My words hit him like a surprise.
His eyes drop to my chest in thought.
“It’s up to you,” I tell him, “and I mean it. You’ve got the key to your life. You always did. And any moment you want, you can just turn it in that lock and let yourself out. I’ll be there with you.”
I guess he decides not to do anything with the keyorthe cage just yet, because before I know it, he’s back on my lips, and then his office becomes the next victim to our seriously out-of-check sexual drive.
It’s that evening that Cissy, as if reading our minds somehow, gives us an unexpected scolding after dinner. “You twocannotbe cooped up in here for all eternity. TJ, why don’t you take Austin into town tonight? Show him around a little bit! Oh, but watch out for deer on the road,” she quickly adds. “I heard Cassie nearly ran herself into the ditch last week, poor thing.”
I guess that’s how TJ and I end up in his car driving into town, departing his house for the first time in however many days.
I’ve already been here twice, of course, but driving in with TJ this evening feels like the first time all over again. The way he tells me about the town, you’d think it was the center of the universe. Every other storefront we pass has a big story attached to it. Each corner, some memory he half-tells me before getting distracted by the next thing. The car is parked and forgotten about, and on foot we explore the town. “That’s Biggie’s Bites,” TJ tells me, “owned by my boss’s parents. They’re super nice. Just don’t try the Tackle Burger unless you want to blow up the toilet at midnight. Hot as sin. Should be illegal.” Like I said, a story attached to everything. “And rightthereused to be theCold Spoon, an ice cream place run by the Strongs until T&S’s opened up and ran it out of business. Don’t worry, there’s no bad blood about it … I think.”
Then we’re at T&S’s, and his boss—Billy, I learn—leans over the counter with a smirk. “About time you showed up, stranger,” he teases to TJ, then eyes me. “Hey, I recognize you.” I about shit a brick before he finishes with: “Didn’t TJ take an impromptu hour-long break to bandage up your head after you walked into a pole?”
My lips twist up. “Guilty.”
“Don’t feel bad. I’ve done much worse. Good to see you back.” His eyes dance back and forth between me and TJ. I’m feeling a lot more’s happening in his head than he’s letting on. “Want a couple freebie treats? For your new friend,” he adds to TJ, winking.
TJ, whose face I’m impressed to say flushes from one end to the other in just two and a half seconds, says, “Uh, trying to watch my figure, sorry, and my mom’s been home a lot more than usual, stuffing us silly with all kinds of baked nonsense, and—”
“You’re staying in town?” Billy presses on, turning to me with surprise. “Explains what’s been keepin’ TJ occupied lately.”
If he only knewhowTJ’s being kept occupied… “Just for another week or so,” I answer, saving a flush-faced TJ from answering any more questions, “but I don’t think it’s off the table for us to drop in every now and then for a sweet treat. I did hear about a Football Special that’s sure to knock my teeth off?”
“Literally,” Billy promises dryly, then adds, “FootballSundaeSpecial—like, with an ‘e’, sundae, corny pun intended.”
“Call me a sucker for corny puns you can eat,” I mutter back.
And that’s about all TJ can handle: “We gotta go. Thanks, Mr. Billy! Uh—Billy. Sorry, just Billy.” Then I’m swiped awayfrom the counter like a kid from a candy shop counter, and Billy’s waving us goodbye with wiggling fingers.
Like some kind of full circle thing, we end up at Chatty Cat’s with a pair of hot chocolates, despite the muggy evening. We sit at the front window next to each other while I listen to TJ go on and on about his boss and how he’ssolike his mother-in-law Nadine, it isn’t funny. “Trust me,himfinding out is just as bad asher.” After a thought, he adds, “Am I making a bigger deal out of this than it is? Should I just relax? Why am I so worked up about this?”
I’m about to answer him when I catch a couple of girls looking our way, sitting at a table closer to the counter. One of them has a phone out, but it isn’t aimed at us. The other keeps sucking on her straw while eyeing us, like she’s having dirty thoughts.
“I just realized what it is,” TJ says, his speech slowing. “It’s … It’s because I always pictured myself coming outwitha guy. I had boyfriends back at school, but … none of them I’d bring back here to meet my parents. None of them were serious. None of them … felt worth it.” He stares into his drink a moment, stirring absently with his straw. Then he glances at me. “You do.”
His words, or maybe the sweet way he delivers them, pulls a smile out of me. “Good,” I say, lifting my chin, “because I already know none of those loser exes of yours could throw down a hot chocolate like I can.” I tap my cup, then lift it for a chug. I come short when I realize it’s still way too damned hot, choking, and set it back down with a grimace. “In a sec. G-Gimme a sec. I deserve another shot at that.”
TJ’s already laughing, tears in his eyes.
I only ever want him to have tears of laughter. No other kind are allowed around me.
This guy deserves the world.
“It’s nice,” he starts telling me before he’s fully recovered, his eyes still wet with happiness, “for us to finally have this nice little coffee date we sorta missed out on the first time.”
“On account of a distractingly cute cat outside,” I point out.
“And you not liking crowds.” Then he nods. “I get it now, your thing with crowds. What you really meant back then.”
I glance at him, feeling appreciative. “I don’t hate ‘em.” I lean in. “Just depends on who I’m in ‘em with.”
Our faces draw so close, it’s a wonder we don’t kiss right here and just get it over with. Whether or not anyone’s looking. Those girls. Someone outside the window. None of it matters, at least not right now. That world out there can keep on moving, heedless to the gooey-eyed pair of us.
And for once, I don’t want to run from it.
Chapter 19.