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“Wait. I thought Maisie was leaving after she replaces her camper?” Jedd’s voice of reason pops the little bubble of my happiness.
Jedd’s not wrong. Maisie hasn’t said that she’s considered staying in Everette. I don’t know if that’s changed. The only thing I know about that situation is that she’s saving up to replace her camper and that she’s staying in my apartment until she does.
But what happens when she buys a new home on wheels?
I shake my head, not getting lost in the thoughts that far into the future. “I don’t know. We haven’t talked about it.”
My brothers expressions shift from the teasing smiles to something more cautious.
“It’s still new. I don’t even know if she’s interested in something with me.”
“Well did she kiss you back?” Duke asks.
I nod.
“Then maybe you should talk to her about it. Get on the same page.”
My brothers all nod, like cornering the raven-haired beauty that flew into my life like a bullet train and having a conversation about what the kiss means is easy.
But it’s not. Not when we’re just establishing a level of comfort and trust between us. Not when she’s still gun shy.
“Communication is the key to any healthy relationship,” Finch says sagely, and my brothers all nod along with him.
I guess I’m adding “have the relationship talk” with Maisie to my never-ending task list.
My feelings are already big enough that I know if she’s — if we’re — not on the same page, it’s gonna hurt.
But better to be hurt now, rather than getting in deeper with her and then being devastated when she leaves Everette in her rearview mirror.
Chapter 20
Maisie
The obnoxious chime of a bell rings as I swing into Brewed Awakening for the second time in two days. Audra’s propped on my hip because I didn’t want to take long enough to strap her into a carrier.
Harlan kissed me. What the hell does that even mean?
I both want to dance around in happiness and curl into a ball with the covers over my head.
Knowing that I was fully in my own head about the brief but strong punch of Harlan’s kiss — the situation called for female perspective. Something that had been lacking from my life for longer than I could remember.
Jem’s brown hair is tied up in a high pony, the waves of the tail brushing across her neck, dangling earrings dancing as she stands behind an espresso machine with the poised confidence of a general directing troops. There’s a low chattering din of customer conversation floating around the space and the upbeat music playing through the speakers is energizing but not loud enough to deter conversation.
“Maisie!” she calls out when she sees me.
Am I really intruding on her work day to talk to her about a kiss? A barely-there kiss that I can’t get out of my head?
Fuck. I shouldn’t have come. Or I should have at least texted first to see when would be a good time.
I spent the better part of last night tossing and turning in bed, reliving the feel of Harlan’s mouth pressed against mine, and the second I had Audra fed and dressed, we bolted out the door.
The line of customers waiting to put in their orders is nearly out the door but moving forward at a steady clip. The door chimes behind me and I step out of the way, knowing that I’m not going to order anything.
“Grab a seat and gimme fifteen minutes,” Jem calls, her hands working furiously to grab cups and pour coffee while two other people bustle around her making drinks or plating food and one works the register.
Fuck it. Just fuck all of it. I need advice.
Even if that advice comes from Harlan’s sister-in-law.
