Page 117 of Take Me Home

“Haven’t you been at the café all afternoon?”

“Yes. But I know you have work to finish today, and I’m going to require your undivided attention later.”

“More optimism?” she teased.

“Always.”

She packed up her books and papers. He let his eyes drift down to see she’d chosen the wraparound skirt today, the one that looked like it would unwind with a simple tug. A solid choice. She was saying something about her dad, and he forced his brain back online. “He’s at the station this evening, so I need to call him early.”

Ash checked his watch. “You can call while we walk.”

“You sure?”

He motioned for her to go ahead and moved her bag from her shoulder to his own.

“Oh, and I sent you the hotel information for August,” she said.

As they walked leisurely to the parking lot and Hazel gushed about her research to her dad, Ash found an email with their hotel reservation on his phone. They were going to her old friend Franny’s wedding in August—another road trip, this one to Oklahoma City and hopefully less eventful, though if a hailstorm or tornado made them stop another night somewhere, he wouldn’t complain.

Sorry, she mouthed a few minutes later, phone still pressed to her ear, when he opened the passenger door to his Altima for her. He waved her off. He was glad she was sticking to their weekly call, that she and Dan seemed to be making progress.

As Ash rounded the car to the driver’s side, he passed by the custom sticker Hazel had snuck onto the back bumper that saidI VIBE TO PSYCHEDELIC SPACE TRANCE. “For old times’ sake,” she’d reasoned.

It wasn’t really like old times, though, and he was glad. Now, she rode in the front seat beside him. Now, he got to hold her hand, trace lazy designs on her thigh, lean over to kiss her at red lights. He got to hear all about her day.

Over the past four months, she’d gotten so comfortable in his car, he had her black hair ties in the cup holder, one of her reusable water bottles rolling around on the passenger floorboard, a sweatshirt—one of his own that she’d claimed—in his back seat, and a poster she’d made to cheer him on in the intramural softball league he’d joined. Though he usually kept his car pretty neat, even when his car had been such a clunker, her mess, the way she just sprawled through his space like she belonged there, didn’t bother him at all.

It’d be nice to have her belongings strewn about his place—their place—too.

She hung up as he pulled into the café parking lot.

Jade was on shift tonight. She was helping a customer, so they bypassed the counter and headed straight for Hazel’s chair. He’d swapped the table with one of the larger ones, the rickety wooden chair with a sturdier one, and now they could both sit there comfortably. Sometimes he kicked himself for not making those changes sooner, sharing the space with her last semester, but he couldn’t regret the way anything had worked out.

Per their deal, she still got the chair for the rest of the semester, but they both knew it was hers forever at this point. In fact, he was just glad he’d managed to keep it under wraps that the chair was terrible for his back. His only real interest in it had ever been about flirting with her.

“Everything good with your dad?”

“Apparently, he’s joined TikTok,” Hazel said, pulling her laptop from her bag. “He asked me what a thirst trap is, so honestly, I’m glad I can farm some things out to Lucy.”

Cami meandered over with a carafe. “When did you two get here?”

“Just now,” he said. He looked to the counter, where Jade’s customer was leaving. He rose, but Cami pushed his shoulder back down.

“Stay. I’ll get your drinks.”

Ash drummed his fingers on the table. He was nervous. He shouldn’t be. Hazel already basically lived with him. But it wasn’tnothing, asking her. She was better about talking through what scared her, letting him be on the same side with her instead of shutting him out, but this was still big.

Hazel slid one palm over his tapping fingers. She squeezed his hand, glanced over her laptop with an amused grin, and went back to her work.

With a steadying breath, he pulled out his own laptop, doing his best to put the little wooden box inside his messenger bag out of his mind. He would wait until she didn’t need to focus on her work, and then he’d ask her, and everything would be fine.

Two mugs clunked down on the table. They thanked Cami, each of them distracted, until Hazel drew hers up to her mouth and huffed in mock exasperation. The mugs were the sickeningly cutesy pair with the brushstroke lettering that saidWifeyandHubby. “Still hilarious,” she called to Cami’s retreating back.

Cami pulled this little joke every few weeks. To be honest, it didn’t bother Ash. In fact, he probably liked it—the idea of marrying Hazel someday—a little too much.

Hazel set the mug down next to his and caught his eye for a long, loaded moment before pink washed over her cheeks. She glanced away.

“What?”

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