Page 28 of Chasing Home
Suddenly, Johnny’s forearm glides along mine as he reaches across the table toward the stack of napkins. I watch as he grabs one from the top of the stack and then brings his arm back, purposefully touching me again, this time lifting his eyes to look at me as he does. I grow still. He smiles gently, and then his touch is gone. When I look at what he’s doing, I find him using the napkin to wipe at the already dry table.
It’s not until I notice my discomfort has settled that I realize he didn’t need a napkin at all. That move had been just for me.
“I’m sorry, Pop, but I’m exhausted, and I promised Rory I’d walk her home tonight. Can we talk about Halloween next time?” he asks, yawning loudly.
I don’t buy it, and as the group sweeps their eyes between the two of us, it’s clear they don’t either. I’ve grown tired of caring what they think to bother adding an excuse, though. That’s a problem for Monday morning when Anna will no doubt ask about it.
“Yeah. I’m tired too,” I mutter.
Poppy lets it go and flashes us an easy smile. “Of course. Let us know when you’re coming back so we can be ready to drop you at home.”
Johnny does a two-finger salute, and then Darren’s scooting out of the booth to let us out. I say goodbye quickly and follow behind Johnny as he leads us out of the bar.
The moment we step outside and the cooling evening breeze hits, I have to swallow a moan. It’s silent, the street empty besides the two men leaning against a car smoking cigarettes. Johnny waves at them, and they return it before we turn our backs to them and start down the sidewalk.
My nose feels oily beneath my makeup after a long night in the hot bar, and I’m beyond ready to take it off and get in bed. It’s probably half melted off my face at this point. At least it’s dark so Johnny can’t see the splotchiness anymore.
“For what it’s worth, I don’t think the house is haunted. Raggedy as fuck, yes. But not haunted,” he says.
“Raggedy? That’s rude.”
“Rude but true. You have to know it isn’t safe.”
“It’s safe enough,” I argue stubbornly.
We keep our pace slow, easy. I can’t help but look down his legs at his booted feet, curious how much he has to be stunting his large steps to keep up with such a leisurely pace. Those things are a near kilometre long.
“Safe enough isn’t really all that settling, darlin’.”
“I wasn’t aware that I was supposed to be settling you, sugar.”
His laugh fills the street, bouncing off the much nicer, sturdier homes we pass. It makes my pulse skitter, and I kick my toe at the sidewalk harder than usual on my next step.
“You know, I actually like that pet name. Keep it coming,” he teases, glancing my way just long enough to wink.
“With all the winking you do, some would assume you constantly have something in your eyes.”
“Fuck me, you like busting balls,” he says, a low rumble from deep in his chest following the words.
“You should stop leaving them so open for me to abuse.”
“How do you suggest I do that?”
I open my mouth to shoot back some sort of teasing dig but close it before I do. Honestly, I don’t want him to change anything he’s doing. This back-and-forth feels good. It’s easy, and I haven’t had easy in a long time.
“Did you want to walk me home tonight because you’re worried about the rampant crime in Cherry Peak?” I ask, changing the subject.
The tip of a finger finds my wristbone and glides across my knuckles before disappearing again, leaving me with skin scattered with goosebumps.
“No. I wanted to walk you home because I’ve been trying to get time alone with you for a month now with no luck. I figured this might be my only shot, and I wasn’t about to pass on it. Even a few minutes is better than nothing,” he admits.
It’s the confidence in his admission that affects me the most. The surety in the fact that he actually wants to spend time with me in any way he can just so he can get to know me that little bit more. It threatens to do my head in.
I’m not used to such fearless pining. Especially not from someone I hardly know and have turned down on multiple occasions.
“You’re putting a hell of a lot of eggs in one basket. How do you know you’ll like what you find the further you dig?”
His shrug is adorable in the most naïve of ways. “I’ve got a good sense of intuition.”