We only waved at Lisa on our way out since she was busy with customers, then headed back to the station. Lindsey and I had held hands most of the day. At times, we’d walked with arms around each other’s waists. Sometimes, Lindsey put his arm around my shoulder and hugged me close. It was sweet, and it was torture.
I knew he wanted to do more, but he was being a gentleman and adhering to what I’d said. To hell with that.
When we arrived at Lindsey’s apartment, it was almost six in the evening, and my feet were sore. Lindsey took two ginger ales out of the refrigerator, one for each of us. I’d asked him earlier in the day if he drank alcohol. He’d said he preferred not to expose Lisa to that until she was twenty-one, though he knew good and well she had other opportunities to get some, if
