Page 3
Three
A few of her friends would balk at the idea of asking a guy out, but Lucy never had. If she wanted to know a guy better, she threw out a low-key invitation. Though coffee had been her idea, Jeremy paid for her dirty chai latte. He ordered an iced Americano and laughed when she grimaced at it.
“Isn’t that just literally espresso and water?”
“Yep,” he said. “I don’t wreck it with sweet stuff.”
“What a sad life you lead,” Lucy said, and he laughed again. “So hey, if we have the same major, how have we never met before?”
His hesitation was brief, covered with a shrug. “This is my first semester on campus. I’ve been studying remotely.”
“Oh? Are you commuting now?”
He nodded.
“Long drive?”
“About half an hour. I’m in Harmony Ridge.”
She refrained from clapping her hands. He lived in the most adorable small town in all Tennessee. Not that Lucy had visited every small town in the state, but she didn’t have to. Harmony Ridge was her favorite.
“My grandparents live there,” she said. “You must know them, Charlie and Jenny Campbell.”
“Oh yeah, I think my mom and dad go to church with them.”
To his credit he did not turn the question back on her. She’d met him less than an hour ago; she wasn’t about to tell him where she lived, not even the town. Nerves threatened as quiet settled, as Jeremy sipped his Americano and let her sip her latte.
When he looked up, the blue depth of his eyes caught her all over again. “So, interior decorating, huh? Have a specialty?”
“Two, actually. Color and texture.”
At his invitation she launched into a detailed description of her passions. He nodded, asked real questions, convinced her with that honest gaze of his that she actually wasn’t boring him. Then she grilled him back about commercial web design, which mattered to him the way a beautiful, inviting, space-savvy living room or bedroom mattered to her.
“We kind of want to do the same thing,” Jeremy said. “Except you want to design physical spaces and I want to design virtual spaces.”
She loved that.
No, wait. She liked that.
They never stopped talking. And it was just the nicest thing… they talked.
She didn’t spend the night listening to a list of his talents and accomplishments and opinions. But he wasn’t evasive about himself either. If she asked a question, he answered it.
“Only child,” he said when she asked about siblings.
“Oh, me too. How about your folks?”
“We’re amicable.”
She cocked her head. “That’s an interesting word.”
“Yeah, it’s complicated. One thing I’d rather not get into tonight.”
“Very fair.”
“You sound like a native, or in other words you sound like me.” His mouth curved. His very appealing mouth. “Have you lived anywhere else or traveled much?”
Lucy blinked herself away from a two-second fantasy about tasting his lips. “Some school field trips, including D.C. It’s great to see other places, but only for like a week. Then I’m ready for home sweet home, and that’s always going to be Tennessee.”
His smile grew.
“Are you agreeing?”
“You bet,” he said. “Tennessee is home.”
Beginning but not ending with her lavender-dyed hair, Lucy avoided looking the part, yet her heart would always sing the song of the country girl. She smiled back.
He sipped his appalling watered-down espresso with relish, then said, “Favorite film?”
“Ooh, you take movies seriously.”
He laughed. “Because I said film ? Yeah, okay, guilty. I like the technical side of it. That stuff in Film Appreciation about flicker fusion and persistence of vision—I think it’s super cool.”
“I retained it just long enough for the exam.”
“But you have a favorite, right?”
She stretched her legs under the table, swirled her straw, considered and finally shrugged. “I guess not. You do, though, so go ahead.”
“Definitely Inception .”
“Haven’t seen it.”
He shook his head in mock dismay, then ended the topic. A minute later, discussing favorite bands, she understood. He would’ve delved deeper into movies if she’d been interested. He’d moved on for her, and most astonishing of all…he didn’t seem to mind. Lucy bit her lip against tears, and he paused mid-sentence as though she’d given away the momentousness of this realization. She found some generic comment to restart the conversation, and he didn’t push her. That was nice too.
Goals, dreams, childhoods. By the time the coffee shop closed and they migrated to the parking lot, settled on a bench in the cool September night, they’d been talking for hours and probed well past usual first-date icebreakers. Yet even when he asked her favorite movie, Jeremy was making more than small talk. It wasn’t something she could put into words. It was something in those lovely eyes, in the serious twist of his mouth while he listened to her, in the clasp of his broad hands on the table and now on his knees as they sat on the bench under the floodlight.
She told a funny story from the D.C. field trip to give him a taste of her eighth-grade shenanigans. He spoke of the guys he’d grown up with—Ezra, Trevor, Malachi, and Aaron—with such detail and brotherly affection, Lucy wanted to meet them all. Okay, maybe partly to verify their existence. A result of dating someone who fabricated closeness with others because he wouldn’t get far with people if they caught on that his deepest love was himself.
“Okay,” Jeremy finally said, “here’s one for you, future interior decorator. Favorite colors. You’ve got to have a couple of those.”
“You mean combinations? Coral and chocolate. Mint and lavender. Goldenrod and rust.”
Jeremy blinked. “Whoa. I guess I was expecting, like, orange and brown . Not coral and chocolate .”
“Coral is not orange. And you did ask.”
“I did.”
Her own words caught up with her in a rush. On their spontaneous first date, Jeremy had asked a question Liam never had in eighteen months. She wrapped her arms around herself and wrestled stupid tears.
“Hey,” Jeremy said quietly. “Whatever I keep tripping on, it’s over, isn’t it?”
She gave a little laugh. “Good and over. Over for good.”
“Well,” he said. “Good.”
Then he leaned down and kissed her.
It was somehow both thorough and careful. It was over before she could respond. But oh, his lips were a little rough against hers, teasing as they drew away, tasting of mint while he smelled of sage and something gamey she couldn’t identify but that sent delicious heat all through her. All that from a kiss that was already over. Lucy gave a little squeak.
“Was that okay?” he whispered in her ear. His smirk was audible.
In answer Lucy tipped her head up, grasped the back of his neck, and pulled his lips down to hers. This kiss was…more thorough. It lasted. And oh, he was a tease. Lucy pushed her fingers into his hair, and he cupped her head with one warm hand.
So stupid that they eventually had to breathe.
“That…was also okay,” she said.