Page 58 of Robbin’ the Rich

The firelight from the bonfire was long behind us now, replaced by parking lot lamps and moonlight. Besides the surprise meeting in the corn maze, she'd been relaxed and playful, trading insults as jokes in her way.

But after talking to Ariel, something had shifted. The change wasn't sadness exactly. It was more like she'd drifted somewhere deeper inside herself, like part of her attention remained fixed on a thought she hadn't shared.

For a while I let it be. Robin wasn't someone who responded well to being pushed. Eventually, though, curiosity and concern won.

"Is everything okay?"

She glanced up. "Hm?"

"You seem quiet."

A small smile tugged at one corner of her mouth. Robin looked ahead again as we continued walking between rows of parked cars. For a moment I thought she might brush the question aside. Instead, she squeezed my hand lightly.

"I'm okay."

The answer wasn't entirely convincing. I waited. After a few seconds she sighed softly. "Do you ever have moments where something just... reminds you why you did something?"

I frowned slightly. "Maybe?"

"That's not a very confident answer."

"I'm trying to avoid accidentally agreeing to something before I understand the question."

Robin laughed under her breath.

"I don't know." She shrugged. "Talking to Ariel just got me thinking."

The far away tone in her voice had my attention.

"I think sometimes I forget that little things matter," she said.

Robin wasn't looking at me anymore. She was staring out across the dark field.

"You help where you can," she continued quietly. "You do what you're supposed to do. Then life keeps moving and you don't always get to see what happens afterward."

After a moment she shook her head slightly. "Sorry. That probably makes no sense."

"No, it makes sense."

Her eyes met mine then. The cool night air curled around us while people loaded pumpkins into trunks nearby.

Robin's expression softened. "Maybe I'm just in my feelings today."

I smiled. “It’s okay, we all need to feel our feelings sometimes.”

We reached my car a few moments later, neither of us seeming particularly eager for the evening to end. I found myself looking at her and having one of those moments that felt almost too good to trust. Because this whole thing still felt improbable. A month ago, I was grading papers, arguing with Nate about Dungeons & Dragons, and pretending I wasn't lonely.

Now I was standing in a pumpkin patch parking lot holding hands with Robin Sherwood. The same woman I'd spent months admiring at derby bouts and crowded bars. The woman who somehow made me laugh, challenged me all at the same time. And judging by the way she was looking at me now, maybe—just maybe—I wasn't the only one who felt it.

The roads were quieter on the drive back into town. Most of the traffic from the pumpkin patch had thinned out, leaving long stretches of dark country road lit by headlights and the occasional farmhouse porch light glowing in the distance.

Robin had gone quiet again. I kept one hand on the steering wheel and rested the other on her thigh.

"So… are you like friends with Jess?"

I glanced over. "Just colleagues. Why?"

Robin stared out the windshield for another few seconds. I could tell she wasn’t a big fan of vulnerability.