“Going in to check out the campus. I finally activated my enrollment to start in January.”
The grin he hits me with is downright blinding. I blink away, like he’s too bright to look at directly. It hurts.
“Gonna check out a few rental places too,” I mumble. Talking about these things with him feels awkward in the wake of everything that’s happened between us. Fake, to real, to a little too real.
I guess I’m just inexperienced enough to not know where I stand with him, or how to even broach the subject, even though I know I have to.
All I know is he lied. My feelings got hurt. He brings me breakfast every morning and gives me every bit of space I asked for—possibly too much space. And he told me I should leave town.
But then he smiles at me like he loves me.
And I go right back to being confused.
“Good for you.”
I scoff. Good for me. It’s like a pat on the head, and that’s not what I want from him. I want him to toss me over his shoulder and drag me back to his house.
But I don’t want to be in Chestnut Springs.
I am so fucking lost.
“What are you going in for?”
“Work,” he replies simply. All that does is make me think he’s doing something with the bar, which reminds me he’s been lying to me out of some misplaced sense of duty.
Heroic motherfucker.
We fall into silence once more as the fields whip by and the skyscrapers over the city come into view.
“Where am I taking you?”
He shifts in his seat, grabbing the overhead handle and looking out the window. “I’ll direct you.”
Cryptic motherfucker.
We head straight into the city.
“Left here.”
I turn.
“Right up ahead.”
Again, I turn, following the road into a cozy, tree-lined neighborhood. Older houses. Some infills. A one-level brick school with a brightly colored playground out front.
I was expecting something different when he said “work”。 I have no idea what we’re doing here. At least it isn’t far from campus.
“One more block up.”
My brows furrow as I watch a stream of children make their way down the sidewalk, too-big backpacks slung over their shoulders.
“Just here. On the left.”
I stop on the opposite side of the road and look across at another brick building.
A fire hall.
“What’s this?”
“Kinda figured the big red truck out front might be a dead giveaway,” he replies on a chuckle.
I hear him unbuckling his seatbelt, but I can’t seem to peel my eyes away from the building.
“Right. But why?”
“Job interview.” He tugs the handle and opens the door to exit the small cab.
As he gets out, I ask the same question again, not quite comprehending what’s going on. “But why?”
Beau turns, and his eyes sweep over my face, like he’s trying to memorize my every feature. Then he shrugs, a nonchalant motion in contrast to the intensity of his gaze. “Told you I love you, Bailey. And I meant it.” He gives me a wink and hits the truck roof twice, like I’m a fucking cab driver or something. “Make sure whatever house you pick has room for us to host family dinners. You know the Eaton clan will visit more than we want them to.”
Us. We.
I sit here slack jawed, at a loss for words. Is he getting a job in the city just so he can be with me?
But I don’t get a chance to ask because he strides off, calling back over his shoulder, “Text me when you’re headed back. I’ll keep myself busy until you’re done.”
Then he’s across the street. Going for a job interview.
And me? I’m an emotional puddle.
I wander the campus in a daze.
I drink a coffee that tastes bland and watery. The ones Beau makes me are better.
I walk, checking for any cafes or restaurants that might be hiring. I drop off a resume at two that I like the looks of. Both times I’m met with smiles and enthusiasm. People who seemed excited by the prospect of hiring me.
It’s nice, but … I don’t feel that good about it.
The first rental I have an appointment at is a condominium on the twelfth floor. The woman showing it to me seems nice enough as she leads me through the space, which has big windows and lovely views. But when she says, “And there’s room for a small dining table right here,” while pointing at a practically non-existent space, I burst out crying.
Because that’s not nearly enough space to host the Eatons. And I want that. I want Beau, and I want that life, and I—god, I wish he was here with me.