Ask Me for Tomorrow by Elise K Ackers

quickly, he shot out a hand to steady himself, balancing it against the nearest shelf, bumping half a dozen carefully stacked boxes.
    ‘You didn’t kiss me back,’ Alice said, her voice altered almost beyond recognition.
    ‘What? Why would I kiss you back?’ His thoughts a fraction behind his words, he held up his hand in apology. ‘Not that you’re not – but . . . What are you doing?’
    ‘What am I doing? What did you say all that for if you’re not—’
    ‘I thought you were depressed!’
    ‘ Depressed? ’ Her voice plummeted in volume. ‘Oh no. You didn’t mean . . . what I thought you meant.’
    ‘What did you think I meant?’
    Suddenly the volume was back, edged with temper and humiliation. ‘That’s obvious now! Move!’ She shoved past him, knocking him off-balance. She disappeared through the doorway flooded with light and was gone by the time he followed. Her jacket was missing from its hook and her bag gone from its regular spot.
    Dean really hated it when people got behind the wheel when they were emotional. It wasn’t safe, and there were people he loved out there on those roads. He dropped into a customer chair and glowered at the front door. This, of course, meant that Ethan got hit with the full force of his mood when he walked in a moment later, toolbelt and warehouse plans in hand.
    ‘Woah,’ Ethan said, raising an arm as if to shield himself. ‘What did I do? Is this about the paint colour? I asked you four times to choose it yourself and I still showed you the swatch when you didn’t!’
    Dean blinked hard then shook his head. ‘You didn’t do anything.’
    ‘Not true. I worked my arse off today, but I can’t say the same for tomorrow. I’m running out of things to do in there, mate.’ He pointed his thumb in the direction of the warehouse as he rounded the desk and helped himself to Alice’s empty seat. ‘Ro’s going to crack it when he gets here – all I’ve got for him to do is look on the floor for nails and screws.’
    ‘Right.’ Dean pushed his hand over his face and struggled to properly join the conversation. The way Alice had looked in the soft light kept superimposing itself over Ethan lounging on her desk chair, like a double negative on camera film. He wanted to be in the moment, but it was difficult when the previous moment was still storming through his bloodstream, adrenaline and confusion marching out of step with one another.
    When, exactly, in the short time that they’d worked together, had Alice decided that it was a good idea to put her mouth on his? Even with the gift of hindsight he still couldn’t recognise enough moments to qualify the decision. She was hardly chomping at the bit to spend more time with him – and he had to coax her to talk about herself. So had it been impulse? Had the things he’d said in the storeroom – which, thinking on it now, could perhaps have been misleading – put the idea in her head, or had it already been there?
    Dean stood. There were no answers to his questions here, and obsessing about it wasn’t going to further illuminate the situation. All that was certain was that Alice had kissed Dean; his first kiss in close to three years, however clumsy and unexpected, and she’d bolted out the door faster than Dean had been able to clear his head. Now there would be damage control, awkward exchanges and explanations. Unless he wanted to kiss her again, in which case there would be different kinds of awkward exchanges, flirtation and . . .
    Ben.
    Alice’s son opened the reception door and shuffled in, scuffing his shoes on the linoleum and fiddling with a frayed shoulder strap on his school backpack. Nina and Rowan were steps behind him, in their noticeably newer uniforms. Ben’s hair was weeks past needing a cut and Dean had to wonder what Alice thought weekends were for. Surely she could spare half an hour to get the hair out of her kid’s eyes?
    ‘Hey kids,’ he said, at the exact