“He could be it,” I say quietly. “My Forever.”
Trask claps me on the shoulder. “Then tell him.Soon. Don’t wait for the perfect moment. Perfect moments are bullshit. Just tell him how you feel. Lay it out. Let him decide.”
I nod.
But tonight’s not the night—too public, too many ears. But soon.
Very soon.
I’m going to make Taron mine.
Taron bounces back to the booth a few minutes later, cheeks flushed from excitement, waving his phone. “High score! Beat the machine’s record by two hundred points!”
Trask raises his glass. “To the pinball prince.”
My sweet, sexy boy slides in beside me, closer than before, thigh pressed to mine under the table. His hand finds mine on the seat, fingers threading through as he moves across my thigh. He looks up at me with that bright, open smile.
“Best night ever,” he whispers.
I squeeze his hand.
“Yeah,” I murmur back. “Best night.”
And I mean it.
Because he’s here.
Because he’s laughing.
Because he’smine.
And the night’s not over yet…
Chapter 11
Taron
We wave goodbye to Trask from the tavern steps. He’s still grinning like he knows something we don’t, raising his pint in a mock salute before disappearing back inside with the rest of the Friday-night crowd. The door swings shut behind him, muffling the laughter and jukebox guitar riffs.
“Ahhh, fresh air,” I say, taking a big gulp of evening air.
“I’m surprised you know what fresh air is, city boy!” Kaleb laughs, playfully nudging me.
“Hmmm, sure thing Mountain Man!” I sass back, arching my eyebrow and loving every second of my newfound back and forth banter with Kaleb.
Outside, the night air is indeed super-cool and crisp, perfect after the warm, beery fog of the Hollow. The streetlamps glow soft amber along Main Street, turning the quiet sidewalks into pools of gold. Most of the shops are dark, windows reflecting the moon and the occasional passing car. The town feels small and safe, like it’s wrapped us in a cozy blanket.
Kaleb might tease me about being a city boy. And maybe I always will be. But I can’t deny that there’s something incredibleabout being in a place like this. It makes me feel something different, something far realer and more comforting than I’ve experienced in my adult life.
“Let’s walk,” Kaleb says, firm but friendly.
Kaleb’s hand finds mine almost immediately. His palm is rough, warm, callused from years of chainsaws and axes, but the way he laces our fingers is gentle. I squeeze back and we start walking toward the B&B, shoulders brushing every few steps.
The silence between us isn’t awkward. It’s full. Comfortable. Like we’ve already said everything that needs saying tonight.
Of course, I know that there will be more words. But for now, it’s all good to simply be together. As a writer, I know when silence is best.
I glance up at him. Firelight from the tavern had made him look even more rugged, but under the streetlamps he’s softer somehow—less guarded. The perpetual scowl is gone, replaced by something almost… peaceful.