All I Ask(51)

“But then we wouldn’t have this fun day together.” The first house we’d looked at was perfect. It was a few blocks off the beach but had amazing views. There were some upgrades he could do that would’ve been simple enough. I couldn’t believe how spacious it felt considering the square footage. I would’ve bought it, but he walked out after three minutes.

“Oh.” I laugh without humor. “This is fun?”

“I’m enjoying myself.”

“I’m glad one of us is,” I mutter to myself.

Each house we visit, I try to picture Derek and Everly, and then, somewhere about five minutes into the vision, I show up with groceries or a painting in my hands. Then, Chastity comes out of the front door, smiling with that humongous pregnant cat of hers, and we’re all happy. As though I’m not looking for a house for him, but for us—which I’m not.

It’s a dumb fantasy that keeps coming back.

“I’m begging you to just let me walk home.”

“Here, look at this one.” He ignores the comment and takes the listing paperwork the agent handed him from the front seat. Of course, I’m stuck back here with him because her office is literally her passenger seat.

Derek shakes his head. “Let’s see this one next. Teagan is getting hungry and it’s close to the store. We’ll get you a Snickers since you’re clearly in a mood.”

I wonder why that could be.

“You better get two.”

“Only if you’re nice.”

“Then I guess I’ll be hungry,” I retort. I lost the ability to be nice three houses ago.

We pull up to a brick home, and he won’t even get out of the car. “I don’t like it.”

I might kill him. “You haven’t even seen it yet!”

He shrugs. “I don’t want to see it.”

“I think you’re trying to torture me. I think this is all some ruse so that you can drive me crazy or force me to hang out with you.”

“Is it working?”

I glare at him.

“I’ll take that as a yes. So, if it is a ruse, I’m winning. If we’re looking for a house, which I assure you, we are, I’m still winning. Honestly, today is perfect.”

Instead of responding, I bang my head on the seat in front of me. This is my version of hell. I’m trapped in a car with a man I still have feelings for, looking at houses, and imagining myself in the house with him.

We drive to the other side where the tourists really never go. It’s definitely the location I would prefer to live in. I like the privacy this section of the island offers. It’s not about the wild horses or how big of a house you can build.

It’s true beach homes.

What people could afford to build and where they could live a comfortable life.

“So, about that kiss…”

My head shoots to his to find him sitting there with a smirk.

“Now is not the time,” I say quietly.

“Why not? I’m sure you’ve been nuking it in your head for over a week now. I think the car, where you can’t escape, is the perfect time.”

Oh my god. I’m seriously debating throwing myself from a moving vehicle to avoid this. “Seriously, not now.”

We don’t know this agent and who she might gossip to in town. And anyway, we were doing just fine pretending nothing ever happened.

“Well, if you don’t want to talk, that’s fine.”

I breathe a sigh of relief. At least he’s being reasonable.

Talking about that kiss is bad. Talking about it makes it real and I’m just fine letting it be a dream. He has no idea what dating when you have a kid is like and I’m not ready to be hurt again.

“I’ll talk.” Oh, for the love of God. “I liked that kiss. In fact, I’ve thought about it a lot and I think you liked that kiss.”

“I’d like you to stop saying kiss,” I say between gritted teeth.

“Which leads me to wonder why you liked the kiss so much and why you stopped the kiss.”

There’s something wrong with me, that’s why. It’s the only thing I can come up with. He was married, had a kid, I had a kid, and our lives—and we—are nothing like we were before. We’ve grown up, we aren’t the same starry-eyed kids with big hopes and dreams. We’re both battle worn, tired, and have responsibilities that come first. I can’t jump into a relationship—or go around kissing him—when I don’t trust my heart not to make more of things. That’s why I stopped it. None of that is going to come out of my mouth, though.

“I’m wondering if I could survive a quick exit.”

“If you liked it and I liked it, what could that mean?”

“That you’re trying to make me crazy?” I suggest.

“It means that we should kiss again.”

That stops me. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You should kiss me again.” Derek watches me, his eyes showing no signs of humor.

“You’re kidding me.”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?”

No, he doesn’t. He’s dead serious. He thinks we should kiss again and that now is the appropriate time to bring it up. Do I want to kiss him again? Yes. Yes, I do. Do I think it’s a good idea? Not at all.