“I like that,” I say, and that night, she cooks side by side with me. It takes longer than it should, but every time she comes close to me, I have to stop and kiss her. I often wake in the middle of the night, afraid I’m going to have a nightmare and scare her. When I see her lying there, I just have to touch her.
That night, we slip into bed, and I get lost in her, her kisses, her touch, everything about her. We’ve been good about going slow, and I refuse to push her. She’ll have to be the one to take that next step.
I’m making her tea the next morning when she slips her arms around my waist and kisses my back. “Good morning,” she mumbles. “When did you get up?”
“About an hour ago,” I say, looking at the clock. “I was just coming to wake you. What time do we need to be at the carnival?”
“In about an hour,” she says, going to the counter. “There are so many balloons,” she says, looking around. We carry our drinks outside and sit watching nothing, her feet in my lap. “How do you want to handle this?” She takes a sip of her tea and looks at me.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Us at the carnival.” Her eyes are on me. “Like, are we going to tell people we’re a couple, or do we keep it to ourselves?”
“If it was up to me, everyone would already know,” I say. “I don’t have anything to hide.”
“I don’t have anything to hide either, but,” she says, and my stomach drops, “I was just engaged and …”
“He’s dating someone else,” I say, “and he’s been seen with her more than once.”
“I know, but just because he’s like that doesn’t mean I have to be like that,” she says. It bugs the shit out of me that she doesn’t want people to know we are together, but I have to respect her. I don’t say anything to her, the conversation just stops, and when I slip on my blue jeans and gray shirt, I run my hands through my hair, and for the first time, it feels long. I walk out of the bedroom just in time to see her in blue cutoffs and a gray shirt tied at the waist.
“You ready?” I ask, and she slips on her white sneakers while I do the same. “Do you want me to meet you there, or do you want to take one car?”
“I know that you’re angry,” she says, standing and looks at me. “And I get it. But …”
“But nothing, Emily,” I say. I’m not angry, and I’m not mad. I’m disappointed, but I also know she is the one who is going to decide what happens in this relationship. I lost that right when I left. “I’ll just meet you there. That way, no one says anything.” I turn to walk out the door and feel like an asshole, but I’m stubborn enough not to turn around and go back to see if she is okay. Instead, I wait in my truck, seeing her come out with her head down as she walks to her car. She takes off without saying anything to me, and I drive right behind her, and when we pull up to the carnival, I’m shocked. This looks like the state fair and not just a school carnival. I get out of the truck and look over to see that she is already walking in. “Fuck,” I say under my breath, and before I can chase after her, I’m joined by Quinn, Keith, Toby, and Reed. “Boys,” I say to them, and they all smile at me. “This is insane.”
“Have you known my mother to do anything normal?” Reed says, and I just shake my head. “There are legit carnival games where you can win stuffed animals.”
“You know that this is the state fair, right?” Quinn says. “She called and begged them to come this weekend and paid for it.”
“I don’t even have a car,” Toby says. “I’m going to go and see if I can get Laura to ride the Ferris wheel with me.” He walks away to the group of girls that are waiting at the ticket booth.
We walk through the fair, and Reed was right. Olivia blew this shit up. There are so many people here that it’s hard to walk. I spot Beau and my mother walking along, hugging them both, and it bothers me that I’m not with Emily. It bothers me so much that I walk around the whole place looking for her. I finally catch her with her students, and she laughs at something one of them said.
I watch her, my chest full of love, and just as I knew she would, she feels me staring at her and turns to look around and spots me. She raises her hand this time and calls me over. I walk over to her. “Have fun, girls,” she tells them and then turns to walk my way. “Where have you been?”