who thought everything out before he said it. Something about wanting to avoid verbal diarrhea at all costs, he’d attributed it to. “That’s all right. If you say you’re going to do it, I believe you,” she said, her words deliberate. “I trust you.”
Three words. Three syllables. Insignificant in the scheme of the billions we hear during our lifetime, but to date, the most significant words I’d heard. They hit me with the weight of a dozen different responses. I wanted to grip her to me and never let go, I wanted to slam the brakes and kiss her until the windows were coated in steam an inch thick, I wanted to wrap her in a bubble of protection and never let anything bad happen to her, I wanted to make her happy in every way a man could.
Trust was a simple thing, or at least so it seemed at face value, but the thing about living two centuries of existence is that one learns that trust is rarer than love. True love, even. I couldn’t count the number of couples, families, and friends that professed undying love to one another, only to find their unions fractured when this little underestimated thing known as trust was broken. You fell in love, but you earned trust, and for whatever reason, Emma trusted me.
I don’t think I would have been more moved if she’d just said she loved me.
And without realizing I was saying it, I responded, “I trust you, Emma.”
So much for playing it cool, keeping my cards to myself . . . I’d found myself sickeningly sweet profession deep in a Hallmark card.
“Good,” she said, running her fingers over the dash. “I can always use a good friend.”
I knew friend was generally the label of death for any man hoping to work his way into a woman’s heart, but I’d never let the odds stop me before. Friend was better than acquaintance, classmate, or enemy. Friend could work itself into something else, especially with me at the helm steering our friendship boat in the right direction.
“So, friend,” I began, letting the Maserati loose once we hit the freeway on-ramp. “Just so I know for future reference—are you going to be so difficult about everything?”
I could feel her grin light up the car. “I could ask you the same question.”
“Yes, you could,” I said, smiling the real kind I so rarely did. My smiles were generally more constructed depending on the situation and the outcome I wanted to elicit. “And the answer would be yes.”
She laughed as I threaded the car through an endless line of red tail lights. “Well aren’t we just two peas in a pod?”
Just as I was about to say something profoundly witty, my phone went off. “Sorry about that,” I said, freeing it from my pocket. “I forgot to silence it.”
Taking a glance at the screen, I saw who was responsible for the interruption. If it wasn’t already a truism that little brothers are annoying, this confirmed it. Joseph knew I was on a date, on a date where I actually dug the girl and didn’t want an interruption, and the little goober probably thought it would be great fun to pepper me with prank calls all night. I’d never punched ignore faster.
“You were saying?” I said, turning the phone off so I wouldn’t be distracted by the dozen and a half more calls that were surely coming. “Something about us getting all snug and cozy inside a pod?”
“You’re as optimistic as you are difficult,” she said, staring out the windshield like I wasn’t driving like it was the last lap of the Indy 500 and I was in second place.
“You’re just handing out the compliments tonight, aren’t you?” I replied, missing the bumper of some mini hybrid when it decided to hit its brakes when it saw me coming.
“Okay, so give me the sixty second Emma Scarlett spiel,” I said suddenly because, while I felt I knew her on a hey-you-wanna-be-my-soulmate level, I had very
Three words. Three syllables. Insignificant in the scheme of the billions we hear during our lifetime, but to date, the most significant words I’d heard. They hit me with the weight of a dozen different responses. I wanted to grip her to me and never let go, I wanted to slam the brakes and kiss her until the windows were coated in steam an inch thick, I wanted to wrap her in a bubble of protection and never let anything bad happen to her, I wanted to make her happy in every way a man could.
Trust was a simple thing, or at least so it seemed at face value, but the thing about living two centuries of existence is that one learns that trust is rarer than love. True love, even. I couldn’t count the number of couples, families, and friends that professed undying love to one another, only to find their unions fractured when this little underestimated thing known as trust was broken. You fell in love, but you earned trust, and for whatever reason, Emma trusted me.
I don’t think I would have been more moved if she’d just said she loved me.
And without realizing I was saying it, I responded, “I trust you, Emma.”
So much for playing it cool, keeping my cards to myself . . . I’d found myself sickeningly sweet profession deep in a Hallmark card.
“Good,” she said, running her fingers over the dash. “I can always use a good friend.”
I knew friend was generally the label of death for any man hoping to work his way into a woman’s heart, but I’d never let the odds stop me before. Friend was better than acquaintance, classmate, or enemy. Friend could work itself into something else, especially with me at the helm steering our friendship boat in the right direction.
“So, friend,” I began, letting the Maserati loose once we hit the freeway on-ramp. “Just so I know for future reference—are you going to be so difficult about everything?”
I could feel her grin light up the car. “I could ask you the same question.”
“Yes, you could,” I said, smiling the real kind I so rarely did. My smiles were generally more constructed depending on the situation and the outcome I wanted to elicit. “And the answer would be yes.”
She laughed as I threaded the car through an endless line of red tail lights. “Well aren’t we just two peas in a pod?”
Just as I was about to say something profoundly witty, my phone went off. “Sorry about that,” I said, freeing it from my pocket. “I forgot to silence it.”
Taking a glance at the screen, I saw who was responsible for the interruption. If it wasn’t already a truism that little brothers are annoying, this confirmed it. Joseph knew I was on a date, on a date where I actually dug the girl and didn’t want an interruption, and the little goober probably thought it would be great fun to pepper me with prank calls all night. I’d never punched ignore faster.
“You were saying?” I said, turning the phone off so I wouldn’t be distracted by the dozen and a half more calls that were surely coming. “Something about us getting all snug and cozy inside a pod?”
“You’re as optimistic as you are difficult,” she said, staring out the windshield like I wasn’t driving like it was the last lap of the Indy 500 and I was in second place.
“You’re just handing out the compliments tonight, aren’t you?” I replied, missing the bumper of some mini hybrid when it decided to hit its brakes when it saw me coming.
“Okay, so give me the sixty second Emma Scarlett spiel,” I said suddenly because, while I felt I knew her on a hey-you-wanna-be-my-soulmate level, I had very
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