The late-afternoon sun was still hot, the sidewalk shimmering faintly in the heat. She matched my stride withouteffort, her hands stuffed into her pockets, and for a few precious moments, it felt easy, like the most natural thing in the world, like we hadn’t spent months circling each other, pretending we weren’t gravitating closer every single day.
But maybe it wasn’t that easy because I couldn’t stop thinking about the truth pressing against my ribs, begging to be let out. I wanted to tell her everything. The words burned at the back of my throat.I’m TheWriteGuy. I’ve been the one you’ve been talking to all this time. You don’t have to choose, because it’s already me.
But every time I opened my mouth, fear shoved the confession back down.
What if she hated me for not telling her sooner? What if she felt tricked, betrayed? What if knowing ruined everything we had—both online and here, face-to-face?
So instead, I asked, “How’s work?”
She glanced at me, lips curving. “Deflecting with small talk, huh?”
“Maybe.”
“It’s going okay,” she said. “Busy. But … good. I like accounting more than I expected to.”
“That’s good.” My shoulders relaxed. I wanted that for her—to be happy. “You deserve that.”
Her eyes softened in a way that made my pulse stumble. “Thanks.”
We walked in silence for a few steps, the sounds of our shoes against the sidewalk filling the air. Our arms brushed once, twice, and I had to fight the urge to takeher hand. To claim something I wasn’t sure I had the right to claim.
I kept turning over the truth in my head as we neared my place. Maybe I could ease into it. Test the waters.
“You ever think about how weird timing can be?” I asked.
She gave me a quizzical look. “Weird how?”
“Like … sometimes people come into your life right when you need them. Almost like fate or something.”
Her smile flickered. “Yeah. I think about that a lot, actually.”
“Do you—” The words caught in my throat.Do you ever wonder if the people in your life are connected in ways you don’t see yet?
I chickened out. Again. “Do you believe in fate?”
She gave me a thoughtful look. “I don’t know. I think I believe in choices more. Fate might bring people together, but it’s what you choose to do with it that matters.”
Her words struck me square in the chest, and for a second, I couldn’t breathe. Because wasn’t that exactly where I was stuck? Fate had tangled us together in every possible way, but I still hadn’t chosen to tell her.
We ended up in my kitchen, putting together a dinner of pasta and garlic bread. She leaned against the counter, reading instructions off the box while I stirred sauce in a pan.
“You’re very domestic,” she teased.
“Don’t spread it around,” I said. “Ruins my reputation.”
“What reputation?”
“The one where I’m mysterious and broody. You know, like a vampire in a YA novel.”
She laughed so hard she nearly dropped the box she was holding. “Oh, my gosh, stop. You’d make a terrible vampire.”
“Why’s that?”
“Too warm,” she said without hesitation, eyes flicking over me before she realized what she’d said. Color flooded her cheeks, and she busied herself with the bread.
I bit back a grin, heat curling low in my belly.
“And you’re not broody, by the way,” she added. “At least that’s not what people say about you.”