“Perfect,” she whispers, noticing how close we are. It’s not lost on me either.
I go back to the previous conversation. “Long story short, I don’t know if it’ll help Eric. But I suspected Victoria would retaliate at some point. I just didn’t think it would be this fast, but I should’ve known better. That woman is always three steps ahead of her enemy. She lives for this shit, and probably gets off to it when she’s alone,” I groan. Talking about her puts me in a sour mood.
“Gross,” Gemma adds, which causes me to laugh.
I wipe out the skillet, and we get started on round two.
“The secret to making an amazing grilled cheese is buttering the bread, then putting it down. Otherwise, you can’t control how much butter it soaks up.” Our eyes meet for a brief second as I flip the bread. “Now, you put the cheese on while this side is still hot, then put the second piece of bread on top.”
Gemma unwraps American and cheddar, then adds them both. A minute later, I flip the sandwich and wait until it’s golden brown. When it’s good and toasty, I slide it on a plate.
“No fair. I was supposed to make dinner for you,” she playfully pouts.
“Cooking is my thing. I don't mind,” I tell her as we continue our process. “Plus, it’s more like teamwork. I butter, and you add the cheese.” I smirk.
After I cook three more sandwiches, she grabs a bag of chips from the pantry. We fill our plates, then go to the couch.
“What do you wanna watch?” Gemma asks, turning on the TV before handing me the remote.
I flip through the channels and settle on a Bruce Willis movie. It’s nothing but action and explosions, but Gemma enjoys it. After we’re done eating, she cleans up the kitchen, and I join to help her.
“I’ve got this,” she says around a yawn. It’s then I realize how exhausted she is. Too much shit has happened this week for her not to be, and we’ve had a long day.
“You should get some rest,” I tell her, grabbing the dishes she rinses to put in the dishwasher.
“Yeah, but I’ll just lie in bed. I won’t be able to sleep because my mind runs too much.”
“I totally get that,” I admit. Drying off my hands, I think back to the countless nights I’ve stayed awake becauseshewas on my mind.
“Let me take you home,” she offers. “It’s getting late.”
“I can walk.”
“Absolutely not. There’s a murderer in Lawton Ridge who has it out for you. It’s not an option, Tyler.” Gemma grabs her keys before I can argue.
“Valid point,” I admit, chuckling lightly, though it’s really not funny. Victoria’s unpredictable. “ButI’mdriving, just in case.”
She hands over the keys, then grabs a light jacket before we walk out. On the way home, I think about all that’s changed between us since I first showed up a few months ago. As Gemma sits next to me and hums along to the radio, I know now more than ever that coming home was the right decision.
We chat about nothing, and the conversation flows so easily that I’m pulling into my sister’s driveway in no time at all. After I turn off the engine, we sit together for a second, not wanting the night to end even though we’re both exhausted as hell.
“Tyler,” she whispers. “Thank you again for everything. You’ve surprisingly been my rock through all of this.”
A small smile meets my lips as I study her face and take in how genuine her words are. “I’m just returning the favor for all those letters you wrote me when I needed someone.”
Right now, I want to pull her into my arms and kiss her like there’s no tomorrow—in a way I’ve dreamed about since I saw her again for the first time. By the way she licks her lips, I know she’s thinking it too, but we can’t.
“Good night, Gemma,” I say.
“Night,” she tells me as I reach for the handle, then we both get out so she can hop in the driver’s side. Being with her is so damn electrifying, and it’s so hard to walk away, but somehow I do. I’ll kiss her when the timing is right, when she’s ready, but that’s not now.
As she backs out of the driveway, I send her a text.
Tyler: Drive safe. Let me know when you get home.
Before she pulls away, she messages me back.
Gemma: I will.