intensity of the look on his face. “Hey Andy, how’s itgoing?”

He stares at me for a few beats, notanswering.

“Andy?”

His hands spread across the counter, and he leans in close. “Wanna get out ofhere?”

His question stuns me, but only for amoment.

“Sure.”

He raps his knuckles on the counter twice then nods his head toward thedoor.

“Emma, I’m out of here for the night!” I holler to the back room without taking my eyes off Andy. “Can you finish uphere?”

“Sure thing! See youtomorrow!”

Without another word, I follow Andy out the front door. It’s December in Michigan, but I don’t even take the time to grab my coat. For reasons I don’t understand, I know that he’ll not leave me out in the cold, so right now it’s the least of myconcerns.

He holds the passenger door open for me, and I climb in, but before closing it he stares at me again. I let him for a moment before wrapping my fingers around his hand that’s resting on thedoor.

He looks at my hand on his and swallows hard. His Adam’s apple rising andfalling.

“Hey. Let’s go for a drive,” I tell himquietly.

He slowly nods his head a few times before closing the door and rounding thehood.

Once he’s in the seat and we’re both buckled up, he backs out of his parking spot and heads out oftown.

He reaches over and pushes the button that looks like a seat warmer on the dash to switch on my heated seat and turns the channel on the radio. It’s set to a country station but the music is turned down so low I can barely make anythingout.

The near silence should bother me. Make menervous.

Itdoesn’t.

“The boys gonetonight?”

“Spending the night with abud.”

I relax into my seat, resting my head on the headrest, and look out the window. We pass through the town slowly, admiring the Christmas lights that twinkle both inside and outside of homes. A few snowmen are proudly on display in front yards from the early snowstorms we’vereceived.

We drive past my best friend Carly’s house. It’s lit up beautifully. Classy. Tastefully. Just likeher.

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