“I don’t like that prick.”

“You’re not supposed to. He’s a politician.” Naomi smiled, but I didn’t think anything about Peter was funny. She touched my hand. “Why don’t we go out? Have a good time and blow off some steam?”

I stood, my head immediately spinning, my heart banging against my chest. “Blow off steam? Dead rabbits in your yard spelling that shit isn’t steam, Naomi. Something is very wrong.”

“I promise, it’s fine.”

I sighed. “I should probably head home.”

“Zeke, it’s Thanksgiving.”

“I know. It’s just … awkward.”

“I thought you were going to teach me how to two-step?”

One corner of my mouth turned up, but it quickly faded. “I dunno, Naomi. I’m not feeling the best, and I’m trying to process.”

“Process what?” When I didn’t answer, she prompted again. “If you want to be with me or not?”

I couldn’t say anything. All I could hear was the thump of my heart and the ringing in my ears.

“Wow. Okay then. You’re right, this is awkward as fuck.”

“Naomi,” I said, reaching out for her and pulling her to stand. “You know my story. Even with Brad and Jenn treating me like their son, there was something missing. I spoke with them yesterday, and Jenn said I was different. I feel different. It’s more than just being with you. I feel like I’m finally part of a family. Our family. You and me.” The look on her face warned me away. “I get it. We’re in this weird place where we’re together, but there’s an invisible line you don’t want to cross. That’s what I’m processing. I just needed you to know that.”

“That it’s not you holding us up?”

I shrugged one shoulder.

She looked down. “Wow.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “I’m such a dick. Stay. Please?”

I had to get to bed and sleep whatever it was off. I had too much work coming up to get sick. I kissed her forehead, letting my lips linger on her skin. “Can I call you tomorrow?” I said softly.

Naomi nodded.

chapter twenty-six

next level

Zeke

I

t nearly killed me, but I walked away from her. I let the engine of my truck run for a minute or so then backed out, my foot planting the gas pedal to the floorboard. The tires squealed so the whole world would know my frustration. It might’ve been a stupid kid thing to do, but it felt good in the moment.

I stared at my phone more than the road, wishing she’d call, text, beg me to come back. She didn’t, but of course not. I knew better.