Page 27 of The Risks of Reuniting (Love Connections #1)

My lips tug up. "You know, Cesar keeps telling me to backpedal, but you sound like your advice is the opposite."

She rolls her eyes. "My advice is stop pussy-footing around it and talk to the woman."

"I can't if she's not ready. Chloe isn't one to be pushed."

"Your life." She shrugs and Chloe and Cesar wrap up their conversation and move toward us.

I uncap the water and take a swig, feeling my shoulders relax as it hits. I was so thirsty. But as soon as I swallow my fill I swing back to glaring down at Rachelle while also taking in Chloe for good measure.

"Seriously, this wasn't safe," I state. Rachelle blinks, and Chloe's brown eyes take me in like I'm the very last person who has a say in what she chooses to do.

It lights me up, and not in a good way. I step toward her, pointing with the water jug.

"I'm not kidding, Chlo. You and Rachelle shouldn't risk yourselves up here in the dark. "

She raises a thin eyebrow, and the familiar, stubborn and sass-filled look nearly makes my anger melt.

"Sort of like how you and Cesar aren't risking yourselves by working for twelve hours straight with no food breaks, while running out of water?

I think what you meant to say is 'thank you'. . . so, you're welcome."

Rachelle snorts, but covers it up when I shoot her a look.

"We're trying to do some good here in the short time we have," I huff.

Chloe shrugs, unbothered. "Same."

"Not the same," I state.

"Sort of the same," Rachelle interjects with good humor. She shoves the plate at me. "I'm officially diagnosing you with no food bad mood and insisting you have something to eat."

Chloe looks away to Cesar who is sitting in the dirt and uncovering his plate.

He smiles as he sniffs the food and then dives in to some truly delicious looking chicken and vegetables, with fries on the side.

I uncover my own and take in the scent myself, making my stomach growl.

Rachelle laughs at the sound and slowly backs away to stand near Chloe.

I move to sit near Cesar, not caring at all about the dirt, and pick up the fork to make short work of the vegetables.

"Well, we just wanted to make sure you were still alive." Rachelle gives us a little wave. "Can't lift a hammer when you're a ghost."

She smiles and spins on her heel, prepared to go back down to headquarters. Chloe follows, and I realize that they're just going to dive right back in to an unsafe situation regardless of what I'd said mere seconds ago. I actually groan out loud, and it has them both looking over their shoulders .

I point at them with my fork, talking over a mouthful of food. "You are not leaving here alone."

Rachelle smiles, her expression happy, as though I've walked right into a little trap she set. "You're right," she says agreeably. "Safety first. We'll wait for an escort."

Chloe huffs. "I have pepper spray."

"You do?" I ask.

Her mouth twitches lightly before she bites down on her lip. "No. But I do have some siracha I took from the kitchen, and that would burn if I tossed it in someone's eyes."

Rachelle laughs, and I manage a smile. "I'd feel better if you two would let Cesar and I walk back with you."

And, because the universe really does seem to love me where Chloe is concerned, the sound of shouting and glass breaking fills the air around us from a block over.

Chloe's eyes grow wide and she steps back into the circle of light where the rest of us are.

I take a bit of chicken to keep from smiling at the giant I told you so that I was just handed.

Rachelle keeps conversation alive by basically monologuing until Cesar and I have finished our meals and gathered the tools that can't be left overnight.

The humanitarian group can't afford to replace them due to theft or vandalism.

Chloe looks over the house we've been working on, her expression thoughtful, and I wonder what she's thinking about as we turn off the oil lantern last, and the area is plunged into darkness.

With the haze in the sky, the moon doesn't have a chance to shine down and light the path before us.

Rachelle gathers our plates and forks, and slings both water jugs up in her hands before Chloe has a chance to. "Chloe, why don't you help Holt by carrying the lantern?" she offers .

Chloe nods and moves to take it from me.

I let my fingertips graze hers during the exchange, but I'm careful not to linger too long.

She glances at me, and I smile. Once she has the lantern in hand and I pick up the heavy box of tools, we both realize that Cesar and Rachelle have headed out without us.

They're only twenty feet ahead, but enough that it feels planned.

Chloe scoffs as we start walking. "Could she be any more obvious?"

I chuckle. "For two days Cesar has told me to leave you alone and pretend I was suffering from a brain injury – obviously still nursing a concussion. It looks like he's changed his mind."

"Hmm. He has some strong points."

I slow to match her shorter stride, and keep my eyes ahead, watching for any shadows that might come crawling after us, while doing my best not to stare at her pretty profile. Her gold chains wink when the clouds part for a moment, but it's quickly covered by darkness again.

"Why don't you tell me about the building you're working on?" she says, offering me a bone.

So I do. I launch into the whole story, and how sad I feel for the people who have so little, and how much of a difference I want to make while I'm here.

I tell her how I'd hoped to finish those five houses this week, but that we're behind and that's why we stayed all day.

She listens as our footsteps slow even further, until we've entirely lost sight of Cesar and Rachelle, and I can feel that hum that comes with being in tune with her.

"Would it be possible for you to extend your stay?" she asks, her voice telling me she has the same question for herself. "I'm guessing you're not taking summer classes."

"I'm not, but I actually start an internship at the University of Utah Hospital on June second. "

Chloe's steps falter, but I keep walking, knowing I've thrown her another plot twist.

"You're coming to Salt Lake after this?" she asks.

"Yeah."

"For how long?" she sputters.

"About a month. I'll be done June twenty-seventh, and head back to North Carolina at the start of July."

Silence falls, and I know she's processing, trying to figure out how to respond. Yet, when she does say something, it's not at all what I'd have expected her to ask.

"Were you going to call me, you know, when you got to Salt Lake?" Her voice is soft and so vulnerable, and I can hear how hard it was for her to ask.

I stop walking and turn to face her, stepping close to see her clearly in the dark. "I thought about it constantly. I wanted to, but I couldn't decide if you would be okay with that."

She sucks in a breath and bites her lips. "I don't know what I would have said."

I nod, fully understanding, because I feel the same way. "I don't know either. If we hadn't ended up here together, and it had been nearly a year since I'd seen you last, well . . ." I laugh as I say the same sentence we've already both said. "I don't know."

Now it's her turn to nod. "You probably would have been nervous to reach out, after the way we ended."

She doesn't say it unkindly, but more as a reflection of her own emotions, and she's right. I would have been scared to reach out after not having seen her for almost a year, with zero contact in between. I would have had no reason to hope she would have welcomed that contact.

"Yeah," is all I say, because I don't disagree with her .

I can see the headquarters buildings and I want to slow down and stretch out this conversation, but I also want her safely behind those walls.

Mostly, though, I want to tread lightly and have neither of us leave this conversation upset.

We pass through the gate and she turns to hand me the lantern.

This is the fork in our path. Her bunk is to the left, mine is to the right.

She looks up at me, her eyes searching my dirty, construction debris-covered face, and doesn't smile.

She's serious and thoughtful, still guarded but somehow a little bit open.

"Do you think if you had some extra help you could finish those houses this week?" she asks.

It's the thinnest of olive branches. It would break if I grabbed on too hard.

"I think so," I say at last.

"I don't know much about construction, but I could talk to Rachelle and maybe if you're not finished by tomorrow, we could help you on Saturday."

I smile. "All right."

She simply nods, doesn't say goodbye or offer up anything else, and I watch her familiar gait as she's enveloped by the darkness. It's the smallest, most tiny victory ever, but I'll take it.