Page 20 of Hearts & Embers

"It has limitations."

I pulled my phone from my bag.

"Probably better if I give you mine too."

"That would definitely help."

A few moments later we’d exchanged numbers and sent quick messages to make sure everything worked.

"There."

He glanced at his screen.

"Now we have a backup plan."

"Very sensible."

"I have my moments."

We stood on the sidewalk for another minute before practicality finally won.

"It was good seeing you again, Aurora."

"You too, Jasper."

After a final exchange, we headed in opposite directions. As Elyssa and I made our way toward the car, I found myself smiling for reasons I had no intention of discussing with my best friend.

Chapter Ten

Jasper

The bookstore encounter remained on my mind during the drive home, although not for any of the reasons Cody Norris would have immediately assumed if he had been sitting in the passenger seat beside me. What stayed with me was the ease of the conversation.

Most of the people in my life had occupied their places for years, which meant our interactions were built upon long histories, shared experiences, and routines that no longer required much effort to maintain. Aurora represented something different.

Despite knowing her for only a short period of time, talking with her had felt surprisingly comfortable. The realization occupied my thoughts long enough that I found myself smiling more than once during the drive before eventually shaking my head and focusing on the road ahead.

The evening passed quietly. I spent part of it reading one of the books purchased earlier and another part handling routine household responsibilities that had accumulated throughout the week. Eventually my phone vibrated against the arm of the couch, drawing my attention away from a chapter discussing military campaigns that had become considerably less interesting than the name displayed on the screen.

Aurora: Made it home. Apparently buying six books in one afternoon is considered excessive according to Elyssa.

Me: Six? That’s amateur.

Aurora: See? That's exactly what I told her.

Me: Sounds like you're the sensible one.

Aurora: I'll be showing her this conversation.

The exchange continued naturally from there. What began as a joke about excessive book purchases gradually expanded into a conversation that lasted far longer than either of us appeared to expect.

We moved from books to work, then from work to entirely unrelated subjects without any particular plan directing the discussion. By the time I finally set my phone aside for the night, nearly an hour had passed and I was already looking forward to speaking with her again.

Over the next several days, messaging Aurora became part of my routine. Neither of us monopolized the other's time and neither expected immediate responses whenever work or other obligations, such as her rehabilitation, intervened.

The arrangement suited me because it felt realistic rather than forced. Some conversations lasted only a few minutes while others stretched throughout the evening whenever both of us happened to be free. The subjects changed constantly, but the ease never seemed to disappear. She told me stories about students, colleagues, and the endless administrative complications attached to modern education, while I shared stories about Firehouse 99 that protected privacy without sacrificing entertainment value.

By Thursday evening, I had largely exhausted my ability to pretend I wasn't planning to ask Aurora to dinner. Deciding to ask wasn't the difficult part. What occupied most of my attention was the possibility that she might not be interested in the same thing. The only other real question involved timing.