Page 32 of Emerald Moon (Pitch Mountain Pack #2)

twenty-two

Jo was somewhere in between sleep and being awake when a knock startled both them and Dolly.

It was well past noon and Jo probably should have been awake already, but working at the bakery had taken a lot of effort the night before.

They were glad they’d done it, though, because Wil was right — doing things with their hands helped keep their mind from spiraling.

But it still took a lot out of them, and they’d fallen asleep without a shower the night before and stayed in bed since.

Someone knocked again. “Jo, it’s Diah. Someone’s here for you.”

That was enough to make Jo sit upright in bed, eyes wide.

They took in the state of their side of the room and the state of themselves.

Jo looked like they’d been through it the past few days.

Their hair was messier than usual and they were wearing questionably clean items they’d picked off the floor the night before.

“Who?” Jo called out.

“She said her name was Cass. Want me to send her up?”

“No!” Jo panicked. “I’ll come down and meet her.

Thanks. Just give me a second.” They rushed into the bathroom to see the damage, tried to smooth down their hair, and gave up.

They opted for a baseball cap and threw a clean sweatshirt over top of their clothes.

It was big and it smelled good, so it’d hide everything else, even if it was too warm to wear it.

They took one last look in the mirror, grimaced, and made their way downstairs.

Jo spotted Cass first, standing in the entrance to the pack house in a short-sleeved shirt buttoned all the way up, of course.

They couldn’t see from this far away, but they hoped the pattern was tiny birds.

Cass stood still as stone, no fidgeting, and she was holding a bouquet of flowers.

For a second, Jo let themselves feel excited before the feeling mixed together with all the leftover guilt.

“Hey Cass,” Jo said as they descended the last of the stairs.

Cass visibly brightened, her eyebrows shooting up, the corner of her lips curving into a gentle smile.

She held out of the flowers. “I got these for you from the shop today. It’s what you do when someone you care about is unwell, and I thought they might make you feel better.

I also added some cheerful songs to our playlist.”

Again, that bittersweet mix of hope and shame bubbled up inside of them. They took the flowers, their hands brushing against one another. “Thank you,” they said, barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry,” they said next because nothing else felt right.

“For missing coffee? It’s alright. I understand.”

Jo shook their head. “I’m sorry for a lot of things.

” They glanced around, hearing footsteps behind them.

“Do you want to go out on the deck to talk?” Jo looked over their shoulder, considering.

“No, actually, it’s, like, a thousand degrees outside with humidity just as high.

We could go to my room, but it’s a huge mess.

Well, my side is. Wil’s is always immaculate.

If you don’t judge a messy room, we could talk there. ”

“I don’t mind a little mess.”

“It’s a lot of mess.”

“Is Dolly in there?”

Jo nodded.

“Then I won’t even notice the mess,” Cass said.

They went back and forth a few more times before Jo caved and led Cass upstairs.

Dolly was still asleep at the foot of the bed when they walked in.

Jo saw their side of the room through someone else’s eyes and died a little inside — clothes on the floor, dishes on the bedside table they’d meant to take back down, and empty coffee cups from the past few days everywhere.

Cass, being the kind person she was, pretended not to notice and sat on the bed near Dolly. She stroked her between the ears and the cat made a tiny, trilling sound as she woke up. “Sorry to wake you, sweetie. You just looked too soft.”

Jo looked down at the bouquet in their hands, noticing it fully for the first time. They couldn’t name the flowers, besides the daisies, but it was a soft array of yellows, whites, and a few pops of purple — almost like the — “Did you make me a nonbinary bouquet?”

“I tried. They don’t have black flowers at the shop, so I did the best with what I could.”

Jo puffed out a laugh, the sound feeling foreign to their own ears, but relief settled in and their shoulders relaxed. “I like it. It’s perfect.”

Cass’ smile widened as she kept petting Dolly, who was purring now and curling up closer to Cass.

“I’m just going to start to say what I need to say, okay?” Jo said.

Cass nodded, moving her hands so Dolly could rest in her lap.

Jo took in the sight of the two of them, looked at the flowers again, heaved a sigh, and started, “Sometimes I drop out of life for a little while because my brain is a hot mess — like a diagnosed, medicated hot mess. It’s a lot better than it used to be, but I still get these moments where doing anything at all takes so much effort and my brain feels like it’s trapped in fog and I can’t think and I can’t remember anything.

So I’m sorry I forgot about coffee. I was feeling like this a little at the wedding, but I stuck it out and pretended to feel fine, so it hit, like, so much worse because I exhausted myself. I’m sorry, again, for that.”

“I wish you’d have told me so I could have known, but I understand maybe not wanting to share that yet.”

“It’s not even that I didn’t want to. More like talking to anyone about anything was hard. I could do it, but it took a lot out of me.”

“Next time we can sit together and not talk. At least then you won’t be alone.”

Jo’s instinct was to push back, to say that they were fine, to make sure they weren’t a burden to anyone else, but instead they said, “I think I’d like that.”

They really did want Cass around when they felt bad, more than just Wil or Krista — both of whom were amazing people, but all Jo wanted was to sit on the bed with Cass and Dolly and talk.

Or not talk. Anything was good. When they felt great, or when they felt awful, they wanted Cass there for everything.

They wanted Cass there as more than just a friend.

This was more than an attraction, more than all the friend crushes that had come before — this was a need to know her better and a need to let Cass know them fully, too.

Jo sat down on the bed, resting the flowers on their pillow.

There was never going to be a perfect time for this, was there?

They looked at their hands and twisted their fingers together. “At my sister’s wedding,” they started, knowing where they were going to go, but hesitating to go there. “I’m sorry that I kissed you without knowing how I feel, but I’m not sorry I kissed you at all.”

Cass was still and quiet beside them. Jo twisted their fingers into increasingly uncomfortable shapes.

”I’m not sorry you kissed me either.”

Jo raised their head, almost looking Cass in the eye, but unable to do it. “You’re not?”

”I was glad it happened, even if what came after wasn’t what I expected.”

”I am sorry for that. I think I kissed you to see how I felt when I should have waited until I knew.”

”And?”

Jo squeaked out a questioning sound, sure they knew what Cass was asking, but unsure if they were ready to answer.

Finally, they met Cass’ gaze and they stopped wringing their hands.

A calm washed over them. This was Cass. Being around her didn’t make Jo weird or awkward, not anymore than they already were.

Being with her made Jo feel better. None of that was different now, even with important words to say.

Since the almost kiss in the tent, Jo had been waiting for the awkward friend crush to show up.

Cass was cool and interesting. Jo was happy to be around her.

So they’d expected the blushing, the tripping over their words, and the actual tripping over their feet when they were around her.

That’s what attraction was, wasn’t it? There had been times before where that had led to dating, but none of those had worked out in the end.

What they felt for Cass came with comfort, not stress.

Cass made them feel at ease and they’d labeled that as a new friendship without the difficult pining stage.

But what if that’s what falling in love was like sometimes?

What if it didn’t come with all the awkwardness?

What if love could be like settling into the sofa with a good book after a hard day?

What if it was like putting on a favorite sweatshirt after it’d been too hot to wear it for a while?

What if, instead of being a strange feeling Jo didn’t know what to do with, love felt like coming home?

”I like you, Cass. I really, really like you.

I might even love you, but that feels like a really big thing to say and I’m not ready.

But I’m here. And I’m willing to jump into this with you and see where things go because I think they’d go somewhere really great.

Everything with you is great. Awesome. Excellent. The best. Because you’re the best.”

Cass sat with their words for a few beats during which Jo got increasingly less confident about their word choices. As soon as they were about to open their mouth and keep explaining what they meant, Cass found her voice.

“So you’re ready to try this? To have a relationship?

I just want to be sure this time because I’ve read things incorrectly before and I don’t want to push you into anything you’re not ready for.

I never have. It’s why I backed off after you made it clear you didn’t want me to kiss you in the tent.

I never want to put you in a position where you’re uncomfortable.

Because I’ve loved you in some way since I met you.

I get these gut feelings about people, and I’m not usually wrong.

With you, it’s like the world lit up when I first saw you, and once we got to spend time together it only got better. ”