I’m not sure why I’m pushing this. Why I want her to see her dad so bad. Maybe because there’s a small, black part of me that wants her to see what happened to him after she left. Maybe because I’m a complete asshole. Maybe because I haven’t seen her in four days and I’m on the verge of losing my goddamned mind.

Who the hell knows.

All I know is that I called my buddy, Logan, this afternoon and told him I needed to find Henley’s dad. I texted him a picture and he called me back forty-five minutes later, telling me where I can find him.

I also know that these past four days have been the hardest of my life. I keep fighting the urge to show up at the library while she’s working or at Gilroy’s when I know she’s there with Tess or on her doorstep in the middle of the night like a stray dog.

I want to be her friend. I want to give her what she wants but I don’t know how. I don’t know how to be around her without wanting to kiss her. Touch her. It was easier when we were kids because I didn’t know what doing those things to her felt like. I didn’t know what it was like to be inside her. What she sounds like when she comes. What it feels like to hold her while she sleeps.

So, yeah, I’ve been a fucking mess, these past four days. Wracking my brain, trying to figure out how to be around her without wanting her.

Which was stupid because I can’t. I know I can’t. I never could. Even when I was just a stupid kid, totally oblivious to all the ways she was going to fuck me up. So, that means I do what I do best.

I pretend to be someone else.

I pretend to be the guy who doesn’t love her.

Doesn’t want her.

I watch her cross the lobby through the passenger side window. She’s wearing jeans and boots. The kind of bulky sweater meant to hide what’s underneath. I’m sure, all told, the entire outfit cost more than I make in a month, but she’s ditched the diamonds and pearls.

“Hi.” She slides into the passenger seat next to me, giving me a nervous smile. I like to think she’s nervous about the fact that we’re about to go see her father and not the fact that she knows I’m about three seconds away from throwing my ride into park and dragging her into the backseat.

“Hey.” I let my gaze coast over her. Freckled face scrubbed clean of make-up. Hair pulled back into a simple ponytail. Cheeks pink from the crisp autumn air. Dark eyes wide and nervous.

One second, I’m fine. The next, I’m hard enough to break boulders with my cock. I look away from her, hoping against hope it’ll help me form more than one-syllable words. Because right how that’s all I’m working with. Words like fuck.

Lick.

Come.

Kiss.

“Are we going to go somewhere or…”

Shit. Right. I clear my throat and shoot her a quick scowl. “As soon as you put on your seatbelt,” I say, like that’s the reason we haven’t moved and not the fact that I can’t decide of I want to take her to see her dad or if I want to take her home and—

You’re not taking her home, genius. That’s not what she wants, remember?

“Oh.” She looks down at herself and blushes. “Sorry.” Reaching behind her, she draws the seatbelt across her chest and clicks its buckle into place before looking up at me with a smile. “Ready for takeoff.”

Shifting into drive, I pull out of the lot and head south. She doesn’t ask where we’re going. She doesn’t try to make small talk. She just leans her head back on her seat and watches Fenway slip past her through the window. I’m starting to wonder if she fell asleep when she finally speaks.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.” This could end horribly, but what the hell.

“Why did you hang out at the library when you were a kid?”

I laugh out loud, the question bizarre enough to force me to look at her. “What?”

She blushes and shakes her head. “Margo put me in charge of revitalizing the Teen Reading Center at the library and I’m at a serious loss and the budget I have to work with is laughable.” She sounds genuinely distressed. “I’ve never been in touch with what teenagers—even when I was a teenager—I…” she finally runs out of steam and sighs. “I want to do this right. I want to build something important before I—”

Before I leave.

That’s what she was going to say.

Before I leave.

“It’s where you were,” I tell her, cutting her off because I can’t listen to her say it. I just can’t.

“Excuse me?”

“You asked me why I hung out at the library when I was a kid. That’s my answer.” I flash her my dimples. No matter how many times I say it, she’ll never stop being surprised when I tell her how I feel about her. It’s both endearing and infuriating. “Because it’s where you were.”

“Oh…” she looks down at her hands, her cheeks stained a soft pink. “Well, I don’t think that’s going to help me much.”

“Probably not.” Letting the subject drop, I pull down a side street before turning down another narrow alleyway. Dead ahead is a dive called Willy’s. According to Logan, Jack’s been here since noon, slumped on a barstool, drinking his way through the better part of his disability check.

Seeing the building in front of us, Henley’s face loses some of its color. “Are you sure he’s in there?”

“Yeah.” I pull the car to a stop and kill the engine. “He’s in there.”

She nods. Takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly while rubbing her sweaty palms on the legs of her designer jeans. “How do I look?” She turns to look at me, her wide terrified and unsure. “I can’t do anything about my nose or my teeth, but I tried to—”

“I’d know you anywhere.”

When I say it, her expression softens, and she lets out a long, slow breath. Her hands stop their frenetic rubbing. Her shoulders relax under the bulk of her sweater. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“There’s nowhere else for me to be.” I give her a reassuring smile. “Ready?”

She shakes her head, swallowing hard against the obvious lump in her throat. “No.”

“Great.” I widen my smile, flashing her my dimples. “Let’s go.”