Page 41

Graham could be a stuck-up snob. There is a difference between confidence and cockiness. Sometimes people forget that.

“I’m sorry you found it. I packed it all up so long ago—” All my nervousness seems to grip me, but Sean cuts me off.

“Hey—you don’t have to defend yourself.” He pauses hesitantly. “It’s your first place without him. Is that hard for you?”

I don’t want him to think I’m still stuck on Graham. I’m so far from moved on, especially since moving back.

It hurt to leave my life behind. How could it not? My life started over at eighteen, just to do it over again ten years later. I thought I’d finally figured it out—but it was all plastic. Fake. This refresh feels like the most real thing I’ve ever exp-erienced.

“It’s nice to be on my own again. I’m happy. This is my first time ever living alone, actually. It’s a good feeling.” I smile.

For once, I believe the words.

Sean moves his chop sticks around the noodles, picking them and dropping them.

“What is it?” I ask.

“Nothing.” He doesn’t look up.

“Sean?” I pout.

“I just don’t want to pressure you.” He looks at me now, placing his food to the side. “I don’t want you to go faster than what you’re ready for.”

I laugh, catching him off guard. He’s serious—but I can’t help it. He’s as perfect as ever and he thinks he’s moving too fast even though today was the first day we’ve even touched.

“Don’t worry about that. You’ve been great.”

“I want you to know, I’m okay waiting again. Until you’re ready. Assuming you eventually want to be…more.”

“I do—want that. Eventually,” I emphasize.

I want to be sure we’re one hundred percent ready to take the leap. It took us this long to get here, it needs to be right.

But I want to kiss him. So badly.

If I rush into this, it could blow up in my face.

“Good. I’m glad.” He sighs with relief. His gaze softens, and he pushes my hair behind my ear. “Do you remember when we’d walk to lunch together in school?”

“Of course I do. We always bought coffee and shared jojos. It was my favorite part of the day.”

“I would always think about holding your hand, but I never had the courage.”

I slowly reach over to him, as he slips his fingers through mine—his large hands making my small ones disappear.

“So much for patience, right?” he remarks.

“This is still slow, Sean. This is perfect.”

He nods in agreement.

“I feel like these last few weeks have been really great. We still haven’t talked a whole lot about you though. I want to know more,” I throw out, tensely.

“You already know me. You know me better than most.”

“But what about the time you were in the army? I don’t know anything about the time you served.”

“There’s not much to tell. It was a lot of work, long hours.”