Page 144 of The Way the Heart Breaks: Jade’s Story

“Because I usually know.”

“Cocky.”

“Confident.”

“Same thing.”

“Not even close.” She smiles.

Then she leans her head against the seat.

“I'm glad you're okay.”

I look at her. “I'm glad you're okay.”

She turns toward me. “I wasn't the one fighting.”

“No.”

“You were worried about me?”

“Always.”

She goes quiet. I realize what I said, so does she.

I clear my throat. “Not in a creepy way.”

She starts laughing. “I didn't think it was creepy.”

“Good.”

“You're cute when you get nervous.”

“I don't get nervous.”

“You do.”

“Never.”

She smiles. “Okay, Tommy.”

A few minutes later, I turn onto Fern Creek.

Jade points ahead. “That's us.”

I slow down as the driveway comes into view and turn in, and then I keep going. Jesus. It's long.

The gravel stretches back from the road, wide enough that I don't have to worry about turning around once I pull in. Fields open up on either side, and the house sits farther back than I'd expected, surrounded by enough land that it feels more like a farm than a house.

I pull all the way up the drive and swing the car around in the wide turnaround near the house before putting it in park.

Jade unbuckles her seat belt. “Thanks for bringing me home.”

I shut off the car and get out; I walk around and open the door for her.

She looks up at me. “You really are determined to do that every time?”

“If I don’t, you better tell me I’m slipping.” I hold out my hand, and she takes it.