Page 58 of Mountain Bean Dream
I laughed shakily, but my heart still raced for a reason that had nothing to do with Derek and everything to do with the space pirate in front of me who may have just stolen my heart.
Chapter Eighteen
After the kiss—which didn’t feel like either of us had been pretending—I didn’t know how to act. So, the coward I was, I let Jeremy slip back into his work routine while I focused on anything that would keep my mind occupied. I baked cookies that came out slightly burnt, skimmed a chapter of a book I couldn’t concentrate on, and threw myself into a deep clean of the bathroom with a single-mindedness that bordered on mania. Even with my arm in the sling, I scrubbed grout like I could purge all the confusion from my brain.
Although it was all an act, itfeltso real. No one kissed like that unless there was a deeper meaning behind it. There was just no way.
Predictably, I overdid the cleaning. By mid-afternoon, my elbow throbbed, and the dull ache radiated into my shoulder. Begrudgingly, I downed a pain pill, lay on the bed, and let exhaustion claim me.
The knock startled me awake, sharp and deliberate. My heart jolted as I scrambled to sit up, wiping sleep from my eyes. I hesitated at the door, peeking through the peephole before unlocking it. Jeremy stood there, his wavy hair catching the golden hues of the late afternoon sunlight. Something about the sight of him sent a flicker of warmth through me, even as my heartbeat quickened in a way I wasn’t ready to give a name to.
“Hey,” I said, cracking the door open and ushering him in with a wave. “No costume today?”
He grinned, a crooked, boyish smile that somehow made my heart leap and my knees feel like jelly. “Retired for now. But just wait—fantasy night’s around the corner.” He waggled his eyebrows, a teasing glint in his eye that drew an involuntary laugh from me.
I caught myself staring too long and dropped my gaze to the floor, grounding myself in reality. After all, this was supposed to be fake, just a game to make Derek jealous. Except... had it been entirely fake last night? That kiss had felt too real, too charged.
And then there was Mac. Why, if we were just acting, had I felt something akin to blind jealousy in her presence? She had glared at me as much as I wanted to glare right back. Maybe I had?
Jeremy interrupted my spiraling thoughts with his usual casual charm. “What time’s your practice?”
“Oh beans!” I turned to glance at the blinking clock on the nightstand. “In twenty minutes?”
“Are you asking or telling me?” he teased, his laugh warm and disarming.
“Telling,” I replied quickly, wiping at the corner of my mouth where the crusted remnants of a drool nap gave me away.
He chuckled as he stepped further into the room. “Still need a ride? I’m heading into town anyway—promised Grandma I’d stop by.”
My elbow protested at the mere idea of driving, but I shoved the thought aside. I wasn’t known for making the smartest decisions, especially when stubbornness got the better of me. “If you don’t mind,” I said, “I’d really appreciate it.”
Jeremy plopped into the chair by the window, slumping with the easy grace of someone completely at home in his skin. “Ready when you are.”
I glanced down at my rumpled sweater and leggings and winced. “Give me two minutes to change.”
I ducked into the bathroom, quickly swapping my wrinkled clothes for a fresh sweater and a pair of clean leggings. My reflection caught my eye in the mirror. Despite the lingering haze of sleep and the dark bruise peeking out from under mysleeve, I didn’t look half bad.
Not that it mattered. This wasn’t about Jeremy.
When I came out, Jeremy was sitting in the chair by the window, casually spinning my flute case in his hands like it was the most natural thing in the world. His long legs stretched out in front of him, one ankle crossed over the other, and he looked so at ease it made me pause. He glanced up as I entered, and the way his eyes softened sent a small flutter through my chest.
“All set?” he asked, rising to his feet in one fluid motion.
“Yeah, let’s go.”
The late afternoon air was crisp, carrying the faint tang of pine and the distant scent of someone’s wood-burning stove. Shadows from the parking lot trees stretched long and lazy over the pavement as we walked. I nodded toward my old car parked at the far end, her faded paint looking almost nostalgic in the golden light.
“We can take Char, if you don’t mind driving.”
Jeremy’s smirk was instant, as though he’d been waiting for this exact opportunity. He handed me the flute case, his fingers brushing mine for the briefest moment—long enough for my pulse to trip over itself. “I think your car likes me better when I don’t drive it. Besides, Merlot’s ready to go, and I’d feel bad taking your wheels.”
“Fair enough,” I said, unable to fight the smile tugging at my lips.
I climbed into his truck, the warmth of the leather seats meeting me like a small luxury, and he slid into the driver’s seat with an easy confidence that made it impossible not to watch him for a second too long. I shook my head at myself as he started the engine.
The hum of the truck filled the comfortable silence as we pulled onto the highway, the town unfurling in front of us. I fiddled absently with the strap of my sling, feeling the weight ofhis gaze flick toward me and back to the road.
“You sure you’re up for playing? You don’t want to risk making that arm worse,” he said, his tone warm but edged with concern.