When Sparks Fly - Page 97

“One of the guys from Jerome’s work had a bachelor party, and this was a prize. He brought it over yesterday so I wouldn’t be so lonely.” He pouts and rests his cheek on Fake Avery’s boob. “I found one of the shirts you must have left behind and put her in your spot on the couch. So far I’ve tried to get her to talk to me half a dozen times since Jerome brought her here. She’s rather quiet, but it almost feels like you’re here.”

“The quiet part is probably welcome.”

“Not even a little. I miss that sassy mouth of yours, but I’ll be honest, I’ll probably bring her to bed with me again tonight.”

“Again? You’re not serious.”

“I might be, you never know.” His smile turns serious. “I have this thing I want to try with you.”

I’m taken aback by the abrupt change of topic, so I stumble over my response.

“It’s okay if the answer is no. I’ll understand if you’re not ready,” he says quickly. “Let’s just forget it. Why don’t you pick a movie?”

“Hold on a second, you went from sleeping with a blow-up doll to asking me if I want to do a thing with you, with zero transition. What kind of thing are you talking about?” I tip my head.

“I thought maybe it would be cool if we did something together. Like we both visited a familiar place at the same time. Actually, in truth, my therapist said it would be a good idea, and I agreed since we’ve done a lot of cool things together.”

“We really have, haven’t we? Where should we go?”

“They’ve put up the holiday decorations at that park where we used to play soccer with the guys. We could go there.”

“Sure. That sounds great.”

“Tomorrow morning work okay for you? Eightish?”

“That sounds perfect.”

“Okay, great.” He turns on the TV and pulls up the shared Netflix app. We settle on an action flick, because we agree that any movie with making out is probably off the list for the time being.

The next morning I get up early, throw on a pair of jeans, a long-sleeved shirt, sweater, add all my winter gear, and drive over to the park. I spot Declan’s SUV. The snow is fresh from last night, so I send him a message and follow the footprints he’s left leading to one of the paths where we’d sometimes go for jogs to warm up before a game.

I fire off a message, asking where he is since I still can’t seem to see him.

Declan: Head for the bench with the best view.

I’m tempted to ask which one, because there are several benches with the best view around here and we always used to debate which one we loved the most. There are several that are popular and then a few benches that are hidden gems. I head for one of those.

When I get there, I’m disappointed to find it vacant, apart from someone’s discarded travel mug. I hit the video call button and Declan’s face pops up on the screen.

He’s wearing a beanie I gave him for Christmas years ago and a scarf that I knitted for him when I briefly took up the hobby for one season and made literally everyone I loved a scarf because they were simple and hard to mess up.

“Hey. You’re not here.”

He smiles and my heart stutters. “You picked the bench with the view of the valley, the one that’s perfect during sunset, right?”

“Yeah, where are you?” As soon as I ask, I already have the answer. “You’re where the sunrise is the prettiest, aren’t you?”

“Yup.” He pans out, showing me the view from where he’s standing.

“Should I head there?” It’s on the other side of the trail. At least a good fifteen minutes away.

“It’s okay. Why don’t you stay there and I’ll stay here, and we can have a coffee and talk.”

“I don’t have a coffee with me.”

“Yes, you do. It’s on the bench.”

I touch the side of the travel mug and find that it’s warm. “How long have you been here?”

“A while. Remember when we stumbled across that bench?”

I brush off the powdery snow and take a seat, thinking back to when we first started playing outdoor soccer together on the rec league in this area. “Oh my gosh, a couple was dry humping each other!”

“Yup. I had to cover your mouth and drag you out of there so we wouldn’t interrupt them.”

“I think short of a bear charging them, they wouldn’t have stopped for much.”

“Probably not,” Declan agrees.

“I wonder if they’re still together.” I run my fingers along the smooth wood, passing over letters carved by another couple.

“I wonder how many benches they dry humped on in this park.”

We sit there for a while, reminiscing on opposite sides of the park, close but still apart. It’s pretty much a metaphor for our current relationship status.

Tags: Helena Hunting Romance
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