“Hey,” he says back.
We stand and stare at each other, and after hearing what he said to Peyton, it’s like I’m looking at a new person. I’m finally allowing myself to see the person he claims he is rather than the monster that’s haunted me for years.
“I just came over to…” He grips the back of his neck. “I wanted to see if you wanted to go grab a snow cone.”
My brows shoot up. Not exactly what I was expecting him to say.
“A snow cone?”
“Yeah. You know, shaved ice covered in flavored syrup?”
Two months ago, I would see his explanation as a way to call me an idiot, but the cute smile on his face reads of playful sarcasm. He isn’t insulting me but trying to make me smile.
I reward him with exactly what he’s aiming for.
“That’s pretty.” His hand raises a few inches but then drops back down at his side.
I did that to him. I made him unsure of his permission to touch me.
“I love your smile.”
I clamp my lips closed, refusing to snap out that he would’ve seen it more often if he wasn’t so mean, because we’re turning over a new leaf. If he’s changed, then I have to do the same. If I’m going to give him even half a chance, I can’t keep throwing our past in his face at every turn.
“I think a snow cone sounds amazing.”
His face displays his shock when I agree rather than reject his offer.
“Really?”
“So long as you’re paying.” I wink at him and suddenly feel like an idiot. Who winks at people anymore?
“Of course,” he agrees. “Can you drive? I don’t have a car.”
Guilt slams into me once again.
“Yeah, I can drive.”
He waits in the doorway while I grab my purse and keys before guiding me to the driveway. He doesn’t reach out to touch me, but he’s close enough that I can smell his cologne, and I can admit that I want his hand on me, even if it is at the small of my back while we walk together. The thought no longer makes my skin crawl or makes bile rise up in my throat, but at the same time, it also makes me wonder if I’ve lost my mind.
I’m willingly getting back into a car with Dalton. The last time this happened, I nearly killed us both.
“You can go the speed limit,” he teases ten minutes later as we slowly make our way to the snow cone stand.
“I don’t want to wreck,” I say, maintaining my slow speed and refusing to give in to his playful peer pressure.
“Will you tell me about that night?”
The car jerks abruptly as we pull up to a red light.
He doesn’t laugh like I expect him to, and when I look over at him, I wonder if he’s getting his memories back. It’s my number one worry these days.
I don’t want to keep lying to him, but confessing the truth will ruin everything. He just told his sister that he loves me, and as much as that shocked me, it also made my heart smile.
“You were mean to me that night,” I admit. “We’d just found out about your friends.”
“They’re no longer my friends,” he says. “I don’t need them. I need you.”
A lump forms in my throat as I try to figure out how to give him what he wants without admitting my role in the entire thing, but that’s impossible.
I glide the car into a gas station, parking off to the side, so I don’t interrupt the flow of traffic for those that are actually here to use the facilities.
“What’s wrong?” he asks as I turn to him.
“I’m so sorry,” I manage before the sobs wrack my body.
He reaches for me, managing to wrap his arms around my back. My seat belt doesn’t allow him to pull me against him, but the sentiment is there.
“Don’t apologize,” I tell him. “I can’t handle it.”
“I shouldn’t have been drinking that night,” he continues. “I’ll never do it again. Drinking and driving were incredibly stupid. I can’t believe I put you in danger.”
My head shakes back and forth, and the guilt in his own voice kills me.
“You didn’t,” I tell him past the lump in my throat.
“The doctor’s said my blood alcohol level was more than double the legal limit. I should be in jail.”
“I was driving,” I blurt. I can’t look at him, so I focus on his chest as the rest of it just flies out of my mouth. “You were so hateful that night, blaming me for what happened at the party. You insulted me the entire drive home. I wasn’t paying attention. The car drifted on the shoulder, and I was correcting it when you grabbed the wheel. We overcorrected. There was another car coming, and the wheel was jerked, and we went off into the ravine.”