“What are we doing, Killian?” She sighs. “I mean, we talk all the time—you’re basically my best friend at this point—but I live here. In this country. And you don’t.”
She glares at him.
“I’m being serious.”
“So am I. Emma—I like you. I want—I want this, whatever it is. I want you in my life, and I want to see you more, and—” He drops his gaze to the floor, fingers lacing with hers. He can feel her eyes on him, feel her hands squeeze his, encouraging him to continue. “We could make it work. People do long distance all the time.”
“You’d want that?”
He looks up at her, sees the insecurity in her face that he knows is reflected in his.
She continues to study him for a moment, and he lets her. Sets to memorizing her face in case she decides she doesn’t, in case she decides to take her bag and get on the next bus, leave his life for good. He wouldn’t begrudge her that choice.
After what seems like forever she nods.
“Let’s try. Let’s do this.”
(He’s the one to kiss her this time, and he’s falling in love with this woman and it’s not so scary anymore because she seems to be falling, too.)