kiss.”
He would’ve smiled back if he weren’t now upset by her unilateral dismissal of anything more than a temporary working relationship. “What if you’re wrong?”
“About what?”
“About everything.”
“Pfft.” She rolled her eyes. “Maybe I was a romantic before Todd, but he cured me of any illusions. There’s no fairytale ending here, Logan, and we both know that. Let’s not ruin our friendship out of curiosity about what can never last.”
They drove a mile or two in subdued silence. With each rotation of the tires, he grew more and more frustrated.
“I remember, years ago, you telling me about your first tournament. How, in second grade, you showed up in regular shorts and a single racket and had to play a girl with three Hammer rackets and a matching tennis outfit. She intimidated you and you lost, but you came back fighting and beat her the next time. Where’s that Claire? Or is giving up your new norm? Does settling for less than you want because it’s safe feel good?” He felt the scowl seize his entire face. If she could be frank, he would be, too.
“Those questions assume that I want more than friendship. That’s pretty arrogant.”
Not arrogant. Honest, based on years of experience with women, and with Claire in particular. “Are you really going to sit there and pretend that you have no interest in me?”
She flushed and looked at her hands. “No, I’m not a coward or a liar, just a realist. I’d rather us be friends forever than former lovers who don’t speak.”
The velvety sound of her voice saying “lovers” ricocheted through him. Unlike her, he couldn’t dismiss this interest so easily. He wanted a taste of more, even if it didn’t last forever. Nothing lasted forever. “Who says it has to be either-or? Life is remarkably fluid if you don’t get hung up on labels, or grudges.”
“Says the man who’s held a grudge against his own father for as long as I can remember.” With a little huff, she tugged at her coat and pants, shifting uncomfortably in the seat. “Why are we talking about this, anyway? Let’s not spoil our day.”
He let the dig about his dad go because the last thing he wanted now—or ever—was to think about that relationship.
“We’re talking about this because I want to understand what’s changed you into someone who’s afraid of taking chances.”
“Life!” She shook with frustration now.
“Life?”
She nodded. “Anytime I pour my heart into something—dreaming of it, working toward it, planning for it—I lose it. Tennis. Todd. Not to mention how the bullet that shattered my hip left me with lifelong pain and nerve damage. Maybe I just don’t have it in me to throw my heart against a wall again, Logan.”
He couldn’t argue with her suffering and loss, but her perspective was off.
“Maybe your problem is that you’re too focused on an end goal instead of simply enjoying the ride. What if, instead of making tennis or Todd or anything else the focus of your future, you lived in the moment and savored each one, wherever it led? If you’d only let yourself enjoy life as it happened without expectations or judgments, you’d be happier. When you ditch expectations, nothing is a risk. Everything simply becomes another new experience for however long it lasts. That’s what life is all about.”
She stared at him, wearing the strangest sad expression. “Is it so easy for you to say goodbye to things and people?”
“That’s not what I’m saying.”
“When you boil it down, that is what you’re saying. And it’s just not who I am.”
“You’re so sure of yourself. Convinced your way is the way. Convinced you can’t venture beyond Sanctuary Sound. But, Claire, have you noticed anything about this ride home?”
She frowned. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“We’ve already crossed into Connecticut, yet you haven’t been gripping your stomach, sweating buckets, or chewing your nails.” He glanced at her in time to see the surprise on her face.
“Have we?” Her eyes went wide. “Where are we now?”
“Westport.”
“Seriously?” She looked around as if she might recognize something on the highway, which was hilarious considering the fact that she never drove on the damned thing.
“Seriously.” Of course, now that he’d called her attention to the road, he noticed her fingers digging into the leather console. Thankfully, the sleet had stopped.
“Well, that’s good.” She settled a hand on her stomach, her voice flatter than before. “We’re more than halfway home.”
“That’s not my point.”
“What is your point?”
“Yesterday you believed you couldn’t leave town safely. Today you