Dear Life(60)

Digging through my purse, I search for my keys to my car. My hands hit my wallet, a packet of Lifesavers, and a few loose tampons, but no keys.

“Ugh, where are those damn things?” I mutter.

“Looking for these?” The voice in the dark night scares the absolute piss out of me, causing me to jump no less than five feet in the air. At least that’s what it seems like.

“Gahh!” I hold my heart, my breathing erratic as I look up and see Jace standing against my car, holding my keys out in front of him. On the verge of having a heart attack, I place a hand on the hood of my car for balance as the other one holds my chest. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, scaring me like that? I could have whacked you in the nuts with my purse.”

Chuckling softly, he steps forward, under a parking lot lamp so his face is well lit, forming deep shadows in his features. “Your purse to the nuts would have been easily blocked.”

“I’m swift. There’s no way you could have blocked that attack.”

He looks me up and down. “I would have taken my chances anyway. So tell me, Hollyn, why are your keys on the ground near your car?”

Remembering he has my keys, I reach for them but he pulls away and waits for an answer to his question. “Ugh, I don’t know. I probably missed my purse when I was trying to fit them in.”

“Uh-huh. Answer me this, do you always leave your door unlocked?”

“If someone wanted to break into my car, that’s their problem. They won’t find much besides some wipes, a few pairs of ten-dollar sunglasses, some old gum, and a Glee CD that has been listened to way too much.”

“Old gum is always a winning item to steal from a car.” He nods. “Okay, one more question. Why are you talking to me now but when I call and text, you refuse to answer me back?”

Up front, isn’t he?

What do I really say? I didn’t get them? That would be a blatant lie since he can probably see on his phone that I read his messages. Maybe I can say I was too shy to respond? No, that is probably the worst lie ever. The truth? That I can barely look at him after kissing him because it reminds me of the fact that I cheated on my husband and that, even though I feel guilty as hell, all I want to do right now is kiss him again.

Where’s a psychologist? They would have a field day with that.

“Well . . .”

“Come on,” I respond, not able to look at him. “I’m pretty sure you know why I haven’t gotten back to you.”

“Let’s pretend I have no clue,” he counters. “I want to hear it from your lips. Tell me why you’re not responding to me.”

“Jace.”

“Hollyn,” he says back, not letting up.

“Why are you even here? Aren’t you supposed to be in Arizona?”

“I am. But I was able to squeeze out for the night. I fly back tomorrow. Like I said, the front office is being lenient with me right now, given my situation.”

“So why are you here?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” He takes another step closer. “I want to know what the hell is going on with you.”

“Nothing is going on.” I stab at the asphalt with my toe, avoiding all eye contact with the handsome, all-American boy.

“Bullshit,” he calls out and then sighs. He moves from standing in front of me to leaning on my car. He sticks his hands in his tight-fitting jeans, and I can’t help but notice the way his pecs ripple under his long-sleeved shirt. Doesn’t he know it’s still winter in Colorado? Where is his jacket?

“Hollyn, I need you,” he admits, pulling my thoughts away from his body and back to the man himself.

“What?” I ask.

Meeting my gaze, he continues. “I need you, Hollyn. You’re the only one I can really talk to about everything. I’ve grown to rely on you, and when I need you the most, you freeze me out. It’s not fucking fair. I thought I was more important to you than that.”

“Jace,” I sigh, my heart wavering. He needs me. When was the last time someone actually needed me? The last time: when Eric was alive. And just like that, I’m back to the nauseous feeling that won’t go away. Wanting to tell Jace the truth, I say, “I feel guilty around you.”

“Guilty?” His eyebrow quirks up, completely confused by my statement. “Why do you feel guilty?”

“Because.”

Yup, solid answer. I should be a master conversationalist.

“Care to elaborate?”

“Not really.” I cross my arms over my chest and continue to stare at the ground.

“Hollyn, cut the shit,” he says sternly, throwing me for a loop. With his index and middle finger, he lifts my chin and forces me to make eye contact. “We’re honest with each other, if anything. Tell me what’s going on.”

Sighing, I sit on the hood of my car and set my purse down next to me. Jace steps up in front of me, his body fitting between my legs, crowding my space. Nervous of his proximity, I take a deep breath before I tell him what I’ve been feeling.

“We kissed.”

“We did. I remember.” He smirks at me, which strangely eases the tension in my shoulders.

“It wasn’t good.”

His eyebrows shoot to his hairline in disbelief. “It wasn’t good? I beg to differ, it was fucking great. So good that the only reason I didn’t chase after you was because I figured you needed space. Otherwise, I probably would have fucked your mouth with my tongue all night long.” His voice is low, seductive, so incredibly sexy that I can feel my spine start to shiver just from his words.