by Hadley Quinn
Instead, I asked if anyone needed anything else, fetched the ranch and an extra beer for Boxer—go figure, he was twenty-one—and then moved on to my other tables. It had to be the most fucked-up night ever, with Boxer trying to hide a smile every time he stared at me and Josh shooting daggers any chance he could.
“I’m dying here, Jo,” Anna said, grabbing my arm when we had a breather. “Both guys at the same table, what are the odds?”
“His name is Julian.” I nodded vacantly, still stunned that I’d given him my phone number. What the hell was I thinking? I’d only gone on two dates since my divorce—two—and neither one made me want to get involved with another man again. And now, I had just given my brother’s friend a tiny glimmer of hope, knowing full well I couldn’t go through with it.
“I know, I saw it on his ID,” Anna giggled. “Julian Alexander Bachsman. Five-eleven, one-ninety, brown hair/blue eyes.”
I laughed at how proud she was of herself. “Nice.”
“And he is adorable, Jo. Those dimples, my God. And definitely smitten with you. So is tall, dark, and tattooed,” she added with a snort.
“Yeah, right. He’d rather murder me.”
She turned to walk away. “That is where you’re totally wrong.”
~6~
I didn’t mean for it to happen, yet I found myself sifting through high school memorabilia the next day. All I had was one single box of yearbooks, photos, and other miscellaneous items like ticket stubs and academic awards, but it seized my interest.
Josh wouldn’t get out of my head. Old Josh, new Josh—it didn’t matter. It was a clash of past and present grinding in my brain nonstop. I needed to figure out why he was so different now, but most importantly, how he’d grown to dislike me so much.
“He was so sweet,” I whispered to myself, tracing a finger over his yearbook photo.
We’d both lived in a small town north of San Francisco, went to the same small-town high school, and became a classic small-town couple our senior year. Josh was an amazing athlete and loved football and baseball; I was the supportive girlfriend and went to all his games. We went to dances together, had homework dates, and our parents became friends.
It really was a great time in my life.
When Josh received a scholarship to play at USC, we discussed going there together. My grades were good enough to apply but not to receive any scholarships. My parents were willing to find a way to make it work…until my dad got laid off from his job.
Instead of student loans, I decided to take a year off and work for my mom’s accounting firm as a receptionist. Josh and I decided a long-distance relationship wasn’t a smart idea with the amount of time he’d be dedicating to school and sports, and I didn’t want to hold him back from achieving his goals. He had his heart set on playing pro football.
And then I met Chris. Josh’s texts and calls—even as friends—had started to taper off. Chris and his family were clients at my mom’s accounting firm, and I began to see him quite often. When he asked me out, Josh and I were barely speaking anymore. I just felt like the timing was right, and Chris was very persistent back then.
Maybe I was too young and dumb at the time, but Chris completely won me over. He was sweet and charming, took me out on a date every weekend, and my parents absolutely adored him. We seemed like a perfect fit, and life moved on effortlessly.
For about a year into our marriage, at least. Then things gradually changed. The traits I used to think were so wonderful in Chris started to have a negative effect on me. His decisiveness turned into overbearing and controlling, and his “wise words” turned into manipulation. It never felt like he had my best interest in mind, not to mention he was gone twelve hours a day and most weekends.
I never felt like a priority. And it wasn’t because he worked a lot. It was other things like weekend trips with his brother, taking clients out to special events, and basically brushing off anything I was ever concerned with.
Our date nights even became non-existent.
It was the loneliest feeling, and whenever I’d bring up my worries, he’d get defensive and claim I was being needy or didn’t understand what his advertising job entailed. He even told me he felt like I didn’t support him. And I believed him. I let him make me feel like a whiney, selfish piece of shit.
Maybe I was in denial, because I kept trying. Every year that passed, I tried harder to make things work. Until I ran into his brother at the store one weekend—a weekend Chris claimed he was spending with said brother.
When I confronted my husband, he was pissed I didn’t trust him. He was also furious I didn’t just ask him about it first because there was a simple explanation why his brother had to back out. He was such a smooth talker, I believed him yet again. He had an excuse for everything, and he had a special knack for making other people feel at fault.
Then she came to see me—the woman he’d been sneaking around with. Her name was Larissa, and she dropped by my work specifically to talk to me. She was upset, claimed she never knew he was married, and promised she was done with him the second she found out.
I was speechless. Numb. My entire mind went into I’m-so-stupid mode. My mom had heard everything from her office, and so had several other employees. I was humiliated and could never show my face there again. I didn’t want my mom’s sympathy, either. She had always loved Chris and forever took his side. I’d shared some of my concerns with her over the years, and she’d brushed them off like they were just everyday problems in every marriage.
I still somewhat resented her for that.
My brother picked me up that day, and I just bawled in his pickup for an hour, blubbering about my life and all the signs—that I should have seen it coming. Why didn’t I know better? Why did I put up with so much shit?
When I finally returned home, Chris was waiting for me. He was upset, he was sorry, he begged for my forgiveness…but I was done. I told him to move out and that we were divorcing and selling the house.
I hadn’t been happy for a long time but didn’t know how to fix it. In some ways, I was thankful for Larissa because she helped me see I’d been living a lie right along with my husband. I didn’t know how or why things worked out the way they did, but I promised myself I would never put up with a man who didn’t treat me like the most important thing in the world.
I didn’t have room in my life for mediocre anymore.
Sniffling, I wiped the tears off my face. I’m not sure why I took the trip down memory lane, but I packed up my high school items and pushed the box away from me. The mystery of Josh Cameron would need to disappear as well, because I didn’t want to waste more time on ghosts of the past.
I’d been haunted enough.
~
“Here.” I pushed the photo against Anna’s chest. She took possession and flipped it around to study it.
“Holy eff, this is the same guy?” she gaped. “No wonder you’re a mess.”
I grunted but walked off to clock in.
Anna trailed behind. “Wow, you were so cute together. Look at you.”
“Yeah, ten years seems like fifty for some reason.”
“Jo, you seriously need to talk to him. I can tell it is eating you up inside.”
It was. And when I called Anna on Sunday night to moan about the memory box I’d pulled out, she told me running into Josh had been a sign.
I wasn’t so sure.
“A lot can happen in ten years, Jolie. You don’t know what he’s been through or where he’s been all this time. Just find out. And if his attitude really is toward you, then at least you can find out why—if you honestly don’t know.”
I faced her with a scowl. “What, you think I broke his heart and just won’t admit it?”
She didn’t confirm nor deny, so I spun away to grab my apron.
“Jo,” she sighed. “Come on. I just think there’s something that’s caused him to act that way. If he meant anything to you back then, I think you should find out what happened
between you.”
“We just drifted apart, okay? We were friends, then dated for the last half of our senior year, and then mutually headed different directions as friends again. It’s as simple as that.”
But her opinion bothered me. Maybe he truly was upset with me for a reason I wasn’t aware of?
I had to put it behind me. I was sick and tired of my happiness being controlled by men. It was the one thing I’d sworn to myself I wouldn’t allow. I took on yoga after moving into my new apartment, to get some quiet meditation in. Writing had also been good therapy for me.
And work was going okay. I finally felt like I was getting the hang of waitressing and becoming more efficient at it. Still needed to let down my guard a bit if I wanted to be friendlier, but that was a work in progress.
I didn’t need complications while I restarted my life.
The next Friday night, Sam and his buddies reappeared. Once again, they joked around with another bet, and once again, I still ended up getting over thirty percent for a tip even though I lost.
Sam still never got around to asking me out, if that was his goal, but I was glad. I wasn’t ready to date, and I think he sensed that. He seemed like a nice guy. I just didn’t get a strong urge to go out with him. I appreciated those guys and their business, though, and started considering them regulars.
I attended the second game of my brother’s preseason doubleheader on Saturday. He only pitched two innings, but it was worth watching. Because I had to leave by three for a dinner shift, I didn’t get to see the entire game.
While I was walking to my car, my eyes fell upon the tall figure standing by the fence. He was facing away, so I’m not sure how the hell I knew it was Josh.
My heart started thumping in my chest, rousing my nerves and causing my breath to catch, and it was then I noticed he was talking to my brother through the fence between innings—only because Drew saw me and waved goodbye.
And that’s when Josh glanced back and noticed me.
I froze. My brother was jogging back to the dugout, but Josh turned my direction. It was the way he stood. That’s what had been so familiar to me. Some things were memorable no matter how much time had passed.
There was no logical thought in my head, so I’m not sure what made me walk over to him, but I could sense his wariness of me as I neared.
I wasn’t sure if I liked that or not.
“Hey, Josh.”
He eyed me until I stopped at the fence with him. My brother’s team was up to bat, so I pretended like I cared enough to watch the batter. Then I recognized Boxer and felt guilty. He’d called me twice since I’d given him permission, and I basically told him he and I weren’t a good idea.
“What brings you here?” I asked, giving Josh a side-glance. “Miss it?”
He turned his head to look right at me but didn’t say anything. I was almost afraid he wasn’t going to speak to me, and then I’d have to kick myself for making effort that wasn’t reciprocated.
“The kid invited me,” he replied, and then he returned to watching the game.
Despite his dry response, my heart was triggered with emotion. Josh had always called my little brother “kid.” It was meant to be a silly joke—like he always forgot his name—but Drew had loved it and knew it was, in fact, an endearment.
I leaned my shoulder against the fence to face Josh. Again, he wouldn’t look at me, but I continued to stare—at his chin, his cheekbones, those lips…and my favorite part of him, his eyes. Those gorgeous brown eyes that I still found completely mesmerizing.
He knew I was studying him but still wouldn’t acknowledge it. Instead, he stared at the ground, seemingly bothered and impatient until he sighed. “What do you want, Jolie?”
I barely shook my head, confused not only by the question but how to answer, and again, why he was so annoyed with me.
At last he looked at me, our eyes meeting for several intense beats as he waited for my answer. A mix of sadness and excitement washed through me, and it was a strange sensation. Part of me wanted to hug him, but a larger part of me wanted to cry because I did not recognize the soul in this man.
“I want you to talk to me,” I answered softly. “I want to know why you look at me the way you do—with distrust and anger. Why do you hate me? I don’t know what I did, Josh. Please talk to me.”
He looked away. The game could have been exciting, but I knew that wasn’t the case. “I don’t hate you, Jo. It’s just…” He sighed again, and if he didn’t hate me, he sure looked pretty pissed. “I’m not the same person you used to know.”
The crack of the bat was an easy distraction. I watched Boxer run through first base as the right fielder scooped up the grounder in front of us.
“That much is obvious,” I replied. “Look at you. You’ve really grown up, Josh. I barely recognized you outside the coffee shop. The only thing that really clued me in was your eyes and the fact that you called me JoJo.”
He faced me again. “You look exactly the same. It’s like time stopped.”
I scowled at him. “Then why’d you say I looked different?”
“Was just being an ass.”
“Mmhmm.” I narrowed my eyes. “And why did you feel you ought to do that?”
“Like I said, I’m a different person these days. I’m not the nice guy you once knew.”
“And why is that?”
There was a commotion on the bases, and then the opposing team cheered. Boxer had been picked off first. He trotted back to the dugout, obviously upset with the outcome.
“Life can change a person. I’ve just learned to avoid people and keep to myself. Simple as that.”
Wow. That sounded familiar. But… “You accepted my brother’s invite to hang out at a sports bar,” I argued. “That’s not avoiding people.”
With an exhale, he shook his head. “I couldn’t say no to him. It was like…it was like a decade ago when he would beg to go get ice cream with us.”
I smiled as specific memories dotted my thoughts. Drew was so cute back then, always wanting to be around Josh. Sometimes my parents had to intervene because Josh had a tough time telling him no.
“Yes, I can definitely understand that,” I agreed.
We stood in silence for almost a minute. I didn’t know why it was so difficult to find something to say. We’d never had that problem before.
“Are you happy, Jo?” he suddenly asked.
His voice was tentative—dejected, even—but for once, it didn’t upset me. For some reason, I was reading between the lines and felt a jolt of hope shoot through me. It felt like he was inquiring about my life which, in turn, proved he cared.
“I’m not married anymore,” I admitted, feeling like I should just cut right to it. “We divorced last year, and it feels really nice to start over again. Scary, but refreshing.”
I faced him to gauge his reaction. He was staring at me, those deep pools of chocolate screaming a thousand different things. I wasn’t sure how much he knew about my life, but I could tell he didn’t know that.
“You…you’re not married?” he asked, almost carefully like he didn’t believe me.
I shook my head no. “Didn’t work out. We were…too different.” I wanted to admit Chris was a fucking prick but chose to keep it simple.
Josh cast me a smug glance. “Sex was that horrible, huh?”
I was taken aback by his directness but wasn’t offended. There were far more serious issues, but his offhand remark was a start.
“Something like that,” I replied lightly.
He seemed to know his words had been insensitive because he frowned with hesitation, staring at the outfield.
“What about you?” I asked.
He faced me again. “What about me?”
Shrugging, I dared to inquire. “Married? Girlfriend?” I paused. “Boyfriend?”
He narrowed his eyes at me, but I could see the humor in them. I wondered if he might have laughed if he wasn’t so set on being wary and myster
ious.
“None of the above.”
Josh watched the next batter, so I chose to observe as well. At least until I could decide which way I wanted the conversation to go.
“So…you said last year?” he asked.
He was still watching the game. I almost preferred that. I felt somewhat insecure being a divorced twenty-eight-year-old. I knew it was nothing to be ashamed of, even though I felt I got married too young, but the mix of feelings still ran deep. Knowing you made the right decision and adjusting to it comfortably were two different things.
“Yes, it’ll be a full year next month.”
“And…you’re happy?”
His question was simple; the answer wasn’t. I was still trying to dog paddle my way through the sea of uncertainty.
“I am, no doubt,” I lied. Again, I was but I wasn’t. It was bittersweet. Maybe happier was the correct word, but true happiness was my goal, so I was okay with giving myself some assurance, some hope. Who cares if I had to “fake it until I make it.”
In one swift move, Josh grabbed my hand and pulled me along to follow him. It was so unexpected, I gasped. It was also…exhilarating. My heart was racing for the unknown, the unknown with this new Josh Cameron. And in that ten seconds we walked, I enjoyed every bit of him holding my hand. It felt new and strange, yet oddly familiar. He’d always had strong, rough hands; now he had the strong, rough hands of a twenty-eight-year-old man.
I’m ridiculous. I know.
We stopped at a big, beautiful black truck, and he pushed my back up against the door, blocking me in with his body. We were inches apart, our chests rising and falling as we stared at one another with confusion, regret…
Lust.
“I’m gonna kiss you, JoJo, and if you don’t want me to, you’d better stop me right now.”
~7~
Stop him? Hell, I was afraid of how much I wanted him to do more than just kiss me! It was like that wall of doubt started to crumble away, for both of us.
“I won’t object,” I answered, breathlessly, once I realized he was waiting for an answer. In fact, if he didn’t kiss me, I was going to take matters into my own hands.
