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They got sleeping bags, a tent and all kinds of things that they could carry in backpacks.

Some cooking utensils and some rations.

“I’m having PTSD,” said Rory. And then she pulled a face. “I’m sorry. That was distasteful.”

“I think it’s kind of valid to use that in context with something you experienced in high school.”

“No. It was insensitive. I’m sorry.”

“It might’ve been offensive to some people, Rory, but not to me. Believe me, I’m not so protective of that label or experience that it bothers me.”

“Okay,” she said slowly.

“Don’t worry.” She was very clearly worried. “It’s more important to me that you talk to me like a normal person than start being all careful.”

A lot of people talked to him like that. Careful like that.

Cassidy had been an interesting mix. She was often very careful, and then it had dissolved. And there had been careful, careful,careful, cruel. And once she had gotten cruel, she’d gone all in. He understood. She’d been trying to find something to reach him. To change him. He did get that. He just didn’t want to think about it anymore, so he didn’t.

They finished walking through the store and checked out, and if the price tag made his eyes water a little bit, he did a decent job not showing it. At least there was one benefit to his emotions being buried. He could keep the heavier ones under wraps if need be.

They walked out of the store laden with bags. He took the ones Rory was holding, and their fingers brushed. Her eyes widened just a fraction and met his.

And he felt like everything slowed. That happened to him sometimes. Usually because of something bad. But this wasn’t bad.

The feeling lodged in his chest—it wasn’t panic.

It was something sweet and warm. Something he wanted to save. Something he wanted to hang on to.

She wasn’t looking at him like he was a hero. She was just looking at him.

She wasn’t afraid. She wasn’t starstruck.

Her hands were like silk.

How long had it been since he touched anything soft? Everything had been hard these last few years. Absolutely everything.

And Fia knew that.It’s why she warned you off. Because if all you want is to rest your head on someone soft for a while, it cannot be with Rory Sullivan.

Yeah. He knew that.

“So. The date is Friday.”

Rory blinked. “The date... Oh, yes. And then Saturday we’ll head out on the trip.”

“I hope you have a good time, Rory.”

“I don’t know what I’m going to do if you’re not there to shouttermiteat me.”

“I never had to say it at Smokey’s.”

“No. You didn’t.”

“You’ll be fine.”

“I hope so.”

“Would you mind... Would you mind stopping at this boutique down at the end of the street? I don’t need you to go with me, I just...”