Page 61 of Just Between Us

“Sharing is great,” I assured him.

When the barista rang us up, Sam tipped far more than the customary 20 percent and the girl behind the counter blushed, stammering out her thanks.

As we sipped our drinks and pinched off bites of brownie, he asked interesting, thoughtful questions. Not the usual first-date small talk, but real things. What made me want to be a therapist,my opinion about current events, what’s the hardest situation I’ve ever had with a client. He also made me laugh easily and often, with self-deprecating stories about himself.

It was comfortable and easy.

Now, with our coffee finished and the brownie nothing more than crumbs, I’m surprised to find I’m not ready for it to end. So, when Sam suggests we walk around the bookstore, I agree without hesitation.

He pauses at a sticker display near the register and picks one up. On the shiny holographic surface are the letters STFUATTDLAGG in bold pink script.

He turns to me, brows furrowed in confusion.

“What does this mean?”

I pull out my phone to do a quick Google search. When I read the Urban Dictionary entry, I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. I turn it for him to read my screen, his face reddening all the way to the tips of his ears.

“Oh my god,” he says under his breath, looking around the store. “That’s, wow. Cassie, our sixty-something-year-old math teacher has this sticker on her iPad.”

My eyes widen. “Good for her,” I say under my breath when Sam drops the sticker back in its slot.

He’s flustered, embarrassed, and so earnest about it, I can’t help but laugh a short huff of a breath.

He really is so cute.

We continue browsing, and Sam picks out the new Fredrik Backman book, while I’m stuck deciding between two thrillers I saw last time I was here. I hold them up, one in each hand.

“Help me choose?”

“That one.” Sam immediately points to the one in my left hand. “I’ve already read it. It’s great. Never saw the twist coming. Had me up until two in the morning.”

“Sold.” I tuck it under my arm and we head to the register.

When we do finally leave the bookstore, paper bags in hand, Sam walks me to my car. He drops his keys twice, nervesevident, and his hands keep going to his pockets and then out again.

“I’d really like to see you again, Cassie.”

My response comes easy. The truth is, I’d also like to see him again. Today’s been nice.

I bite my bottom lip to stop the smile that threatens to bloom. “Text me. We’ll plan something.”

Sam starts to back away, but then he pauses, takes a step forward again. “It’s hard not to ask if I can kiss you.”

I’m about to tell him to ask me when he leans down and brushes his lips across the apple of my cheek.

“But I think waiting will give me even more to look forward to next time,” he says, his voice equal parts sweet and mischievous.

Oh my. Sam is a smooth talker. This is not what I expected.

As I drive back to the apartment, I wait for it—the excitement, the butterflies in my belly, the giddy rush of starting something new. And while those butterflies are currently asleep, dormant in some corner, I do feel something. A tiny flicker of warmth.

Touching a finger to the spot on my cheek Sam kissed, I wonder if this is all it took to move on from Liam, who put himself in the friend zone and needs to stay there.

A great day with a good man who made me laugh and seems kind.

Maybe this is exactly what I need. No, I correct, gripping the steering wheel harder. Not maybe. This is without a doubt what I need.

And for the rest of the afternoon I will my heart to believe it.