How could he crouch there and be all considerate like that? She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand and resumed sanding. He stood after a minute and came back with a disposable dust mask. She took the mask he held out without looking at him, put it on, and kept sanding. Condensation formed over the top of her lips, but it was better than breathing in wood dust.
“Are you giving me the silent treatment?” he asked after a stretch of silence.
She hadn’t planned on it, but she had no interest in speaking to him at the moment. They’d kissed. It was incredible. Did it not mean anything to him?
“You’re never quiet when you’re mad,” he said in a pained voice. “It usually kills you not to spit out what you’re thinking.”
If he knew her so well, then why was he doing this to her? How could he kiss her like that and try to sweep it under the rug like she was some dust bunny?
“I packed us bologna sandwiches for lunch.”
Her hand stilled for a moment. The hopeful lilt in his words almost made her look up at him. She used to love bologna sandwiches.Yum. Mystery meat. But it wasn’t enough to make her want to talk. She moved on to the next spindle. Jack sighed and walked away with heavy steps. She hardly felt guilty.
The annoying buzz of the electric sander filled the air once more, and she fumed in silence. She was freaking out about thekiss, too. They’d been best friends for two decades, and that kiss was definitely not a friend-zone thing. But was it the worst thing for them to be more than friends?
Sure, it was weird and unexpected, but it wasn’t bad. At least, she didn’t think so. It just hadn’t happened before because they didn’t see each other that way. Things were different now. Weren’t they? They certainly were for her. She saw him as a man—someone she wanted. It wasn’t something she could unsee. And after that kiss, she was pretty sure she didn’t want to unsee it.
How would this work, though? She lived in Los Angeles, and he lived in Weldon. Did a four-hour drive make it a long-distance relationship? She had no idea. Besides, that was just logistics. They could figure that stuff out later. She only wanted him to acknowledge that something was happening between them and that it was kind of wonderful.
That was it. She was afraid to speak to him because he might not be as happy about the turn of events as she was. Why else would he pretend like everything was normal? He wanted to forget the kiss ever happened. Her lips quivered behind her mask. Was the thought of being with her so horrible? She blinked back tears.
She instinctively searched inside herself for anxiety to sprout its ugly head, but it didn’t come. She was hurt and worried that he might regret their kiss—as she had every right to be—but anxiety had not taken control of her. She took a deep breath with ease.
Jack was right. There was no use torturing herself like this when they could talk it out. She got to her feet and dusted her hands. Then she wiped them on her shorts. Then she dusted off her shorts. When there was nothing else for her to dust to delay the talk, she walked over to him. The sander immediately went silent.
“You want to talk?” she said.
He pulled off his mask and smiled uncertainly at her. “Talking is definitely better than the silent treatment.”
She went to sit at the bottom of the stairs that led up to her apartment. He sat down next to her. He was so close, she could feel his warmth against her skin. Awareness raised the hair on her arms, but she was also comforted by his nearness. He was still her Jack.
“Why are you pretending like nothing happened earlier?” She dived straight in and waited with her heart pounding.
He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and looked down at his hands. “I needed time to process what happened.”
“We kissed.” It wasn’t as simple as that, she knew. But did it have to be much more complicated?
“Yes, I realize that,” he said with a wry curve of his lips.
“Do you… regret that it happened?” Her nails dug into the palm of her hands.
“I’m conflicted as hell, but no.” He met her gaze and held it. “I don’t regret it happening.”
A knot unraveled in her chest and she puffed a sigh of relief. “I’m glad.”
His eyes fell to his hands again, and he didn’t say anything for a long moment. “Our friendship means a lot to me, Lizzy.”
Her stomach sank. “It means a lot to me, too.”
“We kissed, but that doesn’t mean we have to do it again.” One of his knees started bouncing. “It doesn’t mean that anything has to change.”
“What if I want us to kiss again?” She put her hand on his knee until he stilled. “And just because some things change doesn’t mean that everything has to change.”
“I don’t want to lose you,” he said with aching vulnerability.
“I don’t think that’s possible,” Lizzy whispered. She didn’twant to lose him, either. She wouldn’t be able to bear it. “We’re amazing as friends. Why would things be different just because we become… more?”
“That depends on how muchmorewe become.”
