Page 30 of The Long Way Home
For once, I don’t have a smartass comeback. The words hang between us, and I can’t quite look away from her. My grin falters, just a little.
“You make that sound like a crime.”
“It definitely comes with a price I pay,” she mumbles.
I open my mouth, close it again. I catch the flicker of sadness in her eyes and decide to pivot. “Guess I’ll just have to live with being unforgettable.”
That earns me a tiny eye roll and the faintest pull at the corner of her mouth. But I’ll take it.
“All I’m saying,” she adds, “is the jury’s still out on ‘delightful.’”
I tilt my head. “Want to hear your top three?”
Rachel raises an eyebrow. “Why do I feel like this could go very wrong for you?”
“Oh, I’m sure it absolutely will,” I say, smiling. “But it’ll be fun.”
“Alright. I’m bracing myself.”
“Number one,” I say, lifting a finger. “You’re quick. Witty. Always have been. Even when you were nineteen and trying very hard to pretend I wasn’t the funniest person in your general vicinity.”
She laughs, more amused than defensive. “Bold of you to assume I noticed you at all at nineteen.”
“As I said, you’re a terrible liar, Sunny.” She rolls her eyes at my statement.
“Two,” I continue, “you are generous. You’ve always been good at knowing what people need and taking care of them, even though you don’t always do the same for yourself.”
She doesn’t respond, just smiles faintly and takes a sip of her latte.
“And three…” I say, grinning. I lean in a little because subtlety has never been my strength. “You have this way of making everything feel brighter. Like warmth you didn’t realize you’d been missing until it shows up again.”
Her stare snaps to mine.
“Even now,” I add quietly. “You still have that effect.”
She doesn’t answer right away. Her fingers still around her cup. Her smirk fades into something softer, more careful. I wonder if I stepped over a line with the last one. I’ve not been anything but direct and honest with Rachel before. Now doesn’t feel like a time to change that.
I clear my throat and sit back, breaking the quiet. “It’s been really good to see you, Rachel, to catch up a little bit.”
She looks up, and this time there’s no hesitation in her gaze. “Yeah, you too.”
I believe her. Her smile is small, but it reaches her eyes, making them crinkle at the corners. I watch it settle there and try not to think about how long it’s been since I’ve seen it.
Rachel cradles her latte with both hands, elbows resting on the small café table between us.
“You still a mess in the kitchen?”
“I’m getting by. Haven’t started any fires lately.”
She lets out a soft laugh. “That’s an improvement. Hey, at least now you’re technically qualified to save yourself.”
“You used to hover every time I cooked, like you didn’t trust me to make toast.”
“Rhett, Ididn’ttrust you to make toast,” she says, laughing. “You burned it every single time. Honestly, I’m not sure I’d trust you now.” She shakes her head. “You set off the fire alarm constantly.”
I smirk and take a sip of my coffee. “Fair.”
She leans back, her shoulders loosening the longer we talk. “Are you all moved into your new place yet?”
