Page 67 of Small Town Swoo
“Night.” He took a few steps off the porch, then turned around and came back to me. Putting a hand on the back of my neck, he rested his forehead on mine. “Ari, I just want to tell you...you’re amazing.”
Despite my exhaustion, every nerve ending in my body lit up like the Fourth of July. “Thank you.”
“And I wouldn’t change a thing about tonight.”
“Me neither.”
He picked up his head and met my eyes. “Or about you.”
Smiling, I touched his cheek. “You better get out of here, or I’m not going to let you leave.”
With one last grin, he backed off and headed down the walk.
After shutting the door and locking it behind him, I stood there for a moment with my forehead pressed against it. I heard his engine come to life, the sound fading as he drove down the street.
I pinched my arm. Then my leg and my side and my cheek.
But this day still didn’t seem real.
I was a zombie the next morning at work, but I was the most cheerful zombie you can imagine. Every time I thought about the previous twenty-four hours, my heart would skip and my insides would turn cartwheels. When I caught a glimpse of myself in the diner’s bathroom mirror, I cringed for a second—bags under my eyes, bun sloppier than usual, the lower half of my face chafed a bit from Dash’s scruff.
But then I smiled. Because the girl in the mirror looked tired but completely happy. And I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen her that way.
I made it through my shift and went home, ditching my shoes and crashing hard face down on the couch in my diner uniform. Bone-weary, I fell into a deep sleep the second my eyes closed.
My dreams were good.
TWELVE
dash
I knockedon Ari’s front door around six o’clock, a bag of groceries under one arm and a scrap of paper in my pocket I hoped would change everything.
She didn’t answer, but she’d left the garage door open, and I’d seen her car parked inside. I knocked again, a little harder this time. A full minute later, the door opened.
I smiled as she blinked at the fading sunlight. It was obvious she’d been asleep. Still wearing her diner uniform, she had sleep lines on her face, the bun on the top of her head was listing precariously to one side, and that might have been drool on her lower lip.
She wiped at it with the back of her wrist. “Hey.”
“Hi. Were you sleeping?”
“Yeah.” She touched her hair. “I must look like I’ve been through it.”
“You look beautiful. Can I come in?”
“Of course.” She stepped back so I could enter, and after she closed the door behind me, I set the grocery bag down and scooped her in close for a hug. She smelled like maple syrup and bacon.
“Sorry to wake you,” I said.
“It’s okay. I need to get out of this uniform.”
“I can definitely assist with that.”
She laughed. “No acts of vulnerability until I take a shower.”
“That’s fine. While you’re doing that, I’ll make dinner for us.” I picked up my grocery bag and headed for the kitchen.
“You’re going to make dinner?” The surprise in her voice was evident as she trailed me through the living room.
