Changing Course (Wrecked and Ruined #1)(57)

Lifting me off my feet, I wrap my legs around his waist as he pushes me against the wall. He uses one hand to turn the water as hot as it will go. It only warms a fraction of a degree, but it's just enough to keep us in the shower for another twenty minutes. Brett utilized those minutes and made good on his promise. We properly christen my shower. Hard.





Brett

IT'S BEEN seven weeks since Sarah showed up at Nell's. I have to say, I thought I would never have another shot with Jesse after those first few days. Everything went so wrong so fast, but I never should have underestimated her. She hasn't asked about Sarah again, which really surprises me. I keep waiting for her to sit me down to have "the talk" one day, but she never does.

After the first two weeks, I realized how weird she gets when I drop her off on Wednesday nights. She always hugs me extra tight and repeats over and over again what a good time she had. She talks a million words a minute, and chews on her thumb nail. I've learned both are telltale signs that Jesse’s nervous. At first I couldn't figure it out, but when she made zero attempts to reach me on Thursdays, it didn’t take me long to figure out why.

Jess and I text all day. She sends me sweet notes, and I send her dirty ones. On Thursdays though, she goes quiet. I realized she must remember that I visit Sarah on Thursdays. So, I go out of my way to call her every night as soon as I get home. We talk for hours, and those are the best hours of my entire day.

Jesse may dread Thursdays but I've grown to loathe them. I went to Sarah's every day after her freak-out at Nell's. For the first two days, she stayed locked in her bedroom. She wouldn't eat anything, and if it wasn't for the fact that I could occasionally hear her TV changing channels and the shower going on and off, I would have worried. On day three, I ducked out of work a little early to check on her and when I got there, she was standing in her kitchen with a huge smile on her face.

"Hey Sexy! I was wondering when you were going to show up," she says, tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder. As she moved her hands back down I caught the sparkle off her left hand.

"How you doing, Sarah?" I ask, trying to figure out what the hell she's doing still wearing her rings.

"I'm good. Are you just going to stand in the doorway and stare at me all night, or are you coming inside?" Her candor is nothing unusual, but I'm still suspicious as hell.

"I made dinner," she says, pulling a casserole dish out of the fridge. Sarah always made the weirdest food. I guess they aren't weird to everyone, but I was never a fan. She made southern dishes like potato soup, made with more butter than milk, or fried macaroni and cheese bites. I'm sorry, but does Mac n' cheese need to be deep fried? Her family raved about her cooking, but I never could get on board with soggy bread-like noodles in chicken soup. She called it chicken and dumplings. I called it gross. However, when she would branch out into different types of food, it was always delicious.

My favorite of all her meals was her seven layer Mexican dip. She always made it for my birthday, or any time we were celebrating something special. God, it was good. So when I see her unwrap a dish topped with lettuce and decorated with dollops of sour cream, my eyes jump to hers.

"What is that?" I ask skeptically.

"Seven layer dip." She acts like it’s nothing more than ingredients tossed in a bowl. We both know it’s more. It's a memory. It's happiness. It's our past. I have to restrain myself from reaching out and slapping that stupid ass dish across the room. I want to see it shatter into a million pieces, just like our future. Fucking seven layer dip!

I try to compose myself enough to speak. "I'm glad you're feeling better. I need to get back to work."

"Baby, you haven't eaten yet."

"Don't call me that!" I shout.

"Jesus, it's just f*cking dinner. Stop freaking out," she responds, rolling her eyes at my outburst. "You’re acting like a douche right now." Yep, still the same new Sarah.

"Dinner, right." I nod knowing she's flat out lying, but I can't figure out why. "What are you doing? You haven't cooked for me in years. Now two days after showing up and freaking out on the woman I'm seeing, you make my favorite meal? For what?" I begin to get angrier as I talk. It's one head trip after another with this woman. "Please, just tell me why!" I scream across her room.

"Because you are the only one who hasn't turned their back on me," she rushes out, stepping towards me. "Because I know I messed things up for you a few days ago with that girl. And...and because I miss you," she says, in a voice unlike any version of Sarah I've ever seen.

I take a step forward trying to get a better read on the situation. She's done nothing but push me away, now she misses me? Stunned by her admission, I can't even stop to evaluate my feelings, but that doesn't stop a knot from forming in my throat.

She closes the distance between us, resting her hands on my chest, "I miss you, baby," she repeats, staring down at the ground. "Maybe we could try to work something out, get to know each other again." Using her foot to draw patterns in the carpet, she leans into me. I don't recognize this woman. She is so timid and shy. She's so...Jesse. Shit! Jess. I quickly take a step backwards out of her reach, and thankfully she doesn't follow.

"Start talking," I demand.