When Sparks Fly

After a while I notice that Declan is on the move. “Where are you going? Are you heading this way?”

He shakes his head. “Not yet. Give me a little more time, Avery.”

My heart clenches, but I understand that he needs to work through this, and I’m willing to wait, because I think we’re worth it.

Over the next two weeks we plan several more of these outings where we meet, but on opposite sides of wherever it is we are. The distance between us shrinks until I can see him standing on the other side of the skating rink in the park close to our condo. But I know better than to try to get to him at this point. He has to come to me, not the other way around, in his time, when he’s ready.

“Tomorrow can we go for coffee? Real coffee? Face-to-face?” he asks.

I have to shake off my surprise. “Yeah. Of course. Name the time and place and I’m there.”

“Nine? Would that work for you? At Coffee Corner? The one near the indoor soccer park?”

“That’s perfect. I can’t wait.”

“Me either. See you then.”

The next morning I’m up ridiculously early. I spend a stupid amount of time getting ready, change my outfit six times, and end up settling on a pair of jeans, a Henley, and one of my favorite hoodies that Declan bought me for Christmas a couple of years back. It gets worn at least twice a week.

I’m aware the coffee shop location of choice is purposeful. It’s far enough away from the condo to prevent us from making choices that might set us back before we’re ready to move forward again, if we’re ever ready to move forward.

I made a bad call when I went to see Sam without talking it through with Declan first. I should have put his feelings ahead of Spark House, especially since he always put me first where Sam was concerned. I would have handled it differently if I could. My biggest fear is that we won’t be able to get past this, and that I won’t be able to manage my own feelings for him and remain his friend. The hardest part of being in love with him is that I don’t know how not to be that anymore. But for now, this is where we’re at.

Despite my being fifteen minutes early, he’s already sitting at a table in the corner, coffee in hand, fresh pastries sitting in front of him and the empty seat.

He pushes his chair back and stands, a shy, somewhat uncertain smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

I cross over to him, tugging my gloves free. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

We both laugh and then look away. It’s never been awkward like this with us. But everything is new and different, and our history has changed our story.

“Macadamia nut latte for Avery!” the barista calls out.

“I went ahead and ordered for you. I hope that’s okay.”

“Yeah, sure. Perfect timing, really.”

I grab my coffee and Declan stands there, waiting until I return to the table with my latte and shrug out of my coat. He hangs it on the hook and waits for me to take my seat before he takes his.

“You look fantastic. I’ve missed you like crazy.”

“I’ve missed you too. And you always look fantastic.”

We both chuckle again.

“This is harder than I thought it would be. I want everything to be the way it was, but so much has changed,” Declan says softly.

“It’s a fresh start of sorts, but we already laid a strong foundation, Declan, and we’re rebuilding slowly.”

He nods. “There have been so many times over the past few months that I’ve wanted to say fuck it and come knocking on your door, but every time I had to ask myself if doing that was going to set me back, set us back, and if there was any doubt, I knew I wasn’t ready.”

I love him so much, my heart feels like it’s breaking and sewing itself back together at the same time. “What changed?”

“Nothing? Everything? I needed to see if I can be a better version of me when I’m with you. I don’t ever want to hurt you like I did again, Avery. That kind of guilt is too hard for either of us to carry around with us.”

He reaches across the table, palm up, and lines my fingertips up with his, our hands curling together. It’s the first time I’ve touched him in months. And despite the fact that it’s very much innocent contact, it makes me hyperaware that the separation had been very necessary for both of us. We’d spent so much time together, immersed in each other’s lives, that we’d almost become an extension of each other. We need to learn how to stand on our own before we learn how to stand together again.