Chapter 6 - The Morning After
The kiss lasted until neither of us could draw breath.
Emma’s hands tangled themselves into my hair, pulling me closer, as if she were trying to fuse our ribs together to erase every mile that had separated us along Interstate 65.
Her mouth tasted like peppermint tea and sweet, hot tears.
When we finally parted, our foreheads rested against each other, our breaths mingling in white, ragged clouds in the freezing predawn mist.
"Five years, Ryan," she whispered against my lips, her hands resting flat against my chest, feeling the wild, irregular rhythm of my heart. "We wasted five whole years being noble."
"We aren't wasting another second," I promised, pressing a fierce, lingering kiss against her temple, then her eyelid, then the soft hollow beneath her ear.
A sharp, sudden cough sounded from the front doorway.
We both jumped, pulling apart like guilty teenagers caught behind the bleachers.
Daniel stood in the open doorway, holding an empty cereal bowl, wearing mismatched flannel pajama pants, with his hair sticking straight up like a cockatoo.
He stared at me.
Then he stared at Emma.
Then he looked down at the empty step where our mugs had overturned in the commotion.
For five excruciating seconds, nobody breathed.
"Well," Daniel said, taking a slow spoonful of dry Cheerios and chewing deliberately. "It's about damn time."
Emma’s jaw dropped. "Daniel?"
"What?" Daniel shrugged, leaning against the doorframe with an unbothered smirk. "You two have been circling each other like two emotionally constipated penguins since Obama was in his first term. Did you honestly think I didn't know?"
"You knew?" I asked, dumbfounded.
"Ryan, you spent two weeks rebuilding my father's garden shed just so you could watch Emma paint the exterior trim in denim shorts," Daniel said flatly. "And Emma, you called me thirty-six times from Chicago asking 'subtle' questions about how Ryan's business was doing."
Daniel shook his head, pointing his spoon at both of us.
"If you two break up, Ryan, you're still coming to Sunday football. But if you hurt my sister, I will personally drive my truck through your workshop wall."
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"Understood," I nodded instantly.
Daniel turned back toward the warm kitchen. "Now come inside. Mom woke up twenty minutes ago and she's already rolling out pie dough for breakfast. And for the love of God, Ryan, wash the sawdust off your face before you kiss her again."
