The Resurrection of Wildflowers (Wildflower #2)(22)

I look at him like he’s lost his ever-loving mind. “You like my anger?” I volley. “Are you insane?”

His eyes meet mine for a brief moment before they’re back on the road. “If you’re angry at me, it means you still care.”

He has a point there. I look down at my legs, bare since I wore a pair of high-waisted shorts. “I don’t want to be angry at you,” I admit in a whisper.

“Then why are you?” I notice the way the muscle in his jaw twitches, waiting for my response.

“Because it’s easier than admitting the truth.”

The God-awful disgusting truth.

“And what’s the truth?”

“Don’t make me say it,” I beg with a shake of my head. I don’t want to say it out loud. That makes it all the more real and makes me an even shittier person than I already am.

“I think I need to hear you say it.”

I bite my lip, holding back tears. My voice is barely above a whisper when I say, “I never stopped caring about you. I moved on, but my heart didn’t.”

He pulls the truck abruptly off to the side of the road. Gravel and dirt kick up behind us as he slams the vehicle into park. He turns slowly in his seat to look at me.

“Thayer—” I start to question, but he doesn’t give me a chance to finish my thought. He cups my cheek in one hand, his mouth descending on mine in less than a heartbeat.

There’s a second there where my brain wants to fight back.

He hurt you! It cries out, wanting me to push him away, but I can’t. My body doesn’t get the memo. It sinks into him, sighing in relief at the feel of his mouth on mine. I think I’d convinced myself that our connection wasn’t as strong as I believed, but it was—it is. There are all kinds of different loves in the world, but the kind I share with Thayer can’t be broken by time, or distance, or anything else. We could be on separate continents, and it would still exist in this form.

His name is a whisper on my lips when he deepens the kiss.

A part of my brain is convinced this is a dream.

There’s no way this can be real.

But then I take inventory—the scratch of his scruff against my face, the fabric of his shirt scrunched in my hands, the rough feel of his hands on my face—and I know that this is very real.

He pulls away, just slightly, our breaths still mingling together. “You come back here, to this town, and it’s like you never even left.”

I close my eyes, exhaling shakily. “But I did.”

His tongue slips out, moistening his lips. “But you did,” he echoes. I wait for him to pull away, to put a pin in this. I didn’t come back here thinking we’d have a second chance. Instead, he shocks me when he says, “Date me.”

“What?” I stutter, convinced I couldn’t have possibly heard him right.

“Date me,” he repeats, scanning my face. “We … I,” he corrects, “never did things right with you before. Let me change that. Go on a date with me.”

My eyes narrow stubbornly. “Are you asking me or telling me?”

He grins, shaking his head. I stupidly love the way his hair falls over his forehead. I itch to brush it back, but clasp my hands together instead.

“Will you go on a date with me, Salem? A real date?”

I hesitate, my heart skipping a beat. But there’s only one answer I can give Thayer.

“Yes.”





CHAPTER 16





THAYER





Salem climbs out of my truck with a quiet goodbye, walking back over to her mom’s house. My phone is still lit up with her contact information where I put in her new number.

I can still taste her mouth on mine. Smiling, I rub my fingers over my lips.

I’m not sure what overcame me when I pulled my truck off the road and kissed her, but I don’t regret it. I’ve been starved for the taste of her for too long.

And she said yes to dating me.

That gives me hope—that even through her hurt, she might find her way back to me. As for what kind of date I want to take her on, I have no idea. I don’t want to just take her to a restaurant—there’s nothing wrong with that, but I want to put more effort into it, show her that I’m thinking of her and want to do something special.

Locking my truck behind me, I get out and head inside to get Winnie out of her crate in the laundry room. My good girl yawns and stretches before showering me in kisses. I let her out into the backyard to go pee. As soon as she does, she scurries back in, grabs her treat from me, and dives into her cushion.

Shaking my head, I open the fridge and grab a bottle of water, guzzling it down.

It’s obvious Salem still has feelings for me, even if those feelings might only be attraction. I’m hoping with her giving me this chance to take her out on a date, do things right this time around, there’s a chance for us.

Passing by Winnie, I give her head a scratch and swipe up the remote. Turning the TV on, I flip through the channels, settling on the sports channel. It’s a golf tournament—not really my thing, but I’m not planning on paying too much attention anyway.

Pulling out the chair at my puzzle table, I sit down and pick up a piece.

I’m not sure what it is that first drew me to puzzles. I liked to do them even as a kid. It’s a dorky hobby, but who gives a fuck. I only do shit I enjoy.