“So,” he says as he pulls out of my complex. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot with the holidays coming up. I know Halloween had you nervous. How are you feeling about Thanksgiving?”

Usually this is the kind of topic I try to avoid, but after how amazing he was on Halloween, I’m glad he brought it up. It’s like he somehow understands what I’m going through. I don’t feel like a buzzkill when I talk to him about it like I do when Liv and Marie check in.

“Not great, but not terrible.” I tell him the truth. “Brynn invited me over to her dad’s house for dinner. I guess he goes big for the holidays. And Maxwell’s mom is helping him cook. She said it would be a ‘dinner for all tastes,’ whatever that means. Plus, she told me I could bring Mrs. Rafter and whoever else I wanted to bring, which I’m pretty sure means you.” I laugh thinking about how she didn’t even try to play it cool. “So, if you want to come, I think it might be fun. Unless you already have plans or something.”

“That sounds like fun.” He reaches across the console and squeezes my thigh. “There was one thing I have planned earlier in the day, but I was going to ask you if you’d want to come with me. We could do that in the morning and then go pick up Mrs. Rafter and ride to Brynn’s dad’s together?” His fingers tense on my leg and even though he’s staring at the road in front of him, I can still tell he looks anxious for some reason.

“I’d love that.” I put my hand on top of his, enjoying that we’re in a place where we welcome the other person’s touch. I hope mine can comfort him as much as his seems to comfort me. “Thank you for thinking of me.”

“I’m pretty much always thinking about you these days,” he says. “Even when I’m trying not to.”

I couldn’t hide my smile even if I wanted to; his words make me happier than I can remember being in a long time. That undercurrent of guilt I’ve been feeling ever since my meeting with Mahler gets a little bit stronger before I shove it back down. I’m not doing anything wrong. What would be wrong is me making a permanent decision based on temporary emotions. If anyone would understand that, it’s Quinton.

The cold must be keeping people inside today, because the drive downtown goes by in a flash. There wasn’t even any traffic between Broadway and Sixth, which never happens anymore. When we arrive in the heart of downtown, Quinton opens his phone and clicks on a few things before deciding to park in a partially empty parking lot on Twentieth.