Page 80 of A Class of Her Own

He pulled up his shirt sleeve to give me my first full glimpse of his forearm tattoo. “My tattoo is a compass. I got it when my fiancée left me. It symbolizes finding your true north and navigating the unfolding journey.” It wasn’t very big, maybe two inches across, and beautiful in its simplicity. I reached out to run a fingertip over it, and his arm tensed slightly under my touch. “I think it’s brought me good luck.”

“What about the one on your chest?” I asked.

He pulled his collar down to give me a view. There was a light dusting of dark hair that tried to catch my attention, but I pulled my eyes away to inspect the design. It was a thin circle with a single pine tree in the middle. Chills raced down my spine when I saw it, and a lump rose in my throat. It felt meaningful in a way he couldn’t possibly understand. If Willow were here, she’d be dancing and cheering, but my heart almost refused to beat.

“It represents the ability to grow and adapt,” he whispered, clearly picking up on my emotion.

I shocked myself by laying my fingertips across it. His chest was warm and firm, and I could feel my own heartbeat in my fingertips where they pressed against him.

“It’s my name,” I whispered back. “Evergreen. It’s my first name. Meredith is my middle name.” I looked up at him, still touching his chest. “I’ve never told anyone that. Even my best friends don’t know.”

“It might be an unusual name, but evergreens are survivors. I think it suits you.”

I wrinkled my nose and started to pull my hand away, but he snatched it and pressed it against his chest. “I’ll never call you a name you hate, and I won’t tell anyone else. But you are not who I thought you were, Evergreen Atwood.” He watched me closely. “I’ve been paying attention for a while now, trying to figure you out, and every layer I peel back makes you more and more interesting to me.”

My head felt like it was floating off my body as his eyes closed and his head came towards mine. I knew that this kiss was going to be different. It was going to mean more. Walls had come down today, and, while I wanted the connection with him, I was terrified right up until the moment his lips pressed against mine. My head immediately reattached to my body and brought with it a rush of heat and wonder. The hand against his chest grabbed at his shirt and made a fist of it even as my other hand worked around his shoulders to run along the back of his neck. His kiss had been soft and questioning, but when my hand ran into the hair curling at the back of his neck, he deepened it. He wrapped both arms around me and tugged me close, and I leaned into it. I wanted to climb into his lap and make sure there was no space between us.

The strength I’d always sensed in him came to the forefront. The things I’d pushed against and fought with were now surrounding me in a cocoon that felt at once exciting and protective. This was so much. Too much, maybe. Our other kisses had been exploring and discovering, but this kiss felt like melding and accepting. I released his shirt and put my hand against his face as I pulled away, both of us breathing hard.

“Just . . . one second,” I mumbled.

His arms immediately loosened, his hands becoming soothing as they ran along my spine. “That was . . .”

I nodded. “Definitely. And if you, uh, don’t want this to mean anything, I’m really good at . . .”

He playfully pinched at my waist, and I jumped. “Don’t do that. Especially after a kiss that clearly meant something. You can’t shove what’s happening between us into a little logical box.”

I dropped my hands from him and scowled. “I do not force things into boxes.”

He grinned and released me. “You do. Right now, you’re wondering what to do with me. I’ve jumped from ‘annoying neighbor’ to ‘hunky, great kisser,’ and you’re trying to shove me back into ‘neighbor,’ but I won’t go.”

I stood and tugged my shirt down while fighting a laugh. “Hunky, great kisser?”

“Hey, I don’t make the labels, that’s your job.” He stood too and pushed my hair back behind my ears, causing a shiver to skitter across my scalp.

“I’m thinking more along the lines of ‘nosy, know-it-all.’”

His hands slid to either side of my neck, and he bent with a smile to press his mouth against mine once more. This time it was light, playful, comforting. As the kiss lingered I wrapped my hands around his forearms and held on tight.

When our lips parted he leaned his forehead against mine and said, “How about if you label my box ‘superhuman dreamboat?’”

His joke created some much-needed distance, and I headed back into my dad’s room, retrieving the comforter from where it had been draped across his rocking chair. Brooks followed me, reaching for one side to help me spread it out. It was so domestic I felt like I needed a slap across the face.

“That doesn’t feel accurate,” I replied, biting my lip to keep from grinning like a fool.

“You object?” he asked, stepping into my personal space. “Because I can give you another sample if you’d like.”

“It won’t change my mind. I already have you pegged as ‘thinks too highly of himself.’”

Quick as a striking snake, he had his arms around me and lifted me off my feet, pulling me up against him and hugging me close. His beard tickled at my face, and I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck, sinking into the feeling. This was the guy who climbed ladders and vacuumed floors and asked me if I needed space to process things. If there was a box for him, I’d simply label it ‘possibilities.’

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

I flopped down on the soft rug near Aryn’s yellow couch and looked up at the ceiling. The sun was down, but Aryn’s apartment was lit up like noonday. She was obsessed with light and always had lamps in addition to the overhead lights. Her furniture was bright, her throw pillows were bright, and all I wanted to do was crawl into comforting darkness.

“Hailey?” I waved a hand in the air to get her attention in the tiny, two-butt kitchen where my friends were packed in like sardines as they tried to prepare dinner together. “Hailey?”

“What?” she called back.

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