CHAPTER THREE

Carly

I didn’t take extra time getting ready for the game tonight. I didn’t. I may have checked things over a couple more times, worn my favorite pair of jeans and looked over my make-up more than once. But that doesn’t mean a thing. It doesn’t mean that I am hoping to see James or that I want him to see me at my best. Because today in my classroom? Wasn’t my best. At all.

It doesn’t mean that just the sight of him playing with all the kids in my class, talking with them and paying attention to everything they said, letting them know every word that came out of their mouths mattered, laughing with them, making jokes and accepting the offered cookie from Samuel, made my heart beat triple time.

When I saw him standing outside the school office, I tripped. Again. Over nothing! Just the sight of him has me tripping over myself. I had to lock myself in my classroom during lunch and recess, begging one of the other teachers to take my spot today, claiming I was having cramps because I’m apparently a seventeen-year-old trying to get out of running the mile in P.E. class, and I couldn’t come up with a better excuse.

Thank goodness, she didn’t question it. Just nodded her head and said to feel better. I thought I was doing pretty good, then I glanced out the window in my classroom that looks out into the playground. James was playing soccer with about thirty first graders. Laughing with them and giving them his undivided attention. At one point, I think he had about six kids hanging off him as he tried to run down the makeshift soccer field.

Not that I was watching the entire time.

I’m climbing the bleachers, my thick blue and white woven Mexican blanket in hand, a mustard yellow knitted stocking hat on my head. I’m in my traditional Friday night football gear: skinny jeans, a red Liberty High School football hoodie with a long sleeve underneath, and tall brown boots. Hardly a fashion statement, but it’s Michigan, and it’s basically layering season. I see Christine, one of my closest friends, who I met when she started coming to my yoga class, and take a seat next to her. Her daughter, Bri, is close with Grady, Harper’s older brother. Close, as in, I’m pretty sure they’re dating but don’t realize it or admit it to anyone. Also close, as in, she was being assaulted at a party a few weeks ago, and Grady damn-near beat the shit out of the kid who was at fault.

“Hey girl!” she says as I lay my blanket down to sit and take my seat next to her.

I lean over and give her a side hug. “Hey there. How was your day?”

“Good. Busy. This cooler weather has people coming in more than usual,” she tells me. She owns Dreamin’ Beans, the best little coffee shop ever. The way I understand it, it was always her dream to own and run a coffee shop. Her husband had been preparing to fulfill her dream, then cancer hit their family and didn’t release its hold. A few months after Christine’s husband passed away, she found out about the money he had set aside. “How was your day?”

“Ugh, weird.”

She leans down and picks up a travel coffee cup and hands it to me with a wink. “Better?”

“Goodness, yes,” I say as I lift the coffee cup close to my face and inhale the rich aroma. “Thank you,” I mumble as I blow on the coffee through the tiny sipping hole.

“Of course. So why was it weird? Were the kids crazy?”

“No. It wasn’t the kids. Although, did you hear about what happened to Harper Ryan?”

She nods her head. “I did. Bri told me, of course. But I also had to take Maggie home from volleyball practice last night and stayed to help a little bit. They had a house full of kids, and they weren’t even there.”

I sit up a little straighter. “You were at the Ryan’s house last night?”

“Yeah,” she confirms as she glances over and waves at Bri sporting Grady’s jersey. Christine waves obnoxiously, probably hoping to embarrass her slightly, but all she gets is a smile in return. They look like they could be twins, both with long dark silky hair, except Christine has this gorgeous red streak through hers and a tiny diamond stud in her nose. Their olive skin and bright green eyes make them look like they belong on an Italian island rather than Michigan. If they both weren’t two of the nicest individuals I’d ever come across, I’d probably hate them.

“I bet it was busy there last night,” I say, hoping she’ll give me a little more information about the person I’m trying not to think about, but failing miserably.

“It was. Jack was there, I’m sure you know that though. Grady’s friends were all pretty worried over little Harper. It was pretty cute. She was eating it all up, as you can imagine. I think she even put the back of her hand to her forehead and sighed at one point.”

We both giggle as I imagine how dramatic Harper would have been in front of the football team.

“Oh!” she says with a bright smile. She wiggles her eyebrows at me before saying, “Tess’s brother, James, was there since Barrett and Tess were at the cabin. He made dinner for everyone. Oh my word, the man can cook. He made huge pans of lasagna and this garlic bread that I’m pretty sure he made from scratch. Seriously, so good. Have you met him?”

“Um, yeah.” I shift awkwardly in my place on the bench. “I met him today, actually,” I tell her and lift the coffee cup to my lips then look toward the football field, hoping she doesn’t read more into it.

“Oh, rea-ally.” Her voice goes up and down.

Drat. She read into it.

“Mm-hmm.”

“Oh, don’t mm-hmm me. I know that look.”

“There’s no look.” I try to defend.

“Oh, there’s a look. Look me in the eyes and tell me there’s not a look. I know a look when I see a look.”

“Why don’t you say the word look one more time? It’s not sounding weird or anything.”

“Don’t try to change the subject. So-o-o, tell me.”

“Nothing to tell. He dropped off Harper at school, then he came back and had lunch with her. Simple as that.”

“Not buying it.”

“Ugh, you’re so annoying!” I whine and drop my face into my hands.

She giggles, obviously not caring at all that I’m already embarrassed. She nudges me in the shoulder to gain my attention. “Tell me. Come on. You know you want to,” she teases.

“Fine. Okay, you know how I can be a tad bit klutzy at times?”

“A tad?” she asks with one eyebrow raised in that cool way that most of us try to do and practice in the mirror but never achieve.

“Maybe more than a tad,” I tell her and wave her off. “Anyway, I kind of fell ass-over-elbow into him.”

She stares at me, as if this isn’t shocking, and I realize I didn’t tell her the worst part.

“Oh, right into his crotch,” I finish. There, that shocked her. Her hand stalls with her coffee cup midway to her mouth. Her eyes are wide, and her lip is twitching.

She bursts out laughing. “Oh girl. Seriously, only you! How in the world did you fall into his crotch?” Her voice is insanely loud and immediately gains the attention of everyone around us.

I smile uncomfortably at everyone who has turned toward us with weird looks on their faces.

“Shush! Do you have to be so loud?” I ask her.

“Well pardon me, I was a little shocked!” she says then shoos everyone from staring at us.

“Imagine how he and I felt!”

“Oh, I imagine you wanted to crawl in a hole.”

“Yeah, the thought crossed my mind.”

“So, take me through this. How did you happen to fall into his… crotch?” she asks in a quieter voice. Thank goodness.

“Well, you know me. I basically fell over my own two feet. I was wearing TOMS! TOMS, Christine! I tripped over a carpet square!” And then something horrifying happens. I literally can’t stop the words from spilling out of my mouth. “It’s his fault, really. I mean, you’ve seen him! He’s just… holy crap. I almost passed out. I wasn’t expecting Captain Frickin’ America to walk into my classroom! I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone as hot as he is in real life.

“I made such an ass out of myself, too. Just being near him made me all tongue-tied and idiotic. Then I acted like a chirpy little high school girl. I had to hide in my classroom and ask another teacher to cover the lunchroom for me when he had lunch with Harper so I wouldn’t trip all over him again… or try to feel him up, apparently.”

I notice, much, much too late, that her eyes have widened, and she’s no longer looking at me, but behind me. My stomach bottoms out, and I wish I could just slither between the benches and fall below the bleachers.

“Oh my gosh.” I groan as I drop my face into my hands knowing exactly who she’s looking at behind me. “He’s behind me, isn’t he?”

She nods her head to confirm my fears.

“A little heads up would have been nice!” I whisper shout to her.

“I didn’t know you were going to have verbal diarrhea!” she whispers back.

“Well, how was I supposed to know that he would be standing right behind me!?”

“Maybe don’t spill your guts on how frickin’ hot Hotty McHotPants is in public!”

“It’s not my fault he’s like some sort of gorgeous freak of nature! With those stupid muscles and scruff and those damn eyes that scream…”

I hear someone snort, and that’s when I realize too late, once again that we’re not really whispering at all. And everyone seated around us can hear every little thing we’re saying.

The dignity train that I got kicked off this morning? It just ran me over.

I take in a deep breath and turn my head to look up into James’s smiling face. “Hi,” I say with a grimace as my eyelids shutter. My elbow rests on my knee, hand to my cheek, and my lips press together.

I bite the corner of my mouth again, a nervous habit that I find myself doing around him far more than any other time. His smile is blinding, and bright blue eyes are twinkling. Shit. He looks good. He shouldn’t. It’s not like his outfit is anything that would normally scream sexy. But it works for him. Really well.

His worn jeans hug his thighs, and even though he’s in a hoodie, I can still see the definition of his strong upper body. He’s swapped out his ball cap for a simple black beanie. My eyes meet his and once again, I’m caught checking him out.

“Hi,” he says and doesn’t hesitate to sit next to me, nudging me slightly with his knee.

I have a brief flash of wishing he would lean over and kiss my cheek. And damn if he doesn’t smell good, too. I have to tell my body not to press into his.

Finally getting my bearings, I look around him and see Barrett and Tess. Barrett isn’t even trying to hide the fact that he finds the entire situation amusing and gives me a big toothy grin.

And… if I’m not mistaken, I believe he just either recorded that or snapped a pic of the two of us.

“Well, hi, Ms. Hanson. I hear you’ve met my brother-in-law, Captain James Cole,” he says proudly.

“Barrett!” Tess shouts and hits him in the shoulder at the same time that James reaches around and hits him in the back of the head.

“Ow! Damn, you two! What? I just wanted to make sure they were properly introduced!”

“I’m sorry, Carly. He was dropped on his head as a kid,” Tess says smiling apologetically.

Barrett scoffs next to her and inclines to say something to James.

I smile gratefully at her, desperately trying to ignore the level of heat that I feel coming off James’s thigh that just happens to be pressed against mine.

“Hey, Christine.” Tess says, leaning over James to get her attention.

“Hey there.”

“Thanks for picking up Maggie last night from practice.”

“No sweat, girl. I was there anyway for Bri. Besides, I got some of this guy’s cooking, so it was far from a burden,” she says, pointing toward James with her thumb while nudging my knee. It’s as if we’re in high school.

“He mentioned that he made supper for whoever stopped over, which explains why there’s no leftovers for us,” she says, grinning.

“Pretty sure the guys ate well after practice. How was your trip? Get recouped? Sleep better without Miss Harper around?”

“It was good. And yup. Lots of sleep. Just what we needed,” she tells us and blushes slightly.

“Good?” Barrett asks with his eyebrows raised. “I think it was better than good. Outstanding. Tremendous. Mind-blowing. Unforgettable. Those are all adjectives I would use. And sleep? Not so much,” he says waggling his eyebrows at James who wrinkles his nose, shakes his head, and mutters, “Dude. Gross.”

She rolls her eyes. “Okay, fine. Yes, it was all those things. We didn’t realize how much we needed the time away.”

“I’m glad you had that time together.”

“Us too. If it weren’t for James staying with the kids, it wouldn’t have been nearly as relaxing. I mean, aside from him letting her break her arm, of course.”

“Hey!” James shouts, offended. “Accident!”

She smiles. “Calm down. We know. Just teasing you.”

“How’s Harper? Was she too tired after school today?” I ask, redirecting where the conversation seems to be heading.

“Clearly,” she says pointing down to where she’s sitting with Maggie and several other high school students who all seem to be signing her cast, “she’s doing very well.”

“Ha, ha! I can’t say as I’m surprised. She seemed to be getting along quite well today. Didn’t slow her down any, that’s for sure.”

“Doesn’t seem to have. I don’t think she even would have cared if we hadn’t come home early. She was just worried that James was going to leave.”

“Uncle James for the win! I knew I was her favorite!” James says and throws a fist in the air.

In the very short time I’ve known him, he’s seemed playful, funny and a generally happy and optimistic guy. It’s refreshing to be around.

“Don’t let Dean hear you say that,” Tess snorts.

“Whatever. Boring old Dean’s got nothing on me. He knows the truth,” he says, sitting up straighter.

“Who’s Dean?” I find myself asking.

He turns to me, his beautiful blue eyes dancing. “Our older brother. Older and boring,” he repeats. “No way is there even competition.”

“Whatever lets you sleep at night,” Tess says, patting him on the shoulder.

“No way. I’m her favorite. She told me today! Right, Carly?” he turns glaring eyes at his sister then looks directly at me again. It’s the first time he’s used my given name, and I can’t say that it doesn’t do something to my insides. But even more than that, I love how he just casually included me into the conversation. As if I hadn’t spewed some incredibly telling information about what I think of him just moments ago.

“Yeah, all the way to Pluto and back,” I say while rolling my eyes.

“See?”

“James. Of course she’s going to say that!”

“You take a mean pill this morning?”

“Oh stop. I just meant because Dean’s already taken the Milky Way.”

He gasps. “She wouldn’t!”

“Oh, trust me…” Tess starts to say.

He sticks two fingers into his mouth and whistles loudly, causing everyone around us to once again turn our direction. “Harper Elizabeth Ryan! Get your cute butt up here!” he yells over three sets of bleachers in front of everyone when the whistle doesn’t get her attention.

She turns her head, scrunches up her nose, and shakes her head at him before going back to being the center of attention around Maggie and Grady’s friends.

He gasps again. “Why that little swindling turd! She just totally snubbed me!”

We all laugh at how offended he seems to be over a six-year-old brushing him off.

I reach my hand up and rub his arm before I think twice about it. “Aww, is Uncle James feeling a little rejected?”

He furrows his brow and pouts a little bit and shrugs his shoulders. He looks down at my hand that’s still on his arm and reaches up and pats it. “It’s okay. Just so long as that’s the only rejection I feel tonight,” he says, looking directly at me.

My breathing picks up. I can’t look away from him. He winks and gives me a smoldering smile before turning his attention toward the football field.

I’m in so much trouble.

Even with the distraction that is James Cole’s body so close to mine through the game, I am still watching Jack closely. He’s playing well, but I can’t help but notice that his eyes shift to the stands whenever he is on the sidelines. And he’s definitely not looking for me.

After a particularly long look shared between he and Maggie Ryan, James leans down and says, “They won’t be easy on him.”

“What? Who?” I turn to him, our faces close.

“Grady. Brandon. Basically, the rest of the team. They won’t make it easy on him.”

“On…”

“Oh, don’t play coy with me. I know you see Jack staring at Maggie every chance he can get.”

I roll my eyes and huff. “Oh fine. I saw it.”

He grins at my act of annoyance. “And he better be up for a challenge.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because Grady’s protective. Brandon, too.”

“Who’s Brandon?”

“Tess and Barrett’s best friends since childhood, their son. He’s known Maggie since she was born. The family is close.”

“Does Brandon…” I hesitate, not wanting to speak further.

“What?”

“Well, does he… have feelings for her?”

His eyes widen, and he barks out a laugh, his shoulders shaking against me. “Are you for real?”

“Well, yeah. I mean. It’s like one of my favorite romance genres to read about. Brother’s best friend.”

“I’m not really sure what a genre is, but the whole idea of Brandon and Maggie? No way. Not the case.”

“You sure?”

“I’m positive. It’s not that way,” he assures me.

Part of me wants to push further because this was my son’s heart on the line, and he may only be sixteen years old, but I’ve never seen him look at or talk about a girl the way he talks about Maggie. But a bigger part of me? The part that is growing increasingly more confused every single minute of this bizarre day? Doesn’t give a flying monkey because that part trusts James. I should probably feel entirely freaked out by this, but for whatever reason I’m not. And for once in my life, I’m not going to question it.

 

 

 

Liberty won, which means we’re going to the playoffs. When the buzzer sounds through the football stadium, indicating the end of the fourth quarter and another win for our boys in red and black, everyone stands and cheers wildly.

My heart is already pumping, excited for Jack and his teammates, but what makes me almost come out of my skin is the feel of James’s arm that wrapped around my waist when he gave me a side hug to celebrate the win, lifting me slightly off the ground because of our height difference. Instinctively, my arm goes around his shoulders, and for the life of me, I can’t remove it.

James gives my waist a light squeeze and looks down at me as he sets me on my feet, my arm naturally falling from his shoulders down to around his waist. My breathing suddenly feels shallow and short. It’s not lost on me that the hold, both physically and emotionally, we have on each other is far more intimate than what is appropriate for our one day of knowing each other. But I can’t bring myself to care.

He clears his throat, and I bite the corner of my bottom lip again. At this rate, it’s going to be gnawed clean off, and I’ll be left with a gaping hole in the corner of my mouth.

“Hey.” Crap. His voice is sexy, especially when it’s low like this. His eyes are still on mine, making my body heat from the top of my head to my toes.

“Hi.”

He smiles brilliantly. His eyes move from my eyes to my mouth and slowly back up.

“Can I ask you something?” he asks, his voice gravelly.

Throughout the game, we cheered and chatted. It felt natural, and nowhere in the evening did I feel uncomfortable around him. In fact, it was just the opposite. But the way he’s looking at me now? It doesn’t make me feel uncomfortable, so to speak, but definitely makes me a little twitchy. I don’t know what to do with the way he’s made me feel… basically all day long.

I stare blankly at him. I know he said something I’m supposed to respond to, but all I can think about is how his voice sounds… and lips look… and his eyes the color of the Caribbean Sea that never seem to be too far from me. He makes me dizzy with a feeling I haven’t felt in decades, if ever. Even my ex, Vince, never made me feel this way.

“Carly?” he asks quietly. Through the sounds of the crowd still cheering and talking, excited for the win, all I hear is his voice. Around us people move, yet we stay still.

I blink my eyes to shake myself out of the trance we have fallen into.

“What?”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Didn’t you just do that?”

He laughs at my lame joke. “Okay. I’ll amend that. Can I ask you another question?”

I nod my head.

“Can I…” He shifts nervously, clearing his throat. “…can I walk you to your car?”

I may be wrong, only knowing him for a day I can’t say as though I’m totally in tune with him, but I don’t think that’s what he intended to ask me. Especially considering that it’s a question worthy of a fourteen-year-old.

The fact that he is possibly as nervous around me as I am around him oddly makes me feel enormously better.

“Umm… What?”

“I chickened out. I’m sorry.”

A laugh bubbles up out of me. This entire day has been weird from start to finish. I don’t even acknowledge what he said about chickening out.

“Yeah, you can walk me to my car,” I answer, giving him an out.

“Alright then,” he says cheerfully.

As we’re walking down the bleachers, he ushers me slightly in front of him by putting his hand on my lower back. I clutch the blanket in my arms tighter as my heart feels like it could do a frog jump right out of my chest. I turn my head, and our eyes connect before I quickly turn away and focus on my feet walking down the bleacher stairs. No need for yet another stumble in front of James.

We get closer to the parking lot, and my nerves pick up. Three years ago, I made a promise to myself that I wouldn’t let a man take over my heart ever again. And this man, in the few hours that I’ve known him, has managed to make my heart race and stomach dip more times than in my entire life combined. It’s completely unsettling.

I stop walking in the middle of the parking lot and turn to him. “I just remembered I have to talk to Jack after the game.” Which is only partly a lie. I always talk to him after the game. Jack will wait for me, or I can easily just text or call him, but I need to escape.

He furrows his eyebrows just slightly. “Oh,” he says, obviously confused. “I can wait until you’re done.”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll just catch up with you later,” I start to walk away.

“Carly?” Christine calls out for me, but my feet are moving quickly toward Jack’s pickup.

“I’ll call you later,” I yell back to her, waving but not turning.

I don’t hear her response and don’t have the courage to look behind me in the direction of my friend, or James.

As soon as I see Jack’s pickup, I use the extra key I have in my purse and let myself in. Before long, I see him come out of the locker room. He’s laughing with his teammates, but the second he notices I’m sitting in his truck, he turns to them and nods then quickly heads my way.

“You alright?” he asks before he’s even fully settled in the cab.

“Yeah,” I lie.

“What happened?”

“Nothing,” I lie again.

“Mom. What happened? Did he…” He looks around the parking lot nervously.

“No. Nothing like that. I promise.”

“What was it, then?” My teenage son. Much too perceptive for his age.

“Just old skeletons, I suppose,” I say, hoping that will be enough. But of course, it isn’t.

“Did someone hurt you?” he asks, his voice dangerously low.

“NO! Oh kiddo. No. You don’t need to worry about me. Okay? Just go celebrate your amazing win, alright?”

His eyes assess me, looking me over. His voice softens, and he reaches over to me, grabbing my hand in his. “Mom.”

“I mean it. I just needed to sit here to get away, I guess.”

“Get away? From who?”

“Jack. I’m fine. I just needed to have a minute or two alone. And to tell you how proud I am of you. You’re a good kid, you know that?”

“Thanks to you,” he tells me, making my heart squeeze.

“So, what’s the plan for tonight?” I ask him, officially changing the subject.

He gives me a hard look, which I return, and he sighs heavily. “I think we’re going over to Blake’s house for the after-game-supper-thing that some of the parents do, which you’re welcome to come over for, you know that, right? Christine comes a lot.”

“I know. I appreciate it. Maybe next time, okay?”

“Mom, you say that every week,” he groans.

“Jack, don’t start.”

“I just don’t understand why you won’t get to know some of the other parents. It’s been three years.”

“My job is to keep you safe. If that means I need to keep my distance and not get to know people, so be it.”

“He’s not going to come here.”

“You don’t know that. Just, trust me, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Are you going to see Maggie?” I ask, changing the subject, my voice teasing.

He smiles brightly. “I don’t hide it very well, do I?”

“Not really.”

“I don’t think I will tonight. She told me at school today her parents are back home now, and I think she wants to hang out with them after the game. Soon,” he says, his voice confident.

“James tells me it might be a challenge,” I say and immediately regret it.

His eyes widen. “James, huh? As in Maggie’s uncle?”

“Mm-hmm. Yup.”

“When did you talk to James? Or better yet… when did you meet him?”

Before I can stop them, a flood of nonsensical words spill from my mouth. “Umm, he dropped off Harper, Maggie’s little sister? You know her? At school this morning since her parents were gone, and she had broken her arm. Did you remember that? Anyway. He dropped her off then came back and had lunch with her, then I saw him at the game. He’s a nice guy, I suppose. He played soccer with Harper’s classmates and had lunch with her — I think I said that already — and we sat by each other at the game tonight. But yeah, he said you might have a challenge ahead of you. Sounds like she’s got some overprotective older brothers and stuff.”

Ho-ly. Crappola. I just rambled for a ridiculous amount of time. And not a single bit of it made a lick of sense. Of course he knows Harper. Of course he didn’t forget something that happened just last night. Jack’s eyebrows have shot clear into his hairline, and he covers his mouth with his hand to stop from laughing directly at me.

“I think I understand now.”

“Oh, shut it.”

He laughs out loud at me. “Mom. What’s the deal?”

“Nothing,” I say, my voice embarrassingly high.

“Really? Because it seems there’s some deal happening over here.” He motions his finger in a figure eight in my direction.

“I’m not ready,” I say quietly.

“You don’t have to be.” He shrugs. It seems weird that my best friend is my sixteen-year-old son. But we’ve been through more together than most mothers and sons. The fact that he just gets it, is mindful of everything that’s happened, makes me love him even more, if possible.

“Thank you, Jack.”

“You’re welcome, Mom. But just to say, I only met him last night and think he’s totally cool. He seems like a really nice guy, and if you’re not ready because of me, don’t worry about it. I’m here for you, and that’s it.”

“You’re a good kid,” I repeat.

He smiles and reaches over to me, pulling me in for a hug.

“Love you, Mom.”

“Love you, too, kiddo. Now, get out of here. Looks like you have a few people waiting.” I motion with my head in the direction where a giddy-looking Maggie stands with Bri and a scowling Grady.

“Oh, that looks like fun,” he says, chuckling.

“It won’t be easy.”

“But it will be worth it.” He climbs out of the pickup.

I watch as he strides toward the trio. Grady looks down at Bri, his body seeming to relax. Maggie is nearly bouncing on her toes as Jack gets closer. He steps right in front of Maggie as Grady also takes a step closer to her. Bri tugs on his arm. Grady’s shoulders rise and fall in a deep exhale, then he turns and says something to Jack. Jack nods his head and sticks his fist out to bump.

Grady returns the fist-bump halfheartedly. Bri giggles and begins walking away with Grady reluctantly in tow.

It makes my heart joyful to see Jack this happy. To see him putting himself out there. As soon as they turn their backs, Jack reaches up a hand and tugs on Maggie’s ponytail and motions to her jersey — that has his number on it. She smiles and turns her head. He stuffs his hands in his jeans pockets as they continue talking. It’s such a typical scene but still adorable.

I lock up Jack’s truck and make my way to my car, noticing the parking lot is pretty empty now, aside from several student vehicles and one lone car that just started up and is pulling away from its spot. I wonder how long — or if — James stood around waiting for me to stop acting immature. The fact that it even crosses my mind bothers me.

I’m not ready.

I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready.

I’m not harboring feelings for Vince. Well, except for hate. That one is holding pretty strong.

I hate him for making me scared to live a normal life.

I hate him for making me doubt myself.

I hate him for making me never want to love again.