Page 10 of Spring Fling

I turn toward him, my chest aching for him. “I’m sorry.”

“It was a long time ago.” He shrugs, again, but there’s no mistaking the sadness in his eyes. “I don’t regret it. Not really. We just weren’t meant to be together. She wanted a life bigger than what we could find here. I wanted to stay.”

He clears his throat. “Neither of us was a bad person. But I think if we’d wanted to be together enough, we would have found a way.”

I nod, my throat again tight. “I understand. Some things just don’t work out. But I truly believe that sometimes they don’t work out, because we’re waiting for something else.”

He turns back to me. His expression more studious.

The air shifts between us, turning heavier, thicker. Like the moment before a clap of thunder. Slowly, he steps closer.

I don't back away.

His hand lifts, hovering near my cheek like he's not sure if he’s allowed to touch me.

My breath catches. I lean in without thinking, my eyes fluttering closed as the distance between us shrinks to a whisper.

His breath brushes over my mouth, leaving a hint of whiskey and chocolate.

A loud crash shatters the moment. We turn to find watering can tipping over onto a stone path nearby and a pile of upset soil.

I jerk back, startled. Wade straightens sharply, blinking.

A greenhouse volunteer, who can’t be more than sixteen, frantically scoops up spilled soil, his face burning bright.

“Sorry, sir.”

Wade chuckles. “That’s okay. It happens.”

For a beat, neither of us moves. Wade tilts his head toward the exit.

“You wanna get out of here?” he asks, voice pitched low. “There’s another place I’d like to show you.”

FOUR

WADE

The drive is short but it feels like my heart’s pounding the whole damn way.

My date sits next to me, her hands folded in her lap, her bare legs stretched out just enough to keep catching my attention.

The whole truck smells like her—like orange blossoms with a hint of honey and fresh air.

As I pull off the paved road onto a rough dirt track, she gives me a curious look. “Okay, do I need to be worried? You’re not taking me on a hike, are you?”

I frown. “Don’t you like hiking?”

I could have sworn her profile said she loves hiking.

“Not in these shoes.”

I chuckle low in my throat. “No, we’re not hiking.”

“Then what are we doing?”

“You’ll have to trust me.”

After another minute, the trees open up to a wide clearing. Steam flows up from a pool tucked into the rocks, misting the cool night air.

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