“It’s odd. We’ve had a whole life together, and you have no idea about any of it.”

I shake my head slowly. “No. I wish I did.”

“I could tell you things that would make your hair curl,” he says.

I struggle to come up with a clever answer, managing to stop myself from saying something dumb like, Well then, maybe you should curl my hair.

“Do you want to know?” he asks.

There’s a trill in my chest and I nod. “Yes.”

“Okay,” he says. “Let’s go for a walk.”

“Okay.” I start to follow him, then say, “I’m actually going to—”

“Right. I’ll wait downstairs.”

Then I pee, check my makeup and hair, and take a few deep breaths before going to find him.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“Why is everything closed?”

We’ve walked back into the heart of the village, and it is a ghost town. Like being on the Warner Bros. backlot when nothing is shooting.

He gives me a look and then tilts his head back in the direction whence we came. “They’re all back at Aimee’s, aren’t they?”

“Sure, but—I mean literally everyone?”

“Nah, there’re a few old codgers on their farms probably getting ready for bed about now. The ripe old hour of six o’clock being a bit late for them. But there’s no sense in keeping the places open when it’s a big event like that.”

I shake my head. “That’s insane.”

He points across me at Joy’s and says, “That’s where you were reading the first time I saw you.”

“Oh, I went there yesterday. I didn’t realize that’s where we met.”

“Not met. I saw you there. Didn’t have the nerve to approach you yet.”

“Right, I remember that now. Kiera sort of gave me the lowdown on our whole … thing.”

“Ah, did she?” he says, putting his head back, walking with his hands in his pockets.

We’re keeping a slow pace, neither of us in any hurry. The sun is turning the sky a golden orange and it’s a strange feeling to know that it is hours from setting, unlocking a time between dusk and nighttime that I’ve never known before. A whole new time of day that has been spliced into the life I thought I knew. I know it’s science, but it feels like magic.

I could stay on this walk for the rest of my life.

A cool breeze tumbles over us, and my arms are alight with goose bumps.

“Here, let’s stop in here,” he says, nudging our direction over to the pub. He pulls a set of keys out from his pocket and opens the door.

I follow him in, feeling strangely, happily nervous to be so very, very alone with him like this.

“Shut the door, will you?” he says, once we’re both inside.