“Maddie is going to need her uncle,” she said. “I’m going to need you. Of course you’ll be around.”
Chapter
Twenty-Three
By the time they left Becca’s house, Lauren felt like she’d been wrung out. The most strenuous thing she’d done was clip multiple clothespins to her cardigan—her final tally was six, probably enough to win the nail polish, but it hadn’t exactly been on her mind by the end of the shower. It had been a day, and it was only two o’clock.
And if she was feeling spent from the emotional tension of the last few hours, she could only imagine how Asa must feel. He was quiet as they walked to her car, his hands in his pockets. His sister had let him go with a few laughing reminders to actually check your phone, dude as her due date approached. His mother hadn’t made any more overtures, whether out of respect for Asa’s boundaries or deference to her husband’s, it wasn’t clear. Lauren suspected whatever fractures existed in that marriage already, today may have cracked them wide open. She hoped for Asa’s sake that they had, that things would be different, but she also knew that it would be a long road ahead.
Since they’d arrived late, they’d had to park halfway down the block. Asa was walking on the grass, the sidewalk too narrow for the both of them, and she didn’t know if the distance was deliberate on his part. Back in the nursery, she’d held his hand, but now he seemed self-contained and pensive.
“I shouldn’t have gone off like that,” she said finally. “They’re your family. I had no business—”
He shook his head, but whether it was because he was agreeing with her or rejecting her apology, she didn’t know. “How did you know about the potato soup?”
“Oh.” She curled her fingers into her palms, hoping she didn’t sound like too much of a psycho. “Kiki told me. That you make it sometimes, anyway, and then when your mom mentioned it, I figured . . .”
She shrugged, not needing to state the obvious. It hadn’t been a stretch to assume it was the recipe from his childhood.
“Did you mean it?” he asked, still not looking at her. “When you said I was with you. Did you mean that?”
Lauren’s first instinct was to play it off. It was too soon, after all—they’d been hanging out more, they’d been physical a few times, she was sure that the last thing he’d want to do would be to give it some kind of label or definition.
But that was a disservice to the way she felt about him. And, she was beginning to realize, it was a disservice to him. She’d had this impression of Asa for so long as this easygoing, flippant guy, but the more she got to know him, the more she saw how serious he could be, how sincere. How sweet.
“I meant it,” she said. “And I’m with you.”
It would’ve been perfect if she could’ve left it at that, but of course the minute the words were out of her mouth, she started second-guessing herself. Maybe she’d misunderstood the question and was making all kinds of assumptions and bold declarations she shouldn’t.
They’d reached her car, and she was grateful for the excuse to dig through her purse for her keys, fumbling with them before locating the right one. It gave her something to do, something to focus on other than Asa’s reaction.
“If that’s what you want.” Why did she have to be the only person on the planet who still had to open her car door with an actual key, instead of a push-button key fob? Manual dexterity was apparently one of the first things to go in moments of stress. “We don’t have to—”
She never got the rest of that sentence out. Asa came toward her so fast she had no time, could only let out a surprised squeak as he pressed her against the car door, his hands in her hair and his mouth hard and hungry on hers. Dimly, she was aware of the sound of her car keys hitting the pavement as her arms went around his neck.
“It’s what I want,” he said against her mouth. “No doubt.”
She couldn’t help the smile that spread over her face, even though it made it harder for Asa to keep kissing her. “So where do we go from here?”
His body was crowding hers in the most delicious way, the scratch of his stubble abrading her neck as he dipped his head to kiss behind her ear. “As in, my place or yours? Yours is closer, but I’d like to get a change of clothes at least from mine.” His hands found the bare skin of her shoulders under her cardigan. “Unless you meant the question in more of an existential sense. In which case, we can go anywhere we want to, baby.”