Chapter 5 Dallas
FIVE
DALLAS
“A history professor?”
“Port Grandlin State’s newest.” Ace smiled softly.
It took my brain a moment to process that information and come up with an appropriate response. “Congratulations on your appointment."
Their smile grew. “Thanks. It’s a great job. I’m really excited about it. That’s why I was in Atlanta. I was at a conference for history educators. I didn’t know there was a museum curator conference going on at the same time. Small world, huh?”
I nodded slowly. “Small world,” I echoed as Ace turned on their turn signal and pulled the car up to a gas pump.
We both got out of the car and Ace pulled the plastic gas can out of their trunk. I reached for it, but Ace turned away. “I’ve got it.”
I shook my head. “That’s okay.”
“I don’t mind,” they said, stepping closer to the pump and swiping their card.
“You don’t have to do that,” I protested. “I can handle it.”
With a shrug, they smiled, crouched down, and placed the nozzle into the gas can. “It’s fine. You can cover me next time.”
“Next time,” I repeated with a scoff, hoping sincerely there wouldn’t be a next time. I didn’t mind their company, but I definitely didn’t want to get caught without gas again. A moment passed before I cleared my throat and gave them a small but sincere smile. “Well, thank you.”
Ace looked up at me from where they were crouched and grinned, showing off their perfect, white teeth, their bright blue eyes alight. “I knew I’d get you to smile eventually.”
“Sorry?”
“Erica—our seatmate from the plane—and I, we were wondering if we could get you to smile. You come across as so serious. She didn’t think it was possible, but I knew I could make it happen under the right circumstances.”
“You… bet on whether I’d smile?”
“Not a bet. More of a personal challenge. And I did it.” They shrugged again and replaced the gas nozzle into the pump, their smile remaining. “My next goal is to see if I can get you to laugh.” I chuckled softly, my cheeks heating a little, and Ace’s smile grew. “That doesn’t count, though.”
“Whatever you say.”
I reached to pick up the gas can at the same time Ace did, our hands brushing as we both went for it.
Goose bumps rose along my skin, and my hand tingled where we’d touched.
For some reason, my breath caught in my throat.
It had to be the fumes. The gas was making me loopy, most likely.
When I looked at Ace, their cheeks had turned pink and they mumbled an apology.
I backed away as they put the can back in the car and before I knew it, we were back at the airport parking lot.
“I really appreciate your help,” I said for what was probably the dozenth time.
Ace waved away my gratitude as they got out of the car. “I’m going to put the gas in your tank. You try the engine when I’m done.”
I nodded and followed their instructions, sitting behind the wheel and waiting until I was given the all clear. I waited another second before attempting to start my car, holding my breath as I did.
The car sputtered for a second before rumbling to life and I breathed a sigh of relief as it did.
Ace whooped in triumph. A moment later, they were standing by the driver’s side door, grinning ear to ear. “Teamwork.”
I smiled back and nodded. “Teamwork.” A moment passed as it occurred to me that I’d likely never see them again. For some reason, it felt like a loss. “Thanks again.”
“No problem, really.” They lingered at my door for a few seconds, our gazes locked. Finally, they rubbed the back of their neck before running a hand through their short, dark hair. “I should get going.”
“Right,” I murmured. “These suitcases won’t unpack themselves.”
They gave me another grin. “Exactly.” Ace turned to leave, hesitated, and turned back. “Maybe we should exchange numbers. Just in case you ever need gas again.”
“That’s a good idea.” Relief washed over me. Maybe I was just glad to have someone looking out for me.
Ace thrust their phone at me and I tapped my number in, sending myself a text. “Okay then.” They nodded. “Thanks. I’ll… see you next time.”
“Next time,” I agreed. A few moments later, they were in their car and we were both headed our separate ways.
I felt a weird ache in my chest and a little sadness.
As I drove, I tried to shake off the feeling, turning on public radio to distract myself as I drove home.
It didn’t help—I thought about them the whole drive home, their piercing pale blue eyes, their dark hair, the way my entire body felt like it was on fire when we accidentally touched.
When I finally arrived home, I threw myself into reviewing and organizing my materials from the conference, if for no other reason than to take my mind off of Ace.