My mouth went dry, heart hammering.
He blinked, turning away from me to rub his jaw. When he looked back, his eyes were normal. Soft shades of green mingling with gold.
His discomfort was obvious. Hands fidgeting, gaze moving over my face, then down to my folded hands, then finally to the porch where it lingered for too long.
“Well,” I said, shoving the door open. “It’s been fun.”
He wasn’t going to follow me up those porch steps tonight—my last night.
I mentioned that I was checking out tomorrow. Told him at least three times over the last week. At the time, it was a tease.
After today, it felt different. Sadder. Like there was something unfinished between us.
Isaac climbed out of the driver’s side. He seemed taller somehow, a looming presence. For a long moment, he stood with his back to me, scanning the surrounding darkness. His nostrils flared, and he inhaled long and deep.
That was when it hit me.
He was stalling.
Isaac was stalling because this was goodbye. He knew I was leaving. He didn’t know how to end this.
My insides went cold. Even though I spent weeks telling myself this was nothing—I lied.
Well, this was going to be a painful lesson to learn.
I climbed three steps up the porch, pausing there. Hoping I was wrong.
“Do you want to come up? My clothes are soaked and I could use a hot shower.” My tone was too flat to be seductive, the words ringing hollow in the space between us.
Isaac approached me, the angles cutting deeper across his cheeks. The look on his face tugged at something in my memory, but it slipped away before I could grasp it.
I swallowed a frisson of fear.
“I’ve got to go.” He cleared his throat. Why did he keep doing that? All of this was making me nervous.
“Go where?”
“I have this thing with my brothers.” He took my hand in his. I jumped at the contact, his skin feverishly hot.
He opened his mouth, and nothing came out.
We stared at each other, frozen in time as neither of us knew what to say.
“I think—"
“I didn’t plan—" Isaac said at the same time.
“Sorry, you go.”
The clouds were moving rapidly overhead as the storm rolled further inland. For a heartbeat, the horizon cleared, flashes of moonlight spilling across the bayou onto the concrete at our feet.
Isaac shuddered violently, releasing my hand to run his palm roughly over his face.
“I have to go,” he said, voice thick.
“Okay.” My confusion was turning to anger. If he didn’t want this to go further, what was today?
A date.