Page 29 of One Last Chance

Kash tilted his chin up defiantly. “From the side of the road,” he said. “I picked them all on my way here, it’s not a lie.”

I took the flowers from him and looked them over. They were beautiful, and masterfully arranged. “You picked these?”

“Every single one of them.” His eyes twinkled. He always did enjoy surprising me.

I buried my face in their heady scent and breathed deeply. Goosebumps rose over my arms and for a moment nothing mattered except him, and nothing existed outside of that fragrant little dip. The urge to kiss him was strong—but then I remembered why I was in such a hurry.

I hugged him quickly and squeezed hard. “Same time tomorrow?”

“Is that what you want?” He sounded so reserved it startled me. I looked up at him and I could see him bracing for rejection.

“Of course it is. Why wouldn’t it be?”

He shrugged, but his mask faltered just enough for me to catch a glimpse of his insecurity. “You didn’t seem so sure the other day.”

I scoffed, stunned. “You mean before I had all the facts? Kash.”

“Well, I mean, I don’t know.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, I want to see you tomorrow. Same time, same place. If that works for you.”

He nodded. “Does it work for your dad?”

I grimaced. “It better. God, I can’t wait to get the hell out of here.”

He relaxed again and I realized—even though he’d heard Dad give me instructions himself, he had managed to convince himself that I was making excuses to get away from him. I didn’t say anything, just shook my head, smiling in spite of myself.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I went home with a handful of posies and butterflies in my heart. How he could still give me butterflies after all this time was beyond me, but he managed it.

The next day went much more smoothly. Dad and Uncle Charlie had gone off into the woods to hunt something—beer cans, most likely—which left my entire evening free to spend with Kash. Since Dad was off shooting things, we wandered in the other direction, toward the creek.

“Remember when you and Hunter decided you were going to pull a Tom Sawyer down here?” I asked, pointing at the river.

Kash laughed. “It would have been a lot better if we hadn’t tried it in November. I’m still cold.”

“I bet. I’ve never seen anything break apart as fast as that raft did.”

“I told Hunter we needed more rope but no, he wanted to get out on the water faster.”

“He sure got into it pretty fast.”

Our knuckles had been brushing against each other’s as we walked, and Kash finally grabbed my hand. His warm, calloused palm dwarfed mine and his long, dexterous fingers engulfed my hand. It was the safest feeling in the world, being wrapped up in him. In that moment, I was certain that he would never hurt anyone. He certainly wouldn’t kill his best friend. The certainty was as warm as the sun on my back, and twice as pleasant.

But then I looked up at him and realized that the reason I felt so safe with him was the same reason some people felt safe with their Rottweilers. and pit bulls—he was dangerous, but he was on my side. He was safe because I knew he was willing and able to protect me from any threat, no matter how scary it was. What if Hunter had become a threat somehow?

“What’s up, buttercup? You look worried.”

I glanced up at him. “Stop reading my mind. Can’t help it when you put it all over your face. You’re thinking too hard.”

I sighed. “Maybe? But maybe not.”

I knew him as well as I knew myself. At least I thought I did. At least—how well did I even know myself, anyway?

He squeezed my hand. “How bout you tell me what you’re thinking, and I’ll tell you if you’re overthinking it?”

I sighed. It wasn’t fair. He had always been the person I’d gone to when I couldn’t make up my mind about somebody. He was always the person I’d trusted to give me the perspective I needed to figure a problem out. But how could he do that for me when he was the person in question? I couldn’t talk to Lizzie about something like this. She’d have an opinion, sure, but then so would the rest of the town within a few hours.

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