Veronica’s a sight in a short, black, pleated skirt, an off-the-shoulder knitted blue sweater with a tank underneath and Wicked Witch of the West green-and-black-striped tights. On her feet are black combat boots. The boots are like her father’s, just the right type for kicking ass. Her short blond curls are pulled up into a ponytail on top yet several strands have declared rebellion and bounce near her face.
“Did you and Nazareth have a nice conversation while waiting on me?” she asks, and I wonder if she knows about our conversation last night.
“He didn’t say anything. Not today, at least.”
“Don’t feel bad. He doesn’t talk to many people. That’s what happens when you’re a walking, talking, residual haunting.” She watches as he disappears into the trees.
I find that interesting, but Nazareth isn’t why I’m here. “How are you feeling?”
“Better. Shouldn’t you be at school?”
“Shouldn’t you?” I counter.
“I’m co-opting. You know, learning a career hands-on? I should probably inform the counselor, but she probably would tell me no. Anyhow, I’m a farmer this month. I only have until October to learn it all and then I’ve decided to be a vet.”
I can’t tell if she’s testing me or teasing. Maybe a little of both. “So no more school for you?”
“I wish. I’ll be back, but as I’ve said before—rules are optional for me.” She winks then, a bit of a smile, but it quickly fades.
Veronica’s cool as the morning as she walks past toward a tire swing hanging off the branch of the tree I’m standing under. She sits on it and lightly swings. Indifferent to me, to the world, to what happened between us. This is the literal definition of night and day. Friday night, she was in my arms and each touch was as hot as an August night. Last night, we whispered words of love. This morning, she’s impassive. “I’m worried about you.”
“You shouldn’t be,” she says. “We aren’t supposed to get all emotional, remember?”
I do. That was the deal, but … “Things changed.”
She becomes crestfallen. “Look, I like you, I really do, but—”
“You told me you loved me last night.”
“I was high.”
“I told you that I loved you back.”
She closes her eyes as if that causes her pain.
“Look.” She reopens her eyes. “We had a great time together, and you’re a great kisser, but I told you I wasn’t looking for anything serious. After you getting upset with me about Lucy and ghosts and now it appears that you’re overreacting with the headache last night, I think it might be best if we return to just being project partners.”
“Project partners?” I challenge. After what we’ve gone through together? After what she’s become to me? After I allowed her in?
“We had fun,” she says like that should be the end of the conversation. “Maybe when we get past this awkwardness and this strange breakup, we can kiss again sometime.”
My jaw twitches at the idea of a casual hookup. I get that’s what society tells me is every man’s dream, but that’s not what I want. Not from anyone. Especially not her. “I want more.”
“More kissing?” Veronica gives me a drop-dead smile as she stands from the tire swing. “I didn’t realize I was that good at it.”
“I want more than kissing.”
Her flirtatious smile fades. “And we should have never put a label on things. We should have just stayed casual. That would have been better for both of us.”
“I love you.” I drop it out there, leaving me naked and raw and her holding my heart. “It’s done, Veronica. It happened. You trying to take three steps back doesn’t change that.”
Veronica nibbles on her lower lip. A move that means deep thought and conflict for her, one that makes me think incredibly too much of how I’d love to kiss her lips again and how I hate it when she looks sad. I reach over and with my thumb, smooth out her mouth, and her eyes snap to mine. The sadness is gone, replaced by a spark.
I cup her cheek and caress her soft skin. Veronica swallows then her tongue darts out to lick her lips. She breathes in deeply as if she, too, is having a hard time keeping her heart rate calm. Energy builds in the air around us, so potent that it practically crackles.
“That’s all this is,” she whispers. “We’re attracted to each other. That’s it. And that attraction works and works well. You’re confusing it for emotion.”