Page 62 of Good Directions

Faster than I can think, an arm wraps around my waist. I hold my breath, expecting another kiss, feeling Anton lean in. But he catches me off guard, stopping, pressing his forehead against mine. Leaving it there.

Holy fuck…

Time stops. Nothing exists but him and me. It’s like he’s trying to read my thoughts. To know my deepest innermost secrets. Truth be told, I am this close to telling him too.

“If you wanna go get comfy on the couch, I’ll go grab plates and the pizza.”

“Will I be fully compensated by Hayes if I get lost in the cushions and your couch eats me?”

“Not my couch’s tongue you gotta worry about…” he sasses, eyes immediately going wide. Stepping back, he lets go of me, hands flying up. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“Make a bad joke?” I tease, giving him the out.

Last thing I want is him feeling like he can’t be himself around me. Because oddly enough, it’s that self I think I’m starting to like.

“It wasn’t that bad,” he defends, walking backward toward the kitchen.

I shake my head, heading over to the couch, picking my spot and making myself comfortable. I kick off my flip-flops, pulling my legs up underneath me.

“Eh, it kinda was. Couches don’t even have tongues.”

“Technicality.”

He places the pizza and two plates on the coffee table, and we serve ourselves.

“So,” he mumbles around a bite of pizza, “tell me about this job you’re after.”

I stare at him for a second. That is not where I thought he was going with that. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy to talk about it, but I would have lost serious money had I bet on the topic of conversation for the evening.

“Lead Soil Research and Development Manager. Basically, a fancy way of saying I would oversee all the different procedures and projects the department has going on across the state when it comes to soil. It would be a big jump from my current role, since I would be over not only projects, but people, and interacting with other groups.”

Anton nods, chewing his pizza slowly. “But it’s all theoretical, right? Or, administrative? You wouldn’t be running any of the actual projects?”

“Oh, there will be plenty of admin. I’d still be involved in the research portion. The lab work. But I wouldn’t be in the field, if that’s what you mean.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you really want to be a lab rat? Rather than out in the real world?”

I consider the question. “I love what I do. I love trying to find ways to help farmers be sustainable and produce more. I feel like I’m contributing something to the world. Helping make the world a better place and securing a future.”

“And you think the best way to make the world a better place for your future kids is from a seat in a lab?”

“Yeah.” I nod. “Although, I don’t think I want kids.”

That last part slips out faster than I can stop myself. So fast that it makes the conversation come to a crashing halt. Maybe even faster than my screaming no did the other day when we were making out in the field.

Anton stares at me, jaw slack, mouth open, pizza midway there, like he cannot believe what I just said. Yup. I just killed the mood.

I heave myself to my feet, using all the energy I have to make it up off this extra deep couch, sliding my empty plate onto the table. Heat rushes to my cheeks, pure mortification setting in.

“I’ll see myself out.”

“You will do no such thing,” Anton demands. “Sit your cute butt down!”

I stop.

Come again?!

“You think my butt is cute?”