Page 48 of Chasing Smoke

I nod. This is for the best. We won’t have to deal with other people knowing or other people’s judgments. And most of all, I won’t have to worry about being the one to let her down.

I’m about to respond when she pulls a piece of paper from under her purse on the entryway table and holds it out to me.

“What’s this?” I open it.

“It’s a list of things I need to do before we can… you know.” Her cheeks get that beautiful shade of pink. “Maybe it’s silly, but I think if I can do all of these things, then I’ll be ready.”

I read the list. Each one feels like a punch in the gut, and by the time I’m done reading, I’m breathless. It’s a stark reminder of how fucked up this entire situation between us is.

I gently fold it back up and hold it out to her. “It’s a good list.”

“You think it’s dumb.” Her shoulders deflate, and she draws back.

“Not at all.” I step forward to cover the space she just put between us, then remember myself. When in the hell did I need to be touching her to feel like I was offering real comfort? “I mean it, it’s a good list. I think Nina is right. We should probably put the brakes on whatever this is. Until you’re in a better place emotionally.”

Collins nods with a sad sort of look. “All right. Let me just grab my coat, and I’m ready to go.”

She does, then locks up the house, and I walk over to open the passenger door of the truck for her. Just because there’s no prospect of being physical with her again doesn’t mean I’m not going to act like a gentleman.

Once she’s inside, I walk around the front of the truck, ignoring Caleb’s truck and how disappointed he would be in me, then get in the driver’s side.

“Thanks for coming to this with me tonight.”

I reverse down her driveway, but I quickly glance at her. “It’s no problem. I told you, I’m here for you whether there’s something going on between us or not.”

The small smile she gives me makes me want to lean over and kiss her. Instead, I grip the steering wheel harder.

“Were you able to listen to the book on your drive to Portland?”

“I was, yeah.”

“Did you hate it?”

I glance over, and she’s cringing. “What’s not to like? Secret societies, billionaire brothers, and lots of sex.”

She chuckles.

I put on my left blinker at the stop sign. “Honestly, I didn’t even know books were that graphic. I had to keep turning my radio down at stoplights, afraid someone walking by would hear it.”

“I probably should have warned you.” She fully laughs—at my expense, I can tell. I don’t mind. “How was your visit with your friend?”

The reminder that she doesn’t know the real reason I was in Portland sobers my mood. I hate liars, and I hate lying. But I don’t want to put my hope for a new job into the universe and then see the disappointment on other people’s faces when I don’t get it.

“He’s good. Nothing much new with him.” I give her a smile.

That’s it, I’m going to hell.

TWENTY-TWO

Collins

We walk into the Spine & Spirit, where folding chairs are set up in a small circle at the front of the store. A few women are already seated, and the owner, Greta Goldstein, stands just outside the circle, chatting with the group.

I’ve always liked this shop. It’s older without appearing old. Instead, it has a sort of rustic charm with wooden shelves that are scratched and chipped in places from decades of moving books on and off the shelves. It always smells like pumpkin spice or cinnamon, regardless of the time of year, and Greta always has hanging lights strewn across the ceiling that cast a warm yellow hue across the surfaces.

“Collins. Ansel.” Greta claps her hands and excuses herself from the others. “Are you joining us for book club?”

“We are.” I turn and look back at Ansel, a big smile on my face. “Well, I am. I sort of forced Ansel to come so I wouldn’t have to come alone.”