Page 37 of From Nowhere

“Well, it was good to see you. Sort of,” Maren murmurs, before turning and navigating her way past the M.

I sigh, having no choice but to walk down behind her.

“That came out all wrong,” I say.

Maren keeps walking, rocks crunching beneath her trail shoes. “No. I think it came out as intended. No biggie.”

When Lola’s adequately out of earshot, I make a better case for myself. “It is a biggie. I like you. And I want to go out again, but I don’t know how to navigate dating while raising a snoopy ten-year-old who has recently decided she desperately wants me to find someone to date. On top of that, her grandparents, whose help I need, don’t want me to have any sort of life outside raising Lola. So I have to lie and sneak around, and I’m not good at it. But—”

Maren stops, and I nearly bump into her. “But what?” She turns to me, crosses her arms over her chest.

Are we having our first fight? After one date?

Maren is beautiful when she’s mad. Maybe it’s the breeze in her hair or the sun on her face. But her cheeks are red, and her eyes look extra blue today.

I want to kiss her. I’ve wanted to kiss her since our date.

“But maybe I can get good at it,” I say.

She tightens her brow. “Good at what? Sneaking around?”

The more my grin swells, the more her eyes narrow.

“Yeah. Do you want to sneak around with me?”

“I’m not fourteen, Ozzy.” She rolls her eyes and pivots, continuing down the trail.

“No. But wasn’t fourteen fun? I loved my teen years. Not a real care in the world. Hormones raging out of control. Weekends were two days of nonstop shenanigans with friends. And there was nothing more exhilarating than sneaking around.”

Maren chuckles, shakes her head, and alternates her gait between cautious steps and a slow jog while she navigates the dips and bumps of the descent. “That’s not real anymore. You actually haverealcares in the world.”

“Not twenty-four seven. I found time to wrangle chickens with you.”

“I don’t buy it. You were the one who said we should take it slow because your life is complicated. And I was fine with it, but slow shouldn’t mean you can’t even send me the occasional text.”

“I didn’t want to lead you on or give you false hope.”

She shoots me a quick glance over her shoulder. “But now you want to sneak around? When did you change your mind?”

“Literally the second the words left my mouth,” I say while scratching the back of my head and trying not to smile until I’m sure she won’t kill me for downplaying my inability to date a woman properly.

“You gave me flowers and notes,” she says.

“Is that wrong? Or weird? It probably seems cheap since I’m not buying the flowers. But—”

Maren turns 180 degrees, and I almost run into her. “Wrong? Weird? Cheap?” She narrows her eyes. “Ozzy, I tied twine around the stems, dried them upside down to keep them indefinitely, and attached the note to the bouquet too. Then I waited for you to call or text me.”

I smirk. “You liked the flowers.”

Maren rolls her eyes and heads the rest of the way down the trail.

I should have called.

By the time we reach the steps at the parking lot, Lola has a kitten in her arms.

“Whose is that?” I ask, catching up to Maren and passing her to deal with Lola and her googly eyes.

“No one’s. It’s all alone. I found him by that bush, crying.”

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