Page 8 of On the Way to You

“Good to know.”

I nodded, adjusting the yoga mat under my arm. He was just leaned up against the car, which I realized now was not only a convertible, but a BMW, too. His hands were tucked easily into the pockets of his navy blue pants, one ankle crossed over the other as he watched me.

When he stood straight and opened the passenger side door, Kalo bolted from where she’d been sniffing the grass at my side and jumped right into the front seat, parking her little butt down and letting her tongue hang out as she panted up at us.

He eyed her, one brow cocked as he turned back to face me.

“Kalo. I rescued her when she was a pup.” I shrugged. “Can’t leave her behind.”

He wet his lips, looking back down at Kalo with a curious stare. “Will you be like a butterfly, too?”

Kalo popped up, little paws pressing into his chest as she lapped at his face before jumping into the backseat.

He chuckled, wiping at the slobber on his chin before turning to me with an outstretched hand aimed at the bag over my shoulder. I handed it to him, mind still racing with all the reasons this was the dumbest idea ever as he loaded my bag into the trunk, taking my yoga mat next.

I dropped Kalo’s bed into the back seat and she immediately climbed into it, turning in two circles before plopping down.

And then I had a panic attack.

“Wait!”

He paused mid-reach for the handle on the driver door, but he was still relaxed, a peaceful expression on his face as he did what I asked.

I couldn’t catch a steady breath, ears ringing and fingers reaching blindly for my braid. I pulled it over my shoulder and picked at the ends of it, mind racing, questions burning through me.

“What’s your name?”

“Emery.”

“Emery what?”

“Emery Reed.”

I nodded, over and over, still picking at my split ends. “Okay, Emery Reed, and have you ever been convicted of a crime?”

He laughed, just one quick, humored bark, the noise warm and comforting. “No. Have you?”

I wrinkled my nose. “Of course not.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” I agreed, looking up and down my street. One of my neighbors a few trailers down was sitting on their porch, watching me with curious eyes. “Are you dangerous?”

“If I was, I wouldn’t tell you.”

“But you’re not, right?”

He shrugged. “Guess you’ll find out.”

I scoffed. “I’m serious. You’re not like… crazy or anything, are you?”

At that he threw his head back and laughed again, eyes warm when they found mine. “Of course I am. Aren’t you?”

A warm breeze blew between us then, the faint smell of pumpkin riding on its wings, giving me the first scent of fall I’d had all season.

“Can I get in now?” he asked, eyes not leaving mine.

I swallowed, and then with a quick nod, he opened his door as I slipped into the passenger seat, and we closed the doors at the same time, the quiet thunk of them solidifying my choice.