Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Amber
T he night air is crisp as we leave the field, a soft hum of leftover excitement buzzing around us from the game. Derek walks beside me, hands in his pockets, and I’m hyperaware of how his shoulder brushes against mine occasionally. I keep my gaze straight ahead, but I can feel his eyes on me like he’s debating saying something but not quite ready.
We reach my car, parked in the quieter, dimly lit side of the lot, and I stop, turning to face him. The crowd's noise fades in the distance, and it’s just us in this small circle of space. The look he gives me is warm and intense, making my heart pound a little harder. His hand moves up, brushing a loose strand of hair away from my face, and my breath catches as he leans in slowly.
This is it. He’s going to kiss me right here, in the middle of a school parking lot, after a football game. And somehow, I don’t care about anything else except the way his eyes keep flickering from my lips to my eyes as if he’s just as caught up in this moment as I am.
I feel like I’m in the middle of a rom-com moment. Is this real life?
He leans closer, and I hear laughter echo through the lot. Derek straightens immediately, and I blink as the moment shatters, my cheeks burning. I glance past him, catching sight of Eric and some friends rounding the corner. My stomach twists as panic flickers through me. The last thing I need is for them—or anyone else—to get the wrong idea, not here, not now.
Eric and his friends stop short when they see us, and I swear I can feel their eyes darting between us, catching onto something I’d rather they didn’t notice. Derek clears his throat, taking a slight step back to put a respectable distance between us, and I feel myself standing a little straighter, suddenly hyperaware of everything.
“Hey, Dad. Miss Shafer,” Eric says, his gaze flickering between Derek and me with a smirk. “Out here getting some fresh air?”
Derek’s lips twitch. “Something like that. Just walking Amber to her car.”
“Sure, sure,” he says, his grin far too knowing.
“Anyway,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady, “I’ll see you all later.”
I give Derek a quick nod before ducking into my car, my heart still racing. I have no idea what they saw or were thinking, but suddenly, the thought of anyone knowing about whatever this is between Derek and me has my stomach twisting.
* * *
The following day, I’m still thinking about it as I wait at home, nervously adjusting the throw pillows on my couch for the fifth time. I’ve never felt so aware of how messy my place is even though I know it’s not. But Derek is coming over, and somehow, that changes everything.
At least I was able to move all of the boxes to the spare bedroom so it doesn’t look like Tetris exploded out here.
There’s a knock on the door, and I take a deep breath, blowing it out slowly.
You’re a beautiful badass, Amber; stop being so nervous.
I grab my jacket, take another deep breath, and open the door. Derek is standing on the porch, hands in his pockets, looking as relaxed and comfortable as ever. His eyes light up when he sees me, and it does something to my insides that I can’t ignore.
“Hey, you.” I smile.
“You look beautiful. I hope you don’t mind. I cooked dinner for you. I thought we could have a night in at the farm.”
“I love that idea, but if that’s the case, you didn’t have to come pick me up, you know,” I say as I lock the door behind me.
He chuckles, guiding me toward his car. “I didn’t want you driving around at night. Plus, this way, I get to ensure you’re safe.”
I roll my eyes playfully, but I can’t help the small smile. It feels nice to have someone worry about me.
“So now you’re my knight in shining armor?”
“Just doing my civic duty,” he says, opening the car door for me. “Thought I’d treat you to my world-famous lasagna.”
“World-famous, huh?” I raise an eyebrow. “And by ‘world-famous,’ you mean your mom loves it?”
“Hey, she’s hard to impress,” he says, looking mock offended. “And no, it’s actually gotten rave reviews from your brother. He practically inhaled it the first time I made it for him.”
“Teddy will eat anything, so that’s not a win,” I say with a giggle. “Tell me more about your parents. Are they around?”
“They live in Texas. They’re still married, still living their best life, and come to visit when they can.”
“Aw, I love that. Are you close with them?”
“Yeah, they stayed with me for about a month after Sharon died. It was greatly appreciated.”
“That’s nice. Having my parents so far away was really hard when I lived in Connecticut. I can’t imagine not being close someday when I have kids. Tell me more about you cooking for my brother.”
He chuckles, keeping his eyes on the road. “Oh, it’s a long story. Let’s just say it involved a slightly embarrassing situation with a flat tire, some terrible takeout, and the two of us huddled on the roadside debating whether we’d survive the night.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “I have to hear this story.”
We arrive at Derek’s place, and he scurries out of the truck to run around and open my door for me. It’s such a small, simple gesture, but it’s something I really love. I’ve never had a man do that, so it’s…nice.
He leads me inside, and I’m hit with the delicious smell of homemade lasagna the second we step in. His house is warm, cozy, and exactly what I’d expect—books stacked on the coffee table, a guitar leaning against the wall, and just enough clutter to make it feel lived-in.
“Make yourself at home,” he says, disappearing into the kitchen to check on dinner.
I wander over to the bookshelf, scan the titles, and grin when I see one of my favorite novels tucked between two thrillers. “I didn’t peg you as a hopeless romantic,” I call out.
He pops his head around the corner, eyes glinting with amusement. “Hey, I contain multitudes.”
I laugh, and a few minutes later, he emerges with two steaming plates of lasagna, setting them on the small dining table. I sit down, eyeing the dish in front of me.
“And,” he says, settling across from me, “this is where I wow you with my culinary skills.”
I take a bite, and I have to admit it’s incredible. “Okay, you weren’t kidding. This is actually amazing.”
He raises an eyebrow, looking pleased with himself. “See? I told you it was world-famous.”
We eat in comfortable silence for a while, and I relax, letting go of the nervousness that’s been buzzing in me since last night. When we’re nearly finished, he leans back, watching me with a smirk.
“Alright, so back to my brother,” I say, grinning. “What’s the deal with the flat tire and the terrible takeout?”
He laughs, shaking his head. “Alright, here’s the story. Your brother and I were supposed to grab a quick bite before a hunting trip. We’re driving down this backroad, and all of a sudden—bam. Flat tire.”
“I’m guessing you two weren’t exactly prepared?”
“Understatement of the year. We were in Sharon’s brand-new SUV and had no idea it didn’t have a spare in it. We didn’t have cell service either, so we couldn’t even call for help. We ended up sitting on the side of the road with this sad little container of cold Chinese food, trying to figure out our next move when this old guy came along and took pity on us.”
“Please tell me he didn’t change the tire for you,” I say, covering my mouth to hide my smile.
“He did,” Derek admits, looking sheepish. “And he wouldn’t take a penny for it. So we ended up sitting there eating cold lo mein and laughing about how helpless we were. And after that, your brother insisted I owed him one, which apparently meant cooking for him every time he came over.”
I shake my head, grinning. “That sounds about right.”
“Honestly, though? It was fun. I’d rather that have happened to us than Sharon and the kids. Your brother’s a good guy. Stubborn as hell, but he’s got a good heart.”
“Yeah, he does. And now he thinks you’re practically a Michelin-star chef, so I guess it worked out.”
We fall into easy conversation after that, trading stories and teasing each other, and the more we talk, the more I realize how much I enjoy being around him. There’s something so natural about it, like we’ve known each other forever even though this is technically our first real “date.”
“Wow, it’s almost midnight,” I breathe as I look up at the clock in the kitchen.
“Do you have a curfew, Miss Shafer?”
“No.” I giggle. “I didn’t realize we’ve been sitting here talking for almost four hours, though.”
“I didn’t either.” He grins back at me. “Do you want to move out to the front porch?”
“I’d much rather sit on the couch with you,” I shrug as I stand and carry my dishes to the sink. Maybe we can snuggle and watch a movie or something.”
He hops up and follows me.
“That sounds perfect.”