She’s coming home. I can’t believe she’s coming home. I act cool. I always try when I’m around Ben. If he knew how I think about Jenny, he’d be pissed. She’s his little sister and he protects her fiercely, especially after his fiancée, Beth died. He keeps a close eye on her and has made it clear that no man – correction, no player – is acceptable.

I knew back then I had feelings for her, but she had two strikes against her. Number one, she was young. Number two, she was Ben’s sister. The third strike hasn’t come across the plate yet, however, given her treatment of me over the years, I would say I’m out.

Even so, she was the one girl I felt like I could be me around. She didn’t judge me or treat me like I was the kid with the crazy mom. She would listen to me and I liked that. Plus the way she looked at me made my ego expand, just like my dick would grow when she was around. The older she got, the more it happened.

But after she left, her temperament changed. She’s grown pissy, sassy, and downright angry with me. The shitty thing about it is that I honestly don’t know why. So I learned to keep my mouth shut and stay away when she came home for vacations. It was better this way.

It actually bothered me how hostile she became toward me. The one girl I felt things for didn’t like me anymore. I opted for the no stress route and actively ignored her visits. I like no strain and pressure.

My life is free and easy. No major expectations and no disappointments. I keep women at arms’ length and never let anyone in. Too many people I love have died so it’s easier to separate and be distant. I don’t keep it a secret, either. The women I date know that about me. There’s no hidden agenda. I am who I am.

And Jenny hates it.

She won’t let me be like that and it frustrates me. She digs in deeper and I actually didn’t mind it. All the talks we had without Ben knowing still replay in my head. She’s been the one girl, now woman, who I could tell anything.

My mind goes back to Ben. He’s my best friend, and we’ve been through a lot together. When Beth died, we both fought through the pain. His was for the love of his life. Mine was for my mother. We understand that loss isn't something you want to experience at a young age.

Ben is the one person I can count on, besides my sister, in this world. We are there for each other. We both know the crap side of life. He, however, is a one woman guy. As for me, I prefer the buffet.

Whether it’s fortunate or not, with my best friend comes his sister. She has been constantly popping back in my head. Damn. With her attitude toward me we’ve never gotten back to the way we used to be. It was my fault. I knew where things were heading and I had to stop it. I know my rejection of her that night years ago hurt her. But I honestly didn’t think it would make her hate me.

My rationale for pushing her away was simple. She wasn’t just some girl to me – she was more. That scared me because, eventually, I would have fucked it up. There’s no way in hell I could do that to her. Plus, she needed to go and grow up. Live her best life. As tough as it was, I needed to let her.

How I went about it is not something I’m proud of. I knew what I was doing the night of her graduation. The almost kiss a few days before sent me on a spiral. Bringing that girl and blowing her off was the right thing to do, even if it pained her.

It was better that way. At least I keep telling myself that. If I had known that she would hate me forever, I would have handled it better. But I was young and stupid. It still makes me feel like shit all these years later.

I thought I was doing the right thing by being the adult in the situation. I knew how she felt and, in a way, I liked the attention. She was effortless to be around and made me feel safe. But then she scared me, so I had to be an asshole.

When she left for Boston, a switch flipped and she became this other person. No longer was she quiet and reserved. Over the years, she grew confident and self-assured. However, she was also pissed at me. I knew she would be mad but not to this extent.

I close my eyes and think about when we were kids. She would always tag along. Ben and I tortured her daily. She would take it and get us back occasionally. She loved to climb trees, jump into the swimming hole off the tire swing, ride on our bikes, race her horse out in the vineyard, and just basically hang out with the boys.

As she got older, she turned into a gorgeous beauty, inside and out. The effort it took to not think about her in a sexy way killed me. I would catch her staring, and I have to admit that stroked my ego, but she’s like a sister for Christ’s sake. Ben’s little sister and he would kill me. But still her deep blue eyes haunt me, especially when her long blond hair covers them slightly. It’s as if she is trying to hide from me but she can’t. I see right through her.

Opening my eyes, I take a look around my living room. It’s furnished nicely with some personal photos, but it’s not warm. Another Saturday night and I’m alone.

I left the pub after the rugby drink-up hours ago. People assume that I left with some chick I picked up. Fact is, I haven’t gone home with anyone in months. Six to be exact. It’s by choice. I don’t want to go home with anyone. I’m trying to refocus and get some perspective in my life.

What I’ve learned? Not too much. Well, maybe a little.

So far I know that I’m ok with being alone and not being constantly entertained. I’ve realized that I do miss sex, but I jerk off instead. I’m surviving without it. Don’t get me wrong I friggin' miss it, but my hand works just fine. I’ve worked through my mom’s death a bit and lessening my blame. Surprisingly, the biggest thing I’ve learned is that I need to talk to Jenny.

Telling her to leave and ignoring her after our close call in the barn years ago hurt her. It pained me too. I purposely pushed her away. An apology is in order so that perhaps we can be friends again.

I miss her. I don’t think we have had a normal conversation in years. If I ask her a question, she usually stares me down and becomes oppositional. It’s like she gets some sick satisfaction out of arguing with me. But, God help me, I love it. And if I let myself admit it – it excites me.

I admire her passion, conviction, and feistiness. She drives me crazy and the constant banter back and forth is refreshing. Sure, she can irritate the shit out of me, but deep down I love the challenge she brings.

Putting my beer down on the coffee table, my gaze drifts. It stops at the fireplace mantel where several picture frames adorn it. I scan each one slowly, only allowing what I want to remember tonight. Each one depicts the story of a boy who grew up fast and dealt with some shitty situations.

My eyes stop at the one that gives me the best memories. I walk over and pick it up. I smile when I think of the trip Jenny, Ben, and I took to Lake Tahoe after college graduation. We sat around the campfire one night and, for just a brief moment, our hands touched. I didn’t think anything of it but after she moved it, I missed the warmth.

That touch confused me. That’s when things changed for me. I looked forward to our talks. I liked being alone with her. She listened to me.

Placing the frame back on display, I sit down and contemplate what the hell I’m going to do next. “Fuck.” She’s on her way home, and I have no idea what the hell to do.

We need to talk and be civil. For everyone’s sanity, including my own. But god help me because it’s going to be torture. My self-imposed celibacy has provided some clarity. I think about her hand and how our lips almost touched years ago. She is slowly consuming me. Her coming home tortures me.

And that’s what I want. At least that's what I think I want. I want to think about her and feel good again. I’m not lonely when she’s in my thoughts.

My mind immediately shifts into getting her in my Jeep and strapping her in tight. Driving out to the fields after a rain storm, throwing it into four wheel drive and pressing the pedal down. I can see her smile as her head tips back and laughs. I reach out to touch her leg just above her knee and squeeze it, making her squirm and squeal.

“Jesus, Jack, cut the shit!” I grab the remote and turn on the television hoping to get lost in a movie. I need to get myself under control and play things cool. Breaking Jenny from her anger toward me will be a tough task. Her wall is a towering fortress.

But I’m ready for it. We have to talk and deal with it. It’s time to shake things up. Feeling satisfied with my upcoming challenge, I lie back and find that one of my favorites is on: Die Hard. It’s the perfect movie to turn my brain off and distract me for a little while.

Tomorrow is a new day with new possibilities. And Jenny.