It’s a sleepy summer evening and we’re driving home from dinner. The sun is reflecting off the mountains and setting everything in a fiery light and Utah has never looked more beautiful and I’ve never been more indifferent.
Across the car from me, Jason reaches over to rest his hand on my leg. Standard procedure in the car. And although I know that I love him, I can’t even muster up a response to this simple gesture.
As we ease to a stop at a red light, he looks over at me. “You okay?”
He knows me too well already. If I don’t want him to ask what’s up, I have to try to put on a better face. I’m just so exhausted tonight.
“Just tired.”
He squeezes my leg. “I’m glad you came to get food with me, even though you were tired.”
“I wasn’t even sure you wanted me to.” The words spill from my mouth before I can stop them.
The light turns green and his response sounds distracted as he focuses on the traffic.
“You’re kidding, right? Of course I want to spend time with you. Why wouldn’t I?”
We turn right onto the main street. I form my words more carefully this time.
“After everything I shared with you … I was afraid I scared you off.”
“I’ve told you it takes more than that to scare me.”
That’s what he says, yeah. What else is he supposed to say? A car switches lanes ahead of us and he brakes gently to let them in.
“It sure seemed like you were hinting that you didn’t want to hang out tonight.” I can’t seem to drop the subject.
The light turns conveniently red and he slams on the brakes, bringing the car to a halt and whirling to face me. The goofy brown hazel eyes are blazing, but not with anger. It’s more … determination?
“Jessica. You’re always welcome at my house or anywhere I go. Even on the rare occasion that I don’t feel like company, I still want to spend time with you.”
I duck my eyes. He lifts my chin back up. I search his eyes for a moment and find nothing but sincerity.
“I need my copilot,” he says.
I give a pained sort of chuckle; he’s referencing his terrible “navigator” skills when he rode passenger on our road trip. I was a much better navigator, DJ, snack-attendant … copilot.
“I need my partner in crime,” he continues.
I feel myself softening at his words, leaning towards him.
“I need my best friend.” The setting sun is bouncing off the green in his eyes. He cups my cheek with his hand. “We have lots more shenanigans to get into.”
He leans into me and I lean into him and our lips meet in a slow kiss, one of my favorite kinds, the kind with a soft and reassuring pressure that leaves you with shuddery breaths and a racing pulse. I swear I could stay there all day kissing him, basking in his words, letting him take some of the heavy away. And I want to, I want to stay there with him. I want more time with him, I want all the time in the world with him. I want a life with him.
Crap.
HONK.
We break apart and realize the light has been green for probably a good while now. He gives me this tiny smile and leaves a hand on my leg. The other hand returns to the steering wheel and we drive forward.
Please help me find the courage to stick around for all sorts of shenanigans with you and know that I love you.
