Page 38 of New Nebraska Home

“Was it lonely?” Liz’s eyes widened, and she looked down at the ground. I didn’t think she had actually meant to ask me that.

“Yes,” I said honestly. “That was the main reason I considered settling down. Finding a place where I belonged, and a family, has always been a pipe dream for me, and I decided that it was time to stop pretending I didn’t want it.”

It may have been too much, too soon to admit that, and I didn’t want to scare her off, but something told me that Liz could handle the truth. More than that, she would be upset if I gave her anything other than the whole truth. Somehow, I just knew she would not judge me for it. She would not look at me differently or treat me any differently if I showed her who I really was.

She was silent for a few more moments as I pulled down another box from the shelves for her to sort. We were only two boxes away from the extra pieces of the table.

“Since we’re being honest, can I ask you a personal question?”

“Of course,” she said, smiling. “It doesn’t mean I’ll answer, but you can ask.”

“Why did you stay here?”

“What do you mean? This is my home.”

“I get that, but all the other humans took off. The governments paid handsomely for their houses, so they left. Why didn’t you? Leif is a halfling, but he’s half-Fae, and they aren’t required to stay in New Nebraska. Why not start over in somewhere like Kansas or Texas?”

“I thought about it for all of thirty seconds. This house is everything to me. I got the chance to grow up here, and even though our situation wasn’t always great, I never had to worry about having a roof over my head or finding somewhere safe because I had this home. I’m not going to sit here and pretend that Leif and I have the same upbringing or the same challenges that we have to face. But I don’t want him to face even more prejudice outside New Nebraska and I want him to know the good parts of our family. I feel like if we leave, we’re abandoning our roots.”

“Having roots must be nice,” I said, not looking up.

When I set the last box on the ground, I took a seat next to it and helped her open it to see what was inside. This one was full of kitchenware: large casserole dishes and serving platters, all carefully wrapped in newspaper from the ‘70s.

“Can I ask you another personal question?” I asked.

She nodded.

“Are you dating anyone?”

Her cheeks flushed a beautiful pink as she unwrapped another large baking dish.

“No, I’m not. I’m actually not looking for anything serious. I left a disappointing relationship a while back, and I’m not looking for another one.”

“Disappointing, how?” I wanted to rip apart any man who had ever disappointed her or made her feel any type of negative emotion. On the other hand, I also kind of wanted to hug the guy because where they had failed, I would not.

“Oh, you know. Youthful infatuation. Something starts out all hot and heavy, and you think it’s going to go somewhere, but they disappoint you and get distracted by a hot blonde that lives with you… your sister. The usual.”

“Your sister?”

“Yeah, my most serious boyfriend left me for her. The joke’s on her because he knocked her up and skipped town.”

“So you just have terrible taste in men?” I teased. This was the longest conversation I’d had since I could remember. Usually, I hated talking to people, answering their questions, or trying to come up with witty banter. But this was easy. This felt natural.

“I’m hoping my tastes are improving as I get older, but I still don’t know if it’s worth risking.” The way her eyes traveled up and down my body, I knew exactly what she was thinking, and my God, did it make me feel good.

“Well, that depends on what exactly you’re going to be risking. Are you talking about risking your heart, your peace of mind, your body?”

“You know, that’s a good point. Maybe I’m not ready to risk anything. Maybe I’m just looking to have a little fun.”

“And what kind of fun are you thinking about?” I was toying with her now, trying to get her flustered. I wanted to know if she would say it, and I wanted to see how far she would let me push her on this.

“Flirting, maybe a little more,” she said with a sly smile on her lips.

“What’s more?”

I thought I was in control; but she was letting me think I was the one toying with her. Because when she stood up and brushed the dust from her legs, I had no idea she was going to slide her body onto my lap, lace her fingers in my hair, and then pull my lips down to hers.

Her kiss was the sweetest thing I had ever tasted. She tasted like freedom of the wind blowing in your face and the sweetness of summer strawberries.

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