Kent wished he could go back in time and relive his afternoon and evening—he checked his thoughts. If he started going back in time, he realized he had no idea where he’d end up. Or, more relevant to the day, who he’d end up with.
He’d done it. He had invited Hannah to consider possibilities with him. She had read his card and followed him to the coffee shop.
That coffee and that afternoon had been the best of both that he could remember. Coffee led to dinner—nothing fancy; pizza from the shop down the street.
That pizza had led to a long walk in the cool night.
And they talked. They started with the morning. Then the week before. Then somehow they got back to elementary school, middle school, and high school. He told her about starting his business.
Eventually, their conversations got back to the near past, to their adventures at time-travelers and their on-going lack of seeing the point.
Then, much to Kent’s delight, they talked about the future. Kent promised to be in no hurry. Hannah was glad for that. She had a rule that she had required from Merritt, Devon, and all the few other boys she had dated—she called it the hands rule, and it stipulated where she would allow herself to be touched.
“Arms, shoulders, back above the waist, and anywhere on the head. Knees to toes, if the occasion presents itself. Outside of the thighs. Period.”
Kent was fine with that. He wanted to go slow and do things right. He had no interest in a tryst or a fling.
As he readied himself for bed, he decided that his interest was in starting something important and protecting the opportunity to find out just how important it was.
He committed himself to being open and honest, to asking the right questions at the right time, and to seeing if they could enjoy life together more than they did apart.
And, having five days off to get things started was extremely appealing.
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