 
# Break You

### A Coldcreek Novel ~ Book One

## Jennifer Snyder
BREAK YOU

A COLDCREEK NOVEL

Copyright © 2013 by Jennifer Snyder

Cover design created by Once Upon A Time Covers

Cover model photography by Kelsey Keeton/K. Keeton Designs

Cover models: Justin Schrock and Cameo Hopper

Editing by Red Road Editing/Kristina Circelli

All Rights Reserved.

Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the above author of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

### Contents

Sign Up!

Prologue

1. Blaire

2. Jason

3. Blaire

4. Jason

5. Blaire

6. Jason

7. Blaire

8. Jason

9. Blaire

10. Jason

11. Blaire

12. Jason

13. Blaire

14. Jason

15. Blaire

16. Jason

17. Blaire

18. Jason

19. Blaire

20. Jason

21. Blaire

22. Jason

23. Blaire

24. Jason

25. Blaire

26. Jason

27. Blaire

28. Jason

29. Blaire

30. Jason

31. Blaire

32. Jason

33. Blaire

34. Jason

35. Blaire

36. Jason

37. Blaire

38. Jason

39. Blaire

40. Jason

41. Blaire

42. Jason

43. Blaire

44. Jason

45. Blaire

46. Jason

Thank You

Control You

Acknowledgments

About the Author
_To anyone who has ever had a moment in life break them..._

# Sign Up!

If you would like to be included on Jennifer's mailing list to be the first to receive new release info, sale announcements, info on giveaways and more, click here or go to Jennifer Snyder's website.

# Prologue

There's only one question that plagues our fragile minds when we are forced to face the unthinkable, one question that never allows for any answers to suffice or even an ounce of comfort to be felt in some situations. It's the question we tend to ask ourselves most when we can't seem to wrap our heads around the circumstances that have been tossed our way unexpectedly.

And that crippling question is: Why?

That one, three-lettered word holds more power over our minds than any person could guess. When asked in the right context and combined with a precise situation, that simple question can hold disastrous consequences that could end a person in the worst of ways.

The question itself is essentially unavoidable. It will pass through your ears countless times in a year. It will flow from your lips in multiple tones for various reasons in a lifetime. And then there are those moments in life in which that tiny question will hold within it all the power to break you.

This story comes from one of those moments...a moment when that all-consuming question becomes the only feasible thought possible.

## Chapter 1

# Blaire

"You're not sick," Paige grumbled from where she stood at the doorway to my room. "You just need to come out of this sterile place you call a bedroom and have some damn fun."

The urge to chuck my pillow at her as hard as I could raged through me in a nearly overpowering rush. What didn't she understand about the word no?

"I have to study and I feel like shit," I said. The pillow I'd been holding over my head for the last few minutes was removed, but not by my hand. Somehow Paige managed to make it across the room and to the side of my bed without me noticing. Maybe it was due to the fact that my nose was still so stuffed up the muffle of my breathing was all I could hear. "Seriously, Paige! I feel like dog shit right now. Dog shit that was ran over. Twice."

A chuckle escaped her and she moved to sit at the edge of my bed, unfazed by my outburst of melodrama at the situation.

"Then a night out is exactly what you need," she insisted. "A chance to give your pretty little mind a freaking break. What good is all of this studying? You're burning yourself out before finals. You're just going to be exhausted and sleep deprived from it all."

I scrunched my eyes up and glared at her. Her face was serious, but she obviously wasn't paying attention to what she was saying. "Are you kidding me right now? You're not even making any sense."

She cocked her head to the side. "Yes I am."

A smile twitched at the corners of my mouth, because she was clearly repeating what she'd just said to me in her mind, struggling to figure out if it made sense.

"No, it didn't. You're trying to persuade me into going to that stupid party with you instead of studying, because you think I'm cramming too heavily for finals and need a break. Won't partying all night with you cause me to be more sleep deprived than studying would?"

She flipped her dark hair over her shoulder. "Nope."

I laughed at her simplistic answer, which sent her into even more of a fit.

"All three of us are going out tonight, all right? Even if I have to drug your ass up with some Nyquil and you sleep right though all the fun, you're still getting out of this damn bedroom and away from these papers and books." She ruffled up my notebook papers and flipped my textbook over, making me lose my place.

"I can't breathe through my nose and I'm pretty sure my voice sounds like I've been a chain smoker my entire life, because of my sore throat." I attempted to fix the papers she'd messed up and flipped my book back over. "I'm not going out with you and Lauren tonight."

"Please," she pouted. I knew if I glanced her way there would be big brown puppy eyes pleading with me and a fat bottom lip poking out. "Pretty please, Blaire, just this once. You know I just broke up with Karl and could really use a girls' night."

She was pathetic when she pulled the puppy-dog look—pathetic, but undeniable, and she knew it. After all, like she'd said, she had just broken up with Karl. In spite of her being the one to do the dumping, I still felt bad for her. Karl had been sleeping with someone behind her back. Which would have been bad enough all on its own, but add in the fact Paige had caught him red-handed, and it made a bad situation that much worse.

"Oh my God, fine." I slammed my book closed and tossed it to the side. "I'll go out with you guys, _but_ I'm not staying out past twelve or getting sloshed. Understood?"

Paige's face lit up. "Understood. Now take a shower and some Sudafed and meet me in the living room in an hour. I'll text Lauren." She scrambled out of my room, her silky, dark hair bouncing across her shoulders as she went.

Paige Jacobs and I had known each other since our freshman year of high school. For whatever reason, we'd never hung out before then, even though we'd attended the same schools throughout our childhood. It wasn't until we were crammed in Spanish class together that we realized we had two things in common. One, we both had only taken Spanish because we'd been forced to. Every student had to take at least one year of a foreign language. And two, we both had the hots for Ben Howard, a senior who didn't know we existed.

"Lauren will be here in about forty. She said she'd be D.D. tonight. You know what that means?" Paige shouted in a singsong voice from somewhere in the apartment we shared.

Lauren Myers was the one who topped off our Three Musketeers trio. Paige and I met Lauren on the first day of our freshman year at Norhurst University. The three of us had been standing in the cafeteria, staring at the lasagna as though we were waiting for it to move. Lauren had made some hilarious statement about how she'd always dreamed of two things when she thought about what college would be like—one, that the boys would be hotter and in more ample supply; two, that the cafeteria food wouldn't give her the shits. Then she added something about how getting one out of two wasn't horrible. Paige and I had died laughing and a lifelong friendship had been born.

"No, what?" I asked, unsure if I really wanted to know.

"You have no excuse to not drink with me!"

I rolled my eyes. "Already said I wasn't getting sloshed tonight,"

Paige peeked her head into my room. "I didn't say sloshed...I said to drink with me. What, has it been so long since you've been out drinking that you've become a little lightweight again?" she teased.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, it has. I've been working my ass off lately between Cross Meadows and school, unlike some..." I raised an eyebrow at her, insinuating my point further.

An exaggerated expression of hurt stretched across her face. "Blaire, you know just as well as I do that I work as hard as you. I might not work as much, but I do work just as hard."

I placed a hand on my hip and glared at her. "Really? That's what you're going with?"

"You have to admit I'm right." She laughed.

I pursed my lips together. Paige hadn't held a steady job for as long as I'd known her. Most would question why I'd decided to share an apartment with someone who was so irresponsible and careless when it came to things such as bills. My answer: Paige was my best friend and she had never let me down once in the length of our friendship. She always came through regardless.

Friendship was reason number one. Money was reason number two. Paige's parents were loaded. All she had to do was make a phone call home to Daddy and the money was in her account the next day. Problem solved.

If you asked me, it was a lazy way to parent. It seemed to me that parents should raise their children to stand on their own two feet...which didn't include bailing them out with their own money every time their child was in a jam. Then again, maybe that was just my non-loaded, poor parents upraising.

Reaching for a tissue from my nightstand, I blew my nose and then tossed it at her.

"Eww!" she shrieked.

I chuckled. "Go get ready, you always take longer than I do."

In thirty-five minutes I was showered and standing in front of the mirror in my bathroom, straightening my hair. One piece continued to flip in the wrong direction no matter how many times I ran my scorching-hot straightener over it. Giving up, I secured the piece in place with a bobby pin and called it good. My nose was sore and raw, and my eyes had massive dark circles underneath, but after a few coats of concealer any trace of those telltale sick signs disappeared and I sent a silent thank you up to the makeup gods. If I was being forced into a girls' night out feeling like crap, then I at least didn't want to look like I felt.

A knock sounded at the front door. Neither Paige nor I rushed to answer it, because we knew it was just Lauren and she'd let herself in anyway.

"You guys?" Lauren shouted down the hall.

"Back here," I answered her. Paige must have been too occupied primping to speak.

"Hey," Lauren said. She wore a short, multicolored dress with a thick black belt cutting it in half and a pair of cute purple heels. The entire outfit would look horrendous on me, but she managed to pull it off effortlessly. As always. "I'm surprised you agreed to come out with us."

I reapplied another layer of black eyeliner and frowned at her. "You guys act like I never do anything fun."

"Well, since you took that CNA job at Cross Meadows you kind of don't," she insisted.

Had it come from anyone else I would have been offended, but since it came from Lauren, and I knew she wasn't saying it out of hate but merely sincerity, I let it slide. Sighing at my refection, I shifted my eyes in the mirror to her.

"I know." I pursed my lips together for a moment. "I haven't been doing much of anything besides working and studying lately."

Unwrapping another throat lozenge, I popped it in my mouth and attempted to think back to the last time I went out with the girls. Paige's birthday, nearly two months ago, was the only time that came to mind. I'd really let myself become a hermit. Paige walked into my room. The ends of her hair had been curled into little ringlets, and she only had one eye made up.

"I thought I heard you," Paige said to Lauren. She pointed at her with her mascara wand. "I need your help choosing which dress matches the shoes I want to wear tonight." She led Lauren back to her room.

"And you couldn't have asked me?" I shouted after them.

"You'd tell me to pick a different pair of shoes, because you'd think they were uglier than sin," Paige yelled in reply.

My nose scrunched up. What? Why would she think I'd say something like that? I started down the hall after them to check these shoes out for myself. I paused at the door to Paige's room. Dear Lord, she really needed to clean. I tried not to be anal when it came to housework, but Jesus, my little niece kept her room cleaner than this and she was three!

The black-and-white, zebra-striped comforter and bright pink sheets were crumpled up at the foot of her bed in a heap. There were clothes of every color slung all over her bed, making it look like her closet threw up. Soda cans, lotions, and perfume bottles lined the top of her dresser. Nail polishes and hair ties littered her nightstand. Magazines along with dirty laundry covered the hardwood floor.

Paige and Lauren stood in the center of the mess. In nothing besides her bra, panties, and a pair of the ugliest shoes I'd ever seen, Paige held up one dress to herself after another as Lauren scrunched her face in disapproval at them all.

"Those are the shoes you're wearing?" I asked, taking them in once more. They were some kind of crazy print with tones of seafoam green, purple, and gold. She was right. I thought they were hideous.

"You don't like them. I can tell by looking at your face," Paige laughed. "I knew you wouldn't, that's why I didn't bother asking you which dress would go with them."

Switching the lozenge from my right cheek to my left, I glanced down at them again. "You actually paid money for those things?"

"Yeah, I did," Paige scoffed.

"You could have saved yourself a crapload of money by buying a white pair and giving Tinley some finger paints."

Lauren burst into laughter. "I don't know which is funnier to me right now—the thought of little Tinley decorating a pair of shoes for you, Paige, or the look on your face."

Paige planted her hands on her hips and glared at us both, which made me think she looked even more ridiculous.

"Whatever." She stalked off into her closet with a dress the same shade of seafoam green as on her shoes.

## Chapter 2

# Jason

Nine o'clock on a Saturday night and I had just finished packing up the last of my grandfather's things. This was what Coldcreek did to a person. It sucked them in and drained all the fun right out of them. I hated being back here, but there were things I needed to deal with that were more important than what I wanted for myself right now.

Like Gramps, he was one of those things... He was important.

Placing the last box I'd duct-taped shut on top of the others stacked neatly in the living room, I massaged my lower back and glanced around. I'd managed to box up my grandparents' entire house in two days' time. That had to be some sort of a record.

My cell went off from in my back pocket. I glanced at the screen and smirked. "Matt, man, what's up?" I answered, proud of my happy tone.

Just because I was dealing with some depressing shit didn't mean I needed to act all miserable around others. Suck it up—that was my grandfather's motto. Too bad his own piece of advice didn't apply to his current situation. There was no way to suck it up with what he was dealing with.

"Not much, man. Just wanted to see what you were up to. I know you've been busy since you've been back, but think you wanna take a break and hit up a party at Norhurst?"

His voice was firm, but I could hear the uncertainty in his words. They were laced with it—that and sympathy. That pissed me off. I didn't want sympathy, didn't _do_ sympathy. That's why I ran last time I was in a similar situation.

"Yeah, sure. I'll come," I said, playing it off more than cool. "Let me head back to my mom's place and shower first."

"Awesome. I'll head there in about thirty to pick you up," Matt said.

There was a level of relief etched into his words. I could feel the same thing trickle through my system. Honestly, after the last two days I'd had, a night out might do me some good.

True to his word, Matt was at my mom's door in thirty minutes and we were headed toward Norhurst with some crazy techno song I'd never heard before blaring out of his speakers. I rolled my window down a little more, already feeling a headache coming on.

"Since when did you start listening to this shit?" I asked, unable to bite my tongue any longer.

"This _shit_ ," Matt said, "is fucking awesome. Listen to that beat, man." His hands drummed against the steering wheel in perfect sync with the bass as it crashed through the speakers. I cracked a grin at him and chuckled. The Matt Daniels I'd known back in high school would have never listened to this type of music.

This was proof that the old saying about time changing people was true.

"So what are you, like a raver now or something?" I asked.

Matt turned the radio up a notch. His head and body began moving with the beat even harder as he thrashed against the steering wheel, looking more like someone with Tourettes than someone dancing to a beat while driving.

"Some nights...but not tonight," he answered with a smirk. "Tonight is all about drinking."

"I can get down with that."

Gripping the oh-shit handle as Matt rounded a corner a little faster than he should, I laughed and decided I'd allow myself this one night of fun. One night before I had to head back to Tennessee and take my dreaded finals and then return to Coldcreek for an undetermined length of time for a crash course in reality.

We turned down a street slammed with cars parked on either side and people walking in all directions. It was a little narrow in a few places for my liking, which made me glad I wasn't the one driving.

"Jesus, I'm glad I got the radiator fixed before this fucking party," Matt said. He turned down the music and I knew he was tense. "My fucking car would have overheated by now for sure otherwise, because of this freaking slow-ass pace."

I didn't say anything. Instead, I kept my eyes trained out my window. Norhurst University was a nice place. I hadn't been here since I was a high schooler crashing college parties. That seemed like forever ago. But if old Gramps hung on longer than we all thought he would, me enrolling here might become a reality in the fall.

A group of girls staggering down the road caught my eye. The one on the far end had the right side of her tube top slid down just enough to show the beginnings of her little pink nipple. She was completely plastered, I knew this, but it didn't stop me from staring. Her friend in the middle rolled her ankle in her super high heels and fell flat on her face. The short skirt she wore flipped up, giving me and Matt a front-row seat to view her lacy black thong as we drove past. Matt catcalled out my window at her and I grinned.

If I did have to enroll here in the fall, and Norhurst was going to be like _this_ every weekend, then I figured I'd manage just fine.

Matt slung his Camaro into a spot and cut the engine. Rolling up my window, I opened my door and stepped out into the night air. There was a slight breeze, but it did nothing to lessen the humidity in the air. At this rate it was going to be one fucking hot summer.

"Lock it," Matt instructed. He rounded the car, rubbing the palms of his hands together. A shit-eating grin plastered itself on his face.

"I did," I said.

We started through the crammed parking lot and I glanced at the cluster of brick apartments ahead. It looked like there was a party going on in just about all of them. Everyone seemed to be in need of releasing some pre-finals tension.

"Which building are we headed to?" I asked Matt after we bypassed a few with some lovely ladies standing outside.

"Two more down," Matt said. "It's my buddy Roy's place. You remember Roy Archer?"

Two more buildings down? Jesus, I hadn't known we'd be walking a freaking mile to get there. Talk about taking the first parking space available.

"Roy Archer? Tall, lanky guy?" I asked, not sure I was thinking of the right guy.

"Yeah, always looked like he was stoned, even though he swore he never smoked."

I laughed. "I remember him."

"It's his party and it's supposed to be kick-ass."

Comparing my version of kick-ass to what Matt's might be, I prayed they were the same. Or at least somewhat similar.

"This is the one," Matt said as we neared a building that couldn't be packed with anymore people. "All right!"

Matt began to bob his head with the music that blared out of the apartment and flowed to the sidewalk where we were. I weaved my way through the maze of people standing around talking, following Matt inside while hoping he was heading straight for the alcohol. The music mixed with the sounds of people shouting the word "Chug" repeatedly the farther inside we made it. The first thing I noticed as we stepped into the tiny, white-walled living room was the keg sitting smack in the center. Some scrawny-looking guy without a shirt on was doing a keg stand. This was why everyone was chanting.

"Damn, that little guy can chug," I said to Matt in awe.

"That's Roy and he sure as shit can."

When Roy finally flipped off the keg, his face was beet red and he looked slightly dizzy, but he regained his composure quickly. The room burst into hoots and hollers. Roy took a bow and grinned like a motherfucker, enjoying his twenty seconds of fame. Random people held twenties out to him and he collected them all with a smirk.

"What's up, man," Matt shouted as he walked to Roy's side.

I looked Roy over, thinking he hadn't changed a bit since high school. He still looked as though he'd just finished smoking a doobie.

"Cashin' in, brother," Roy said over the music. "What's up?"

"Nothin' much, just brought my boy here who's in town for a minute to have a little fun before he has to head back home tomorrow," Matt replied. "You remember Jason, right?"

Roy looked at me and nodded in recognition. "Yeah. Bryant, right?"

"That's me," I said. Introductions were always awkward, even if I'd already met the guy three years ago in high school.

Matt cut in front of some short, pudgy girl with a side ponytail and grabbed a red plastic cup. He cocked it to the side and filled it up with frothy goodness. Passing it to me, he grabbed up another for himself. The girl behind him merely scowled, but didn't protest.

Putting the cup to my lips, I took a long guzzle while scanning around the crowded apartment. There wasn't much to look at; the place was tiny. A group of girls standing in the kitchen caught my eye. The one in the green dress had a bangin' body and one of those cute little faces that hinted at innocence. I swore she looked familiar, but I couldn't place her. Matt said something then, but I didn't catch it.

"What'd you say?" I asked, taking another swig of my drink.

"I asked you if you wanted to smoke?" He held a joint between his fingers out to me.

"Nah, man. I'm cool for right now."

I didn't care for weed. Never had. Seeing Matt toke up made me think of just how much he'd changed over the last three years. He'd always been a drinker, known to pop a pill or two here and there, but never a stoner. Matt passed the joint to some girl with blue streaks in her hair who was now hanging on him and exhaled.

"You sure?" he asked me again.

"Yeah."

I shifted my gaze back to the cluster of three girls standing in the tiny kitchen. Some douchebag guy now stood with them. The girl who I'd thought looked familiar was hanging on his every word and I wondered if they were a couple or if she was just reeling him in for a one-night stand. I stood there, watching her and thinking she was just the type of girl I needed right now—innocent face with a tad of kinkiness shining through her eyes. She leaned to her right and onto her friend's shoulder while laughing hysterically at whatever the douche she stood with had said, and then there she was. The girl I'd always thought of as an unobtainable pass in high school—Blaire Hayes.

## Chapter 3

# Blaire

My throat was scratchy. I wished I'd brought another throat lozenge with me, but Paige had said my clutch purse didn't go with my dress and that there was no point in even bringing it. Reluctantly, I'd listened to her and now I wished I hadn't. Maybe I should have worn something with pockets.

"Yeah, it was a wild weekend," Craig Owen said. He was trying a little too hard for my taste to seem cool, but Paige was eating it up. "You lovely ladies should come with me some time."

"Tubing could be fun," Paige said. She batted her heavily coated eyelashes and flashed him a sexy grin.

Horrible. This guy was a douche, couldn't she see that? I took a long sip of my drink to ease my scratchy throat while at the same time to keep me from saying something rude.

"Oh, it's fun and with you there...it would be even funner," Craig said. Funner wasn't even a word. Loser. His eyes trailed down the length of Paige and I knew he was insinuating seeing her in a bikini would be fun. "We tether a few extra tubes to some of ours and let the coolers crammed with tasty beverages float along with us."

"I need to use the restroom. Blaire, will you come with me?" Lauren asked. She didn't wait for me to answer. Instead, she tugged on my arm and pulled me into the narrow hallway with her. "Wipe that bitchy look off your face," she scolded me as we pushed our way toward the bathroom.

"Bitchy look?"

"Yeah, bitchy look. Paige looks like she's having a good time," Lauren said. "Be happy for her and try to have a good time too."

"I am having a good time. See, this is me having a good time." I took a swig of my drink and smiled. "And I am happy Paige is having fun. I just think Craig seems sort of conceited and dim-witted. She always goes for the asshats and then wonders why they treat her like shit. This guy seems like one-night stand material, like he makes it his life goal to rack up as many as he can or something."

We continued down the constricted hall in search of a bathroom. I was pretty sure it would be the door around the little corner at the end.

"Maybe, but that's exactly what she needs after Karl... A sexy as shit, conceited, one-night stand." Lauren smirked.

"I guess." I rolled my eyes.

Lauren slipped into the bathroom while I waited in the hall. Taking another sip of my drink, I pulled open the bi-fold closet door to my right and peeked inside. I was sure all that was behind it was a mildew-scented washer and dryer set, but even so, I was curious. These apartments were a little on the small side, but the appliances in the kitchen had looked brand new as well as the countertops, and I found myself wondering if the washer and dryer would be too. There was a nice front-loading set gleaming at me in the dim light of the hallway. I scrunched up my face, wishing our apartment had come with a set like that.

"Blaire, what are you doing?" Lauren asked slowly from behind me.

I spun, startled, and busted my elbow on the closet door. Lauren was looking at me like I was nuts.

"Jesus, you scared me." I pressed my hand to my chest. "I didn't even hear the bathroom door open."

She laughed. "What were you doing? Scoping out their dirty laundry?"

"No." I took another sip of my beer and looped my arm through hers. "Come on. Let's make sure Paige hasn't started dry humping the conceited cutie's leg yet."

* * *

When we made it back to the tiny kitchen, Paige was standing right where we'd left her. I knew she wasn't plastered yet, but she was halfway there. She'd without doubt had more to drink than me and it was becoming noticeable in the tone of her laugh and the little slur entering her words. I finished the last of the warm beer in the bottom of my cup.

"I'm gonna get another." I held up my cup. "Anyone need another one too?"

Susan Baron—who I knew from my Intro to Health Concepts class during my first year of college—held out her cup to me, pausing in her conversation for only a brief moment.

"Me, thanks!" she said. She was talking with Lauren about how gross old men balls were.

She'd just started interning at a nursing home in the next town over. While I had seen my fair share of old men balls at Cross Meadows—and yes, I could attest it was a pretty gross sight—there was no way in hell I was going to sit here and snicker about it with her. It wasn't like the old men could help it, nor was it their finest moment—having a young girl change their underwear because they couldn't. It had to be freaking humiliating at times.

Maybe this cold I had was putting me in a sourer mood than I'd thought. A party was not the place for me tonight. I should have just stayed home. Thirty more minutes. That's all Paige and Lauren were getting out of me. After thirty minutes, I was pressing for them to take me home.

"Sure," I said, taking Susan's cup. "No problem."

Weaving through the small kitchen, I made my way to the keg in the center of the living room. The heavy scent of marijuana floated to my nose and I knew that Roy or Matt or one of their pothead goony friends had lit up another joint somewhere. Part of me prayed I'd get a contact buzz while the other part worried I'd fail the next random drug test at work from just smelling it.

Waiting in line at the keg, I stood behind some guy with a black baseball cap on backwards. I glanced around him to see the couple in front of him attempt to pour themselves another drink. The girl wore a tight-fitting polka-dot sundress and a pair of brown cowboy boots. The guy wore a low-hung pair of blue jeans and a red plaid shirt. They were the perfect country-looking couple. I smiled while watching them flirt as they filled their cups.

"Come on," baseball cap guy in front of me yelled at them. "Get your fucking drinks already."

"Sorry, man," the country guy smirked. He stopped messing around and filled their cups, then moved out of the way. "There you go,"

Baseball Cap muttered something and shouldered his way past country boy; obviously he wasn't a nice drunk. Gotta love the idiots like that. Banging the two cups I held together lightly while I waited for my turn at the keg, I glanced around the apartment. Lauren was still talking with Susan, and some guy with red hair and loads of freckles was trying to gain her attention beside her. I smirked. Poor guy. Little did he know, Lauren was so completely turned off by redheaded guys it wasn't even funny. My eyes shifted to Paige. She and Craig were hitting it off really well still. Figures, her rebound guy would be the only cocky ass at the party.

"You gonna be able to handle this?" Baseball Cap asked me, still holding the tap firmly.

"Uh, yeah," I said. I hadn't intended for my words to come out so clipped and sarcastic, but they had. "Thanks."

"Suit yourself," he said as he handed me the tap and walked off.

Sighing, I struggled to keep hold of the two cups in my hand and maneuver the tap to fill one. Tipping the cup to the side, I gripped the tap a little more lightly, hoping the beer would flow out slowly. It didn't. Instead, it sprayed against the inside of the cup and splashed all over the front of my dress.

Awesome.

"Need some help?" someone chuckled from behind me.

"I guess so," I said, still in shock that I'd just managed to soak myself with alcohol and I wasn't even smashed yet.

This was more affirmation that I did not need to be here right now. I needed to be at home, suffering with my scratchy throat and stuffy nose in private, while I crammed some more for finals. I spun around to thank whoever had offered and hand him Susan's cup. My heart stopped. It was Jason Bryant.

What was he doing here? He was supposed to be going to school in Tennessee. How I knew this wasn't important; what was important was that he was here. Right now. Standing in front of me. While I was covered in beer that I'd sprayed on myself and he'd obviously witnessed.

"Thanks," I said. My voice sounded strange, strangled even. I cleared my throat. "Apparently I'm not as talented as I thought I was with a tap."

Lame. That was so freaking lame.

His blue eyes locked on mine. Amusement swirled within them. God, he still looked exactly the same as when we were in high school. I'd learned over the last three years that some guys I'd found attractive while in high school had hit their prime in the looks department back then and it had gone downhill since, but Jason, he was nowhere near that category. Was it crazy to think that he looked even better?

"Here, let me take one," he offered, reaching for a cup. I released one to him. "So, what's Blaire Hayes doing in a place like this?"

He remembered my name. I swallowed hard. My throat had suddenly gotten scratchier and drier than before. "Same as you, I guess," I said, proud my voice sounded somewhat normal.

His eyes flicked from the keg to mine again. "Figured you'd be locked away studying until your eyes popped out."

"Actually that was my plan for the night, but my friends talked me into doing otherwise." What was I thinking? He didn't need to know that about me right away, that I was still a stick in the mud.

"Some people never change." Jason smiled. He handed me a cup back, filled to the rim, and took the other one from my fingers while I wondered if what he'd said was a good thing. He'd said it like it was. "I'm glad those friends of yours talked you into coming."

I smiled. "Oh, yeah? And why is that?"

I was flirting. I was flirting with freaking _Jason Bryant_.

This was the guy I'd been madly in love with all through high school. The guy who, in our sophomore year, had made a complete idiot of me and I _still_ managed to think he was hot after. Back then, when it came to Jason Bryant, I was a goner... Apparently that was true even now. Three years after high school graduation.

Jason handed me my other beer and his smile widened. "Because, it's nice to run into a gorgeous familiar face every now and then."

Only two words stuck out to me. Gorgeous and face. Dear God, I needed to get a grip on myself. I took a sip of the beer he'd just handed me while watching him as he refilled his own cup. His dark hair was tousled and his face was covered with a slight amount of stubble. He wore a pair of blue jeans and a plain baby blue T-shirt that matched the color of his eyes and accentuated his toned, sculpted upper body in all the right ways.

Jason stood and put the rim of his cup to his lips. There was a hint of a smile twisting at the corners before he took a sip. "What?" he asked.

"Huh? Nothing," I said. My cheeks heated. He'd obviously caught me checking him out.

Should I walk away? The moment had become awkward now.

"Okay," he dragged the word out. "So, you live here now or are you still in Coldcreek?"

"Here," I said.

"Are you a student?"

"Yeah."

My stomach flipped and tied itself into knots. He was trying to start up a conversation; I knew this, but I still could only manage to give him one-word answers. I took another sip of my drink, hoping it would be that magic sip number of the night and make my lips a little looser. I needed to relax.

"And what are you majoring in?" he tried again.

"I'm going for my RN license. This is my second year. Actually, finals are next week, which was why I wanted to stay home and study."

Jason nodded like he approved of my major. "That's awesome. You were always a sweetheart in school, figures you'd do something like nursing."

Sweetheart in school? He'd thought I was a sweetheart? Then why had he led me on and made me look like an idiot?

"Right," I said. "Well, it's nice to know what you thought of me."

Why on Earth had I said that?

He raised an eyebrow and took another sip of his beer. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing really." I shook my head. Damn it, I'd botched this attempt, though at what I wasn't sure. But I'd just botched it. "I just mean that...you didn't seem like you thought I was a sweetheart in school. You only talked to me a few times and when you did, you practically led me on and then went after my friend."

"What?" he balked. "I did not."

I smiled, but it wasn't a happy smile. It was laced with bitchiness. Seriously, that was what he was going with? Denial? Taking another little sip of my drink to calm my throat once more, I decided I was going to finally get this off my chest.

It was time to enlighten Jason Bryant.

## Chapter 4

# Jason

Honestly, I didn't remember doing anything to lead her on. From the bitchy gleam entering her big blue eyes right now, I knew she was about to tell me the exact moment with vivid detail. The only thing I cared about was that she was still here talking to me.

"Darcie Bell," she said as though the name should mean something.

It did. I'd dated the girl for a while in tenth grade. In fact, I'd taken her virginity. But I wasn't about to tell Blaire that. She was obviously heated about something from then involving her, me, and Darcie and I intended to keep her talking until I found out more about it. Then I could fix it, whatever it was, and finally get a taste of Blaire Hayes.

"Darcie Bell," I said, dragging her name out purposely. "I remember her. We dated for a while."

Blaire's eyes heated. "Yeah, you did. She was one of my closest friends. Do you remember _how_ you two started dating?"

I took another swig from my beer while thinking back. And then it hit me. Oh, shit. We'd started dating because I'd used Blaire to get to Darcie. Well, tonight wasn't going to end the way I'd hoped. Blaire was getting ready to tell me to fuck off at any moment. And here I'd thought she was swooning after me while I filled her cups a moment ago. Speaking of, who was the second cup for? Surely some dick hadn't sent her to refill it for him.

"You introduced us," I said. I flashed her my most charming smile, the one I'd trained myself to use for moments like this. "See, that's what I meant when I said you were a sweetheart."

She tucked a strand of her short brown hair behind her ear and dropped her eyes to the carpeted floor beneath her heels. She noticeably took in a deep breath before bringing her eyes back up to meet with mine.

"Yeah, that's not exactly how I remember it," she said with a little snap to her words.

The smirk that twisted my lips right then couldn't be helped. A lot of guys used the line of "Damn you look sexy when you're mad." Hell, I was positive that I'd even used it myself a time or two, just to make a girl smile instead of glare at me all pissed off. Never had I ever witnessed a girl that I actually _thought_ looked cute as fuck when mad... That is, until right now.

Taking another swig of my beer to hide the smirk, I pulled my eyes from her and then slowly let them drift back. This was my way of pretending that I still didn't know where she was going with this.

"How do you remember it then?" I asked over the music.

That was one thing I hated about parties—the loud music. I only ever noticed this when I was trying to hold a conversation with someone though. Right now, all I wanted to do was talk with Blaire. I started walking, still making eye contact with her so she would follow. She did. Soon I'd be able to hear her sexy voice and not have to yell over the music to be heard as well.

We were standing outside the little apartment in a second. The cool night air felt refreshing and the loudness of the party was left behind. There were others standing outside, smoking cigarettes and sitting on the banisters, lost in conversations of their own, but there was enough space between us and them to feel a sense of privacy.

"I remember having English class with you," she said. She sat both of the drinks she held down on the banister in front of her. Guess whoever the other drink was for wasn't important to her anymore. "I remember having the biggest crush on you."

She'd had a crush on me? How had that slipped by me?

"Really?" The tone of my voice sounded a little more shocked than I wanted it to be right now. Truth was...that little tidbit had floored me.

Blaire shifted her gaze to one of the beers she'd sat down and I noticed her cheeks tint to a light shade of pink. "Really. The day you asked me if you could walk with me to the science building was one of the best days of my life. You even held my books for me."

She smiled at the memory and I instantly began to feel like shit. I knew where this story was going. It wasn't headed in a direction I was proud of. In my defense though, I'd never thought Blaire was even the tiniest bit into me.

"I did do that, didn't I?" I laughed, hoping it would lighten the mood a bit.

From the way her arms crossed over her chest, I realized the mood had not been lightened. It had instead headed further south quickly.

"Yup, you did. And then you led me on by letting me believe you had a thing for me and instead went after my friend Darcie, who used to meet me in front of the main building bathroom so we could walk to science class together," she said.

Even though it was years ago that this happened, I could see the moment had become fresh in her memory. This was it—my make or break moment. Blaire would either let me apologize for my ways back then and things would be all right between us for the rest of the night, and potentially lead to what I'd wanted upon first seeing her tonight. Or, it was all getting ready to explode in my face and she'd walk away for good.

I pulled in a deep breath before I spoke. "I'm sorry," I said. "I really had no clue you were into me at all. If I had known, then I would have asked you out. You know how it was back then... We were fifteen and ran by our nerves and hormones. Girls intimidated me, still do in fact." I paused and flashed her a little smile. "I never meant to lead you on. I swear." Taking another swig of my beer, I prayed this would be a good enough apology for her.

She flung her hand, waving off my apology, and made this weird duck face. Why did girls always resort to that face? I'd learned over the years it held two meanings: One, they were attempting to look sexy. And two, they were faking not being hurt or pissed by something you'd said.

Shit. She was still pissed.

"It was forever ago," she said. Her blue eyes met with mine. There was no trace of pissiness or hurt within them. Maybe I'd been wrong this time. "Besides, I got over you real quick-like after that."

My chest tightened. Ouch.

"I'd better head back inside. My friend is probably wondering where I went with her cup." She scooped up both beers from the railing. There was a twinkle in her eye I couldn't decipher. "It was nice catching up with you again, Jason."

Damn. What a strikeout. I cleared my throat, hoping to release the building sting of rejection gripping my vocal cords.

"Yeah, nice to run into you again too," I said. She was already halfway through the door though, so I couldn't be sure she'd heard me.

Finishing the last of my beer in two gulps, I hung around outside for a bit longer. Why was I letting Blaire Hayes get to me so badly? It wasn't like I'd never felt the searing sting of rejection before. I guess the thing was, I'd never expected to feel it from her tonight.

Sitting my empty cup down on the banister in front of me, I rubbed my hands over my face, wondering what the fuck I was doing here anyway. Pulling my phone from my back pocket, I checked the time. 12:42 AM. I'd give Matt about twenty more minutes and then I was gonna see if he was ready to call it a night. I sure as hell was.

_I got over you real quick-like after that._

Blaire's words repeated through my mind. Fuck me. That little twinkle had been the sweet sparkle of a long-harbored revenge served cold. I laughed out loud, causing the few people scattered about out here with me to look in my direction in alarm. I didn't care. Let them think what they wanted about me. I'd just figured out Blaire Hayes had played a game with me...and I liked it.

Gripping my empty cup, I started back inside with two goals in mind: One, to find Matt and tell him I was out in twenty and ask for a ride home. And two, to find Blaire and tell her nice serve.

## Chapter 5

# Blaire

The smile on my face was not one I could remove. Normally I wasn't one for games or to do things out of sheer spite, but what had happened outside with Jason Bryant was a long time coming _and_ freaking priceless. The look on his face—it was like my pointed remark had been drilled into him and he'd never felt anything like it before.

Searching the crammed apartment, I spotted Lauren and Susan right where I'd left them. Walking over, I realized the conversation was right where it had left off, too. Awesome, I hadn't missed any jokes Susan made about old men's balls.

"Here's your drink," I said. I held the slightly warm cup out to Susan and hoped it would shut her up. At least for a moment.

Lauren eyed me. "And where have you been? I know the line at the keg wasn't _that_ long."

"Eh, around," I said. I took a sip of my beer and smiled at her.

"Nu-uh." Lauren's brown eyes glimmered with mischief. "Were you flirting with someone? Off making out with someone? Fucking someone in the corner?"

"Oh my God!" I smacked her arm and balked at her. "Hell no!"

"Better tell me, because if you don't my mind will just keep dreaming up things you could have been off doing for nearly thirty minutes. Trust me—a person can do a lot in thirty minutes." She flashed me an impish smile. "As a matter of fact, I think there's a T-shirt that says something like that in the back of my closet."

Susan chuckled and nearly sprayed the warm beer I'd handed her all over. I narrowed my eyes at her. I wasn't a bitchy person, generally speaking, but there were just those people who rubbed me the wrong way and irked me like no other. Susan Baron was one of those people.

"Fine," I said. "Walk with me to the bathroom."

Lauren grinned from ear to ear. "I knew you had something juicy to tell me."

Smiling, I interlocked my arm through hers. "Eh, nothing major."

We weaved our way down the even more crowded hallway, heading toward the bathroom. I really did have to pee, but I also didn't want to be around Susan anymore. Nor did I want her hearing anything I was about to say.

"Enough with the melodrama," Lauren said with an eye roll. "Tell!"

"All right, all right," I said.

In the chunk of time it took for Lauren and me to make it from the kitchen to the bathroom, I'd managed to repeat the entire story of Jason and me to her.

"I know it's immature and dumb," I said as I finished washing my hands at the sink. I scooped up my cup from the counter. Glancing at myself in the mirror, I ran my fingers through my hair, correcting my part, and then wiped my finger beneath my eyes to get rid of a few smudges of eyeliner. "But it felt so good to be able to get him back."

"I'm sure it did." Lauren smiled.

Gripping the knob, I jerked the door open and came face to face with Jason. My heart crashed against my ribcage as our eyes met. I prayed he hadn't been able to hear what we'd been talking about through the door.

"And we meet again." Jason grinned.

My cheeks heated at the sound of his voice. I took another sip of my drink. Hopefully the red tint would be discarded and chalked up as being from the alcohol rushing through my veins.

"I guess so," I said.

Lauren moved to my side. " _We_ haven't met before."

Jason shifted his gaze to her. "No, we haven't. I'm Jason, Jason Bryant."

"Lauren Myers, Blaire's good friend." She elbowed me in the side and I knew exactly what she was thinking without her having to utter a single word. She was thinking how freaking hot Jason was.

"I, uh..." Jason moved to scoot between the two of us and into the bathroom.

There was an awkward shuffling of bodies as the three of us attempted to maneuver around one another in the cramped quarters of the hall, during which Jason's warm hand found its way to my hip. Ripples of pleasure slid through me from the sensation of his skin pressed against mine, settling in my lower stomach and catching it on fire.

"Sorry," he breathed against my ear in apology for having touched me in his passing.

The words It's fine formed in my mind, but never made their way to my lips. His touch had rendered me speechless. There was another awkward moment where we locked eyes again as he started to close the bathroom door.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "Would you rather me leave it open so you can see?"

"What? No!" I fumbled my words. My cheeks heated to a whole new shade of red, one that I was sure would not be written off as being caused by alcohol. "I'm fine...I mean you're fine... I'm—damn it!" I clamped my mouth shut before I could stutter anything else and turned to walk away before I made an even larger idiot of myself. Damn him. It was like sophomore year all over again and my stomach was filled with oversized butterflies in his presence.

"Are you sure?" He leaned against the doorframe and smirked at me. "I'll even let you hold it."

Lauren burst into a fit of laughter beside me and I shifted to glare at her.

"I'm sorry, it's just...your face!" she cried. "I've never seen you look so mortified and shocked!"

Jason winked at me and then closed the door.

I couldn't move. Had he really just asked me that? Seriously? Lauren tossed her arms around me and pulled me into a hug.

"I'm so sorry," she choked out. "He is a freaking riot."

"Right, so are you ready to head out?" I asked, forcing my face into a somewhat normal expression as quickly as I could.

"Uh, sure. If you are." Her laugh died down and her smile faded. "You're not pissed at me for laughing, are you?"

Softening my features, I glanced at her. "No, I'm not mad. I'm just ready to head home. I'm still not feeling too well. My throat is killing me, actually."

"Okay, well... Let's go find Paige then and let her know."

Paige had moved from the kitchen to the keg, but was still standing with the douche from earlier. Had they really been talking the entire time we'd been here? I watched Paige's face light up at something Craig said as Lauren and I made our way to them. She was hooked. That much was clear.

"Hey, Paige," I said. "Are you about ready?"

"Uh." Her eyes flicked to Craig and then back to me and Lauren. "Yeah, sure. If you guys are."

Lauren took a sip of her Pepsi and nodded. "Yeah, I think we are. This party has sort of been a bust—at least for me. All I seemed to attract was one fugly redhead guy who wouldn't take a hint and an overly talkative Susan Baron."

"Me too," I said, even as thoughts of Jason came creeping into my mind. "I mean, about it being a bust."

Lauren flashed me a smirk. "Riiiight," she dragged the word out, causing me to shift my gaze from her to the other side of the room in search of Jason.

"Can I get your number or something?" Craig asked Paige. His voice was low and husky, clearly infused with alcohol.

"Sure," Paige gushed.

Craig reached into his back pocket and handed her his cell. She giggled as they fumbled together with it to enter her number.

"Call me," she said.

I headed to the door, anxious to get some fresh air. Dumping my cup into the trash can conveniently placed beside it, I gripped the cool metal knob and twisted. My feet were killing me. Heels were not invented with a woman's comfort in mind. All I wanted right now was a warm bubble bath and some NyQuil.

"Well, glad somebody's night went well," Lauren commented. She eyed Paige's wide grin. "In fact, looks like both of you two topped me tonight."

"Wait, what?" Paige asked. Her face scrunched up and her eyes darted from me to Lauren rapidly. "What did I miss?"

"Oh, just some guy named Jason Bryant hitting on Blaire hardcore," Lauren said before I could open my mouth.

We started down the few stairs leading to the parking lot and I bit the inside of my cheek. I hadn't planned on mentioning Jason at all to Paige; she knew how much I'd liked him in high school.

"It was nothing...and he didn't even hit on me," I said. My hand came up and made a grand gesture wave that wasn't necessary and in no way made it seem like any less of a big deal in Paige's eyes. "Seriously, all we did was talk. For like fifteen minutes."

Paige moved to get in front of me and placed both her hands on my shoulders in an effort to freeze me in place. "Jason Bryant...from high school? The one who led you on and then exploded your heart?" she asked.

"He led you on and then exploded your heart." Lauren gasped, mocking Paige's dramatic tone perfectly.

Rolling my eyes, I glared at Paige. "Yep, that's the one. And it really wasn't that big of a deal. I actually got to tell him how I felt about that little piece of my high school history. It all worked out."

"Whoa, I missed a lot, didn't I?" she asked. "But, I did get a hot guy's number. My future husband's number to be exact."

Lauren and I laughed at the same time. This would make future husband number five of the year for Paige. Her broken heart was mended; this night hadn't been a bust after all, regardless if I liked her new love interest or not.

## Chapter 6

# Jason

When I exited the bathroom, I was practically trapped in place by a wasted girl who was definitely not Blaire. I'd said everything as nicely as I could while declining her invitation to join her in the bathroom for a little quickie. That just wasn't my style. I happened to love ladies as much as the next guy, but I still had standards and banging some chick who was too drunk to even know her own name in the tiny bathroom of an apartment party was not up to par for me. With Matt, maybe—I didn't seem to know the guy anymore. Too much time had gone by.

"Come on," the wasted girl attempted to coo in my ear. All she managed to do was lose her balance, forcing me to have to catch her before she landed face-first into the closet door. "You know you want to."

"Ah, no, I don't actually." I chuckled to soften my tone for her sake, but the words still meant the same. I wasn't interested. Plain and simple. "I need to go,"

Releasing her, praying she was good to stand on her own, I bolted down the hallway hoping to meet up with Blaire again. I planned on asking her what she was doing next weekend. I knew I'd be back by then to visit with Gramps. Since that wasn't particularly something to look forward to, I'd come up with the idea of including Blaire in that equation to make it better.

I scanned the tiny, jam-packed apartment after weaving my way through the people in the hall, searching for Blaire. She was nowhere to be found. Opening the front door, I examined every female face outside and none of them were hers. Jogging down the stairs and into the parking lot, I finally spotted her. She was standing next to the innocent-faced girl I recognized from someplace but couldn't figure out where and the girl I'd met earlier. I paused and watched, unsure whether or not I should walk over and ask her out.

Then it hit me—the girl I couldn't place was Paige Jacobs, another one of Blaire's best friends in high school. Jesus, didn't anyone leave Coldcreek after high school and not come back? Guess I could be lumped in that category now too, because here I was, standing in the parking lot of some apartments near Norhurst University.

Blaire and Lauren broke out in laughter before all three of them hopped into a silver Dodge Charger. My moment to ask her out had come and gone, all because I'd chosen to stand here like an idiot and stare. Running my hands through my hair, I started back to the party, this time in search of Matt so he could take me home. I was done for the night.

Forty minutes later I was climbing out of Matt's Camaro and making my way inside my mom's house. I told Matt I'd call him tomorrow, but we both knew I wouldn't; tomorrow would be next weekend, when I came back to this shithole of a town after finals.

Gravel crunched beneath the tires of Matt's car as he backed away from the house, attempting to turn around. My boots thudded in my ears as I made my way up the wooden steps to the front door. It was locked, like it should be at this hour of the night. Through the glass panes I noticed the living room light was on and I wondered if it had purposely been left on for me this time or if it was for the same reason as last night.

Fumbling in my pocket for my keys, I peered in through the little squares of glass the door was made of, searching for any signs of similarities to last night. I wasn't able to spot anything right away. Once I found the right key, I attempted to open the door as quietly as I could. It creaked, echoing through the silent house and making me wince. First thing tomorrow I'd have to search for a can of WD-40 and grease the thing.

Kicking off my boots at the door, I tossed my socks on top of them and headed through the smallish kitchen that smelled of burnt lasagna. The Stouffers box was still on the counter, its original contents a charred mess on a pan carelessly left on the stovetop. A grin twisted at my lips. Mom had never been the best cook, but she'd never burned frozen lasagna before.

My smile fell as I noticed the empty bottle of wine on the counter. She'd been drinking again. An ache formed in my chest and I knew exactly what I would find once I rounded the corner into the living room—the same thing from last night. Averting my gaze to the linoleum floor beneath my bare feet, I forced myself forward.

The soft glow of the ceiling fan light gave the room an eerie feel. It spilled over dark hair splayed across the arm of the couch, making it shinier than I knew it was. My heart sank when I made it around to the front and caught the first glimpse of my mother. Sharon Bryant, a woman I used to think of as carefree and overly optimistic, was curled up with a fleece blanket, looking more like a fragile shell of her old self. Her mascara had smeared at some point, leaving smudges beneath her eyes. An empty wineglass rested on the coffee table in front of her, a bag of half-eaten popcorn beside it.

My chest tightened. I took in a deep, pained breath and closed my eyes for a moment. Opening them, I sighed and rubbed my hands over my face. Moving to sit on the end of the coffee table, I stared at her. This was the second night in a row she'd drunk herself to sleep, alone. I wondered how many more had come before these two I'd had the pleasure of witnessing.

I prayed not many.

While struggling to decide what I should do with her—leave her be or attempt to carry her into her room—she shifted in her sleep and muttered my father's name. I decided then to leave her. If she was dreaming about him, I hoped it was a happy dream, because she deserved it. Tearing my eyes from her delicate frame, I made my way out of the living room and toward the hall. My room was the first door on the left.

This wasn't the house I'd grown up in—that house was on the other side of town, being lived in by some family who had no clue that some of my best memories happened within those walls. This house was supposed to be our fresh start, a clean slate on the memory plane. And it was, but it didn't do what my mother had intended it to—it didn't make the pain of losing my father disappear. It didn't even lessen it.

Flipping on the light to my room, I closed the door behind me and stripped down to my boxers. Scooping up my phone from on my dresser, I flopped down across the too-small twin bed from my childhood and tapped on my Facebook app. After scrolling through everyone's new status updates, commenting on a few and liking others when I didn't know what to say, I tapped on "search" and found myself typing in Blaire's name. There were about twelve hundred Blaire Hayes to scroll through.

When I finally found her, I tapped on her name to view her profile, praying she wasn't one of those people who were on Facebook but attempted to make themselves crazy private so people couldn't learn a damn thing about them. When the page refreshed, I realized she was not necessarily one of those people. While there were things hidden for only friends to view, there was still a crap ton available for me to skim through.

I scrolled through her recent posts first, lured in by a picture of her she'd recently put up. It was from nearly eleven days ago, which I liked. It meant that she wasn't a Facebook junkie. She had a life other than the Internet. The picture was taken by someone else and it was of her, Lauren, and Paige. She was standing in the middle, dressed in a sundress of sorts. She looked hot as hell with her slight tan, dark hair, and big blue eyes.

After that photo there were a few shares of smoothie recipes and some funny pics she'd found online. It was the throwback Thursday photos she'd posted of herself and Paige that truly made me laugh, though.

I tapped on her "About" section next, ready to learn some interesting tidbits about this girl who was consuming my mind to the point of Facebook stalking. The very first thing I saw caught me completely off-guard: she worked at Cross Meadows—the same nursing home Gramps had moved into a few days ago. The thought of Blaire working there made my mind a little more at ease with Mom's decision to put him there. Maybe it wasn't a place where he would be malnourished and mistreated after all. Couldn't be, not if Blaire worked there.

After I got over the initial shock of that, I moved down the list. She was a student at Norhurst University. She was from Coldcreek. Yada yada. Then came her photos and boy were they captivating.

Blaire wasn't the type to make crazy duck faces into a camera and take conceited pictures of herself in the bathroom mirror, she was the type who took pictures of shit that mattered to her. There were pictures of everything from fireworks the previous year to a rug she'd bought at some point for in front of her place that said "Got Dirt?" It was the pictures of her with a dirty blonde-haired little girl that stuck out to me the most. The caption underneath them said "Tinley" and nothing more. My heart pounded in my chest at the thought of her having a kid. And then I scrolled down some and read a caption that said "Cutest niece in the world."

Relief trickled through me at a dizzying pace.

My Internet froze and I wasn't able to view any more of her photos; what I'd seen had been enough though. I had to find a way to make Blaire go out with me when I came back. I sent her a friend request once my Internet decided to work again and got offline. Turning my phone off, I set it on my rickety nightstand and crossed the room to flip the light switch. Climbing back into bed, I spread out as much as the bed allowed me to and drifted off to sleep, wondering if she'd accept the request I'd sent.

## Chapter 7

# Blaire

The little box titled "Friend Requests" glared at me from the screen of my cell phone. I wasn't sure how long I'd stared at it with Jason's picture inside and his name in blue letters, but I was sure I'd surpassed the timeframe of a sane person long ago. Why was this such a big deal? It was Facebook for crying out loud. The people who were your "Friends" were never actually your friends in real life, it was just a way to keep tabs on people's lives from a distance without looking like a stalker, right?

Guys didn't think of it that way though, did they?

Jason had probably sent the request because he wanted to add another person from high school he'd forgotten about until tonight. Jesus, why was I analyzing his request like some lunatic? Maybe this was the clue that I needed to get out more—that and to loosen up some.

Letting out a loud breath, I tapped on his name and waited for my spotty Internet to catch up. Sometimes it worked and others it didn't—it was virtually unpredictable. Popping open a tiny can of V8 Fusion, I took a sip while continuing to wait for the page to load. When it did, I read through all of his status updates. He was a funny one—commenting on loads of posts from others and reposting funny pictures. His latest repost was of two model-pretty girls standing side by side in spandex cheerleader shorts with their asses poking out at the cameraman. In the bottom there was a caption that read: What, don't you see the pirate in the background?

I searched, and sure enough there was some random guy dressed as a pirate in the background. Such a typical guy photo. No girl would think it was funny enough to repost. I sure didn't.

Scrolling down, I glanced at a few other pictures he'd posted with the same theme. Tapping on his "About" section, I skimmed though his information. He worked at a golf store, lived in Dormere, Tennessee, and went to Dormere University. My stomach clinched at the information, even though I already knew he lived in Tennessee. Coldcreek was a small town and just because I lived close to Norhurst University now didn't mean I didn't visit Coldcreek every now and then and get filled in on the town gossip. Jason Bryant's family just so happened to be the talk of the town a few years ago when his father passed away. This was another reason why I had a biased opinion of him—people said he'd bolted after his father's death, leaving his grieving mother behind because he couldn't deal with the pain of it.

Glancing over the pages that Jason had "liked," I realized he was really into sports shops and enjoyed beer. His album photos caught my attention next. There were some of him standing on top of a mountain with a beer in one hand and a smile on his face as he gazed out at the view in front of him, some of him with his arms draped over his buddies' shoulders beneath a waterfall, and some with him sandwiched between two beautiful girls with the glow of a bonfire glimmering in front of them. Obviously these were all pictures others had taken of him, but they were also images of memories captured in the moment.

Jason, according to his Facebook page, had lived. He'd gotten out there and seen things I could only dream of. Biting the inside of my cheek, I thought about this more. What did my Facebook page say about me? That I was an aunt who loved her niece, that I had a good job, I was a student, and that I went out on limited occasions with my two closest friends.

I wasn't exciting. I was a stick in the mud.

Before I knew what I was doing, I'd tapped "Accept Friend Request" and froze. My heart pounded ridiculously loud in my chest. Crinkling my nose, I tossed both the pillow and my phone onto my bed and headed to the kitchen.

The apartment was quiet. Paige had passed out an hour ago and Lauren left well before then. I'd stayed up in the hopes of studying for a bit more, but Facebook had sucked me in. Flipping the kitchen light on, I opened the freezer and searched for the pint of ice cream I knew I'd bought two days ago. The yellow container of mint chocolate chip called to me from in the back. Grabbing it out, I riffled through the dishwasher for a clean spoon and made my way to the living room to watch some reality TV while eating.

By 12:30 in the afternoon I'd already showered and left the house, headed toward Coldcreek to scoop up Tinley. Today was the afternoon I said I would spend with her so my sister, Bonnie, could take a much-needed break. Normally I visited home about once a week, but between cramming for finals and squeezing in extra shifts at Cross Meadows when I could, I hadn't had the time lately.

Coldcreek wasn't a bad little town, but it did have its drawbacks for some. For me, though, I didn't care to live the fast-paced life of a city dweller. My life was just as fast-paced and hectic as I could handle as it was. Cruising down Main Street at the designated twenty mph, I took in the town's charm—people walked down the sidewalks with smiles and shopping bags clamped in their hands, the little shops were vibrant with colors to lure in customers, everything was clean and perfectly manicured.

Coldcreek was decent.

Turning onto Wyatt Street, I took another sip of my vanilla frappuccino and went through the mental checklist of things I'd compiled for Tinley and me to do today. After two more turns, I pulled into my sister's narrow driveway. She didn't live in a mansion, but Bonnie did have the whole "white picket fence" thing going for her. She and her husband, Brice, had bought a three-bedroom brick house right after they were married with the hopes of filling both spare rooms with children quickly. That was almost five years ago.

The thought that Bonnie had gotten married—and to Brice Carter of all people—when she was a year younger than I am now, was insane. I was nowhere near ready for marriage—then again, you sort of had to be dating someone for a while to get to that point and I wasn't near accomplishing that either.

I'd just cut the engine on my crappy Mazda when Tinley came barreling out the front door of the house, shouting my name and waving some little stuffed bunny in the air at me as she ran. It was quite possibly the cutest thing I'd ever seen. When she made it to me, Tinley wrapped her little arms around my thighs and squeezed as tightly as she could. Bonnie appeared in the front door. She leaned against the frame and smirked at the two of us.

"She's been asking when you were going to get here since yesterday," Bonnie said. "She heard me talking to Brice about you coming by today and has been ecstatic since."

I laughed and ran my fingers through her blonde hair. "Aww, well, I've been excited to see you too, Tinley." Bending down, I picked her up and headed toward the house. "What's that you have there?" I asked her, motioning toward her rabbit.

"Bunny!" Tinley said. Her overexcitement lit her blue eyes and made me smile. "It's pink!"

"That's right, the bunny is pink," I said, amazed she knew the color pink already.

"She's been learning her colors lately, Aunt Blaire," Bonnie said with a proud smile. "She already knows pink, white, green, and yellow."

"Oh, really?" I asked, making a big deal about it.

Tinley nodded her head and her smile grew. "I do."

She wiggled her tiny frame free from my arms as soon as we passed through the threshold of the house. Her little legs carried her across the living room at breakneck speed to the coffee table, where I could see she'd been coloring a picture.

"See! Pink, white, gween, and wellow!" she said.

She'd used each of the colors she knew in the picture. It was from the _Dora the Explorer_ coloring book I'd brought her the last time I came to visit.

"Pretty," I said to her. "Is that for me?"

Tinley nodded and then concentrated on finishing the picture. Bonnie walked to the kitchen, just off the living room, and I followed. She stuck her hands into the sink filled with soapy water and continued washing the dishes in it.

"Don't you use the dishwasher?" I asked. I leaned against the counter and took another sip of my frappuccino.

Bonnie looked at me like I was stupid. "Yeah, it's full and running. This was what wouldn't fit."

"Jesus, you guys eat a lot, don't you?"

"Well, when you cook three meals a day, plus one afternoon snack, the dishes tend to pile up."

"I can see that." I grinned.

Bonnie rolled her eyes. "One day you'll understand."

"Not anytime soon."

"That's right, not if you aren't dating anyone." She shifted her eyes to look at me directly. " _Are_ you dating anyone?"

My eyes fell to the floor. "No, I've been busy with finals and work lately."

"Blaire, you're at the perfect place to meet guys—college! No dating site in the world could compete with the selection and easy access you've got there."

"Oh yeah, it's some selection all right—of stoners, idiots, and future alcoholics," I said with mock excitement.

Bonnie laughed. "They can't all be bad... I mean, they've got to be better than the selection at Cross Meadows, right?"

I let out a dry laugh. "Funny."

For whatever reason, an image of Jason from last night popped into my head—his thick black hair, gorgeous blue eyes, and kissable lips. The urge to check my Facebook again and see if he'd said anything to me via private message or if he'd changed his status update in the last forty minutes or so blasted through me. Damn him. It was high school all over again, only this time he'd sent me a friend request and I'd accepted.

"So, how's the sewing business going?" I asked. It was a plotted change of subject, but one I knew she would fall for.

Bonnie was a sewing extraordinaire. For the last year and a half she'd been crafting new ideas for things to sew up and sell. She'd sold a few odds and ends to people around town, but about eight months ago I'd talked her into creating an online platform and going from there. She'd set up her own shop on Etsy and created a blogger website for her stuff as well. She started selling things like hotcakes—chic potholders, aprons, throw pillowcases, even tote bags with pockets for markers or crayons built in. Everyone had been on board with her decision to pursue her handcrafted career choice; I even passed out her business cards at work, but then her sales slowed and the applause stopped from _some_ people—mainly her husband.

"It's going." Bonnie shrugged. She placed the large bowl she'd been rinsing into the dish drainer.

I scrunched my nose. "Is Brice being supportive?"

Bonnie tensed. "He's... Well, he's Brice about it all."

"Which means?"

"When it's making money it's a real job, but when it's not he acts like it's a hobby."

Rolling my eyes, I sighed loudly. Brice could be such a damn jerk sometimes, and especially to my sister. Why she put up with him half the time I had no clue. She was beautiful, anyone would agree with that, and yet she'd picked the one person in Coldcreek who didn't see her for what she was worth.

"And do you tell him that's not the case?" I asked.

"Every day," she said. "He just doesn't get it and he never will. It's like a vicious cycle with us. I tell him sales are slow and he tells me to get a real job then, because we need the money. I say we can't afford to put Tinley in daycare and he says well, what do you want me to do then. It's always the same."

I hated how broken and defeated she sounded. It tore at the edges of my heart and made me wish there was something I could do to help out her situation more, some magic button I could push that would instantly make a million people rush to her site and buy every damn thing she had available and then some. Unfortunately, my dream of doing just that was impossible. So, I settled for making my sister smile instead.

"And you wonder why I'm not dating anyone," I said with a slight chuckle.

Bonnie burst out into a fit of laughter. I joined in, but part of me wondered if she was laughing because it was either that or cry about her current situation, and it made my laughing feel fake.

"Maybe you have it right and I don't, little sis," she said.

Finishing the last of my frappuccino, I smiled at her and nodded. "Maybe."

## Chapter 8

# Jason

I woke to the smell of coffee stinging my nose. It wasn't just any regular old coffee; it was I-need-to-get-my-ass-moving-now coffee. The type I usually drank when I had a killer hangover and still had shit to do. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I rolled onto my stomach and buried my face in my pillow. After a few minutes, I flipped back over and reached for my cell on the nightstand, where I'd last left it. I checked my email and then my Facebook, completing my daily wake-up ritual. Technology was addictive that way.

"Blaire Hayes accepted your Friend Request" was the first thing I saw.

An ear-to-ear grin broke out on my face. Normally something so simple wouldn't have fazed me; today it did though. I stared at her little picture for way too long before finally setting my phone down and forcing my ass out of bed. Scooping up some sweats from the floor, I pulled them on and then made my way down the hall to the bathroom.

"Morning," Mom muttered once I entered the kitchen after relieving my swollen bladder.

"Morning." I glared at her. She looked like shit. Normally my mother was a gorgeous woman, but with her current hangover from hell that was definitely not the case this morning. She was still dressed in the clothes from last night, her hair frizzy and pulled over one shoulder.

"What time did you get in last night?" she asked. The large mug she held between her hands appeared too bulky for her delicate frame.

I went to the cabinet and grabbed the first mug I saw. "Around one, I guess."

"Did you have fun?" she asked. She was trying desperately to hold a conversation, to not reveal how trashed she'd gotten all by herself last night.

"It was all right." I shrugged a shoulder. "I ran into some people from high school, caught up a bit, and had a few drinks. That's about it."

She tapped the ring she still wore on her left hand against the mug she held. I frowned as I poured myself some coffee. It had been three years. Even though I'd loved Dad as much has she did, I knew she should have moved on a while ago. This house was supposed to be a way to do that, but it hadn't worked.

Nothing had. Not for her.

"What did you do last night?" I asked, even though the clues to that had rested on the counter last night when I'd walked through the door.

Glancing around, I realized everything had been removed. There was no longer a burnt Stouffers lasagna on the stove or an empty bottle of her favorite red wine on the counter. The only remnants of her night were reflected in her features.

"Nothing," she said. "Watched a little TV, attempted to cook a lasagna, and that's about it."

She didn't mention the wine. I hadn't thought she would.

"Are you leaving today?" she asked. She took a small sip of her coffee and winced. That couldn't be a good sign, the coffee must be bitter as shit.

Stirring in a little more creamer and sugar, I set the spoon I'd been using on the counter and turned to face her. "Yeah, I figured I'd head back a little later this afternoon. I need to cram some more for finals tomorrow." I took a sip of my coffee and nearly sprayed it all over the floor of the kitchen. That shit was strong! "Is there anything more you need me to do at Gramps' place before I leave? I've boxed everything up already."

"No, it can all wait," she said without meeting my eyes. "I planned on having an appraiser come look at it next week—I think they're supposed to come on Wednesday and the inspector is on Friday. They can both walk around a few boxes."

Appraiser; it was still so strange to me that we were selling my grandparents' house. I had so many childhood memories in that place—probably just as many as were made in our old house. Soon it would be gone. Some schmuck would come along and buy it up without realizing everything that had happened between the walls—all the pies eaten, summer days spent, and awesome holiday dinners shared. They'd walk out on the dock and not realize that was the place my Gramps had taught me to fish.

Why was life so ever-changing?

"Sounds good," I said. "Let me know if they have any suggested repairs or whatnot, I'll start fixing them when I get back."

"When you get back?" she asked. "What do you mean when you get back?"

"I figured I'd come back for however long it takes to get things up to par there. When we sold the other house, I know there was a lengthy list you had to deal with. I'm sure this place won't be any different and you could use all the money we can get out of it to take care of Gramps in that home," I said.

Guilt didn't even begin to cover all the emotions I felt when I thought back to how I'd dipped out after Dad died, leaving her to deal with the move and everything that went with it all alone. I was eighteen and fresh out of high school; there were only so many things I could handle at the time. Dealing with packing up my dead father's belongings was not one of them. At least that's what I told myself, what helped me sleep at night and what I'd made myself believe—that I wasn't stable enough, mature enough, to handle such things at the time.

I'd used a similar excuse when Gran was bedridden and sick last year, but I'd also added in that I had a full load with school and a part-time job. The true reason was, I hadn't been able to deal with the first death that had swept through my life like a tornado, ripping and shredding at everything that ever was; there was no way I was ready to go through that twice in such a sort amount of time. This time though, I wasn't about to let Mom go through it all on her own. The phone call I'd gotten from her about two weeks ago had nearly killed me. It was my reason for being here, for stepping up like I should have both times before. She deserved it.

I hadn't known Gramps was having such a hard time with the loss of my grandmother. They'd been together for nearly forty-five years—I was stupid to not think there would have been an unfathomable bond between the two. It was so strong, in fact, he'd literally given up, and I was positive over the next few months he would be the first person I'd ever meet to die of a broken heart.

Mom didn't deserve to deal with any more death on her own. Having her husband die, and then her own mother two years later, and now her father almost a year later—that was something no one would wish on their worst enemy. It was time I stepped up and was there for her. It was time I stopped being a little bitch about the whole thing and acted like a man. My mom needed me—I was all she had left.

"I hired people for that then and I'll hire them now, if that happens to be the case. This is not your problem, Jason, you need to focus on school," she snapped.

"School's over in a week, Mom," I said. "I'm helping. You don't need to hire anyone. I can do it."

"What about your job? What about your apartment? Jason, the list they could hand me might be lengthy and I can't allow you to travel back and forth for this. I can't afford to foot the bill for your gas and I know you can't either," she insisted.

"Mom, I'll be fine." I smiled. "I've already thought this through. Brian can get a new roommate if I think I'm gonna be here for too long. They aren't going to miss me at the golf course for crying out loud; that's such an easy-fill job it's ridiculous, and if need be, I can always enroll at Norhurst in the fall." I shrugged.

Her eyes grew wide. "You've really thought this through then?"

I nodded. "I have. We'll have to see how things go, but I do have a backup plan, should I need one. Don't worry so much, Mom. I'm here for you."

My heart sank to my toes at the sight of tears filling her eyes. Had I really been hurting her that much being away? By not being here to help her with this all? Or maybe it was just the simple fact that me being here made her feel less alone.

God, I'd been a shitty son. It was time I made it up to her.

If she told me right now to move back home and help her out, I'd do it in a heartbeat. It was never my mom I was running from, it was the memories and the pity in the faces of those around town who knew all too well the type of torment my mother and I had gone through with my dad's death.

Mom took another sip of her coffee, her bright green eyes locked with mine. The tears were there, glistening in the florescent light of the kitchen, but I knew she wouldn't let them fall.

"I'll try not to," she whispered with a smile.

"Good." Setting my coffee on the counter, I headed back to my room for some clothes. I needed a shower. "Now go get some sleep... You look horrible." I heard a gasp escape her. She'd honestly believed I'd been too messed up last night to notice the empty bottle on the counter and the glass on the coffee table.

"Thanks for sugarcoating it, sweetheart," she called after me.

I smirked to myself and shook my head. God, I loved my mom.

## Chapter 9

# Blaire

Bonnie's office/business central was organized so expertly it made me want to run home and redo everything in my room, implementing what she had going on here. Solid wooden bookshelves stood at attention on either side of her matching desk, crammed with a rainbow of spools of thread and Mason jars filled to the rim with buttons of every shape and color. There were two crates filled with rolls of ribbon on the bottom shelves and numerous craft books lining the top shelves.

The closet to the room was neatly organized as well—broken-down cardboard boxes for shipping sat in one area, aprons she'd created hung on hangers, pillowcases were folded and pressed into perfect squares waiting to be sold. A clear three-drawer storage case was pressed against the wall; inside were scissors, tape, and loads of miscellaneous odds and ends tucked away. I loved this room.

"You've redone _everything._ " My eyes traveled around the room once more. "It looks great."

"Thanks, I thought it was time," she said. "One of the first things you have to learn when running your own business is that organization is key. I'm constantly improving my space and process to make things easier. With Tinley getting older and more demanding of my time, Brice being a prick about whether it's an actual business or just a hobby, and my nerves being frazzled from taking on so much at once...organizing things makes it that much easier to get what I need to get done without wondering where I've placed something or if I have something that's been ordered in stock."

"Makes sense to me," I said.

Tinley bounded into the room, carrying the picture she'd been working on.

"Aunt B, it's done," she said.

She called me Aunt B because when she was little, she hadn't been able to say Blaire. Eventually she'd given up and shortened my name to one letter—B. It had stuck and I loved it.

"Oh, it's beautiful!" I took it from her little fingers. "I have just the place for this at home. I'll put it on my fridge."

Tinley grinned and ran out of the room. The sounds of a new show coming on the TV echoed down the hall, Tinley's little voice singing along mixed in.

"So, how much did this cost you?" I asked. "Did Brice shit a brick?"

Bonnie's face scrunched up. "What do you think?"

"He did," I said flatly. My distaste for him leaked through my words.

"He wasn't happy about it, but he wasn't pissed or anything either," she said. "I mean, he's just worried about us not being able to pay the bills and stuff. Which is just standard, married couple arguments."

She was backtracking. Bonnie hated it when me or our Mom started in on Brice. It wasn't that Brice was horrible to her; it was the simple fact that Mom and I both agreed he didn't see what she was worth. Bonnie was a diamond in that guy's bucket of coal and he needed to realize that more. Not many women would put up with his shit... I wouldn't.

"If you say so," I said. Leaving it at that was what needed to happen, otherwise we'd start arguing and I wouldn't get my time with Tinley and she wouldn't get her break.

"How's school going?" she asked. She flipped off the office light and started back toward the living room, where we could hear Tinley talking to the interactive TV show she'd been watching. "Are you ready for your finals next week?"

This was Bonnie's way of changing the subject. She wasn't as smooth as she thought, but I let it happen.

"Yes and no," I answered. "I'm nervous, but I don't think it's possible to study any more than I already have."

Bonnie moved to sit on the recliner and I flopped down beside Tin on the couch. Reaching out, I stroked her silky strands.

"What are you planning on doing for the summer?" Bonnie asked.

I had a feeling I already knew where this was going.

"Working at Cross Meadows five days a week, why?"

"Because your favorite little niece would love to spend a few days with you over the summer, I'm sure."

"Like when? Are you and Brice going on a romantic vacation?" My jaw slacked—they never did anything.

She waved me off and rolled her eyes. "Yeah right, like Mr. Tightwad would allow that. No, I just mean maybe a day a week or a day every two weeks, so I can focus and get some stuff done without interruptions."

Tinley rubbed her little hand against my knee as though she were letting me know she enjoyed me playing with her hair. "I'll think about it and see what I can do."

"Please, I'll pay you," Bonnie said.

"You don't have to pay me. I'll watch her for free. I just have to check my schedule at work and stuff first."

"Thank you," she said. "So, where are the two of you going today?"

That was my cue to leave so she could work. "The park."

Coldcreek Park was something that had evolved over the last few years. It started out as a jungle gym, four swings, and one monkey bar next to an overgrown walkway no one ever used. A few years ago our town elected a new mayor and he'd been all about physical fitness—which was how Coldcreek Park morphed into what it was now, a kid's paradise. With six swings, five different slides of various sizes, a bridge, a fire pole, monkey bars, and a water feature—Coldcreek Park was the best. They'd even mowed the walkway and planted flowers and shrubs along it, which encouraged more people to put it to use.

Pulling into the gravel parking lot, I glanced into my rearview mirror just in time to see Tinley's face light up at the sight of kids running through the sprinklers. Bonnie had dressed her in a little red-and-white polka-dot one-piece bathing suit that had a ruffle around its waist. It was the cutest thing.

Loading my arms with the bag Bonnie had packed that was jammed with what looked like the entire house minus the sink, and the lunch I'd gotten us on the way, I crawled out of my car. Setting the drink tray on the top, I opened Tinley's door and let her out.

"Tin, we're gonna eat first. Remember?" I asked.

She bolted past me and stopped on the squishy used-tire mulch they'd laid down. Struggling with everything in my arms, I made my way over to her. She dashed from where she stood to the covered pavilion near the water feature. It was like this every time. I'd make it to where she was standing and then she'd dash away to the next area she knew I would go to. She had the park mapped out like that.

Flopping down half the crap I'd carried from the car, I handed Tinley her drink and started to dig through the large bag for her meal.

"Chicken nuggets and fries," I said. I smiled at her and her face lit up. She eagerly held out her hands for the fast-food goodness I was about to fill her tummy with. My sister would kill me later, but the smile on Tinley's face right now was worth it. "Your favorite Aunt B food."

"Nuggets, nuggets!" Tinley shouted with a wide grin.

Squeezing some ketchup into the top part of the little cardboard box for her nuggets, I glanced around to see who all was here today. A girl I went to school with stood at the swings, pushing her little girl, who appeared to be around Tinley's age, while she talked on her phone. It was always strange to see someone I'd graduated with playing with a kid of her own. I couldn't imagine having such a large responsibility at this age.

A guy who was probably in his mid-thirties sat at the bench to my left, watching a group of three little kids play. I hoped they were his, because I would call the police in a second if I thought he was sitting here scooping out innocent little kids. Even in a town as small as Croldcreek, you still had to watch out for weirdos and perverts. I imagined it was that way anywhere though. A little girl with her water shoe half off ran up to him yelling, "Daddy, my shoe came off," and put my mind at ease.

"So, what are you planning on doing first?" I asked Tinley as I took a bite of my burger.

"Water!" she said without a moment of hesitation.

Glancing over at the water feature, I took a nibble off one of Tinley's fries and smiled. Water would have been my first activity too. There was a mass of colored bathing suits cramming the entire area, but not one kid looked like they weren't having fun.

"Can I play?" Tinley asked.

She quickly finished her meal and downed half her soda before I could eat more than a quarter of my burger. The anticipation of fun must have been too much for her. I took the trash from her lap and dumped it back into the bag.

"Go ahead, you can play," I said.

She raced off at lightning speed and darted straight through the first sprinkler, laughing. It was a great sound. It made me wish I could visit with her more often. She was growing up so fast. I took another bite of my burger and felt a warm breeze blow through the park.

"Aunt B, look!" Tinley shouted.

Shifting my gaze to her, I watched her run and jump through a sprinkler that put nothing out besides a slight mist. Tinley made a high-pitched giggle and turned around for round two.

"Fun!" I shouted back.

Pulling my phone from where I'd crammed it into the front pocket of the bag Bonnie had packed for Tinley, I decided I'd check my Facebook real quick—on the off chance Jason had posted up a new status. I never made it to scroll through my news feed, because there was a private message from him waiting on me.

**So, can I pick you up next Saturday for drinks at Shooters?**

I nearly choked on my burger. Jason Bryant wanted to pick me up on Saturday to have drinks at Shooters with him? Holy hell.

## Chapter 10

# Jason

I'd only been on the road for an hour, but I was starved so I'd taken a minute to swing through a fast-food joint. While waiting in the never-ending drive-through line, I'd snatched out my cell and sent Blaire a message on Facebook asking her out next Saturday. A bar near the college wasn't the best place to go for a date, but I figured it might make things seem a little less awkward and hopefully it wouldn't be as noisy as the party had been.

Those were my thoughts anyway.

If she agreed to go out and things went well, the next date would be dinner and a movie. I finished my cheeseburger, checked my Facebook, and nearly flipped a lid when I saw Blaire had seen my message already. She just hadn't responded back yet. I waited for a while, browsing around looking at others' stupid pictures and whiny updates they'd posted . Some people made Facebook such a drag. My heart began to race as a message from Blaire popped up on my phone.

**I think I have to work. Sorry.**

My head fell back against the headrest of my Jeep and I let out a long breath. Shot down. Either Blaire really wasn't that into me, or else she was good at being vindictive and playing hard to get. I'd dealt with both before and in my experience, it was always the ones who played a little hard to get that were the keepers.

With a smile, I replied back:

**If you change your mind, I'll be the lonely guy sitting at the bar on Saturday night.**

Instantly Facebook said she'd seen it, because she was "active now," but she never replied back. Chucking my phone into the passenger seat, I took a swig of my soda and popped my Jeep into reverse. I'd given her something to ponder, and if she was the sweetheart from high school I still thought that she was, she'd respond back later tonight telling me that she'd be there. Maybe I was a dick for playing that whole guilt card thing, but what else was I supposed to do? I wanted a date with Blaire and I wasn't above making her feel guilty to get it.

It was nearly 8:30 PM by the time I finally made it to my apartment. It was a four-hour drive from Coldcreek, North Carolina to Dormere, Tennessee. I always took the back-road route. It broke up the scenery and cut down the straight-as-an-arrow highway miles to a bare minimum.

Central Ridge Apartment Complex had a total of five buildings, each of them marked with numbers and designated their own alphabet letter. Mine was 515 G in the second building. Why they started out with the number 515 I had no clue. The buildings were cookie-cutter—all a tan shade of vinyl siding on the top, fake brick along the bottom, and plastic-looking shutters at every window. They were fully furnished, adequately sized, and decently priced. Really, that was all that mattered.

Brian's truck was parked in its usual spot, but not at its usual time. Normally Brian was a night owl, it was rare he was ever home before one in the morning. How he managed to keep up his grades, work, and find time to sleep baffled me. The dude was always on the go. But that was why we worked so well as roomies. We were hardly ever home at the same time to grate on one another's nerves.

Cutting my engine, I climbed out of my Jeep and reached into the back for the duffle bag I'd stuffed with my weekend clothes. I headed across the parking lot and then through the breezeway toward the stairs. Taking a swig of my soda, I listened to the usual ruckus of the building with a smirk on my face. The couple in 515 E were at it again.

They were your stereotypical couple dealing with the love/hate syndrome. He'd call her a bitch and she'd smack his ass silly, they'd scream and shout, and then eventually the screams and cries of annoyance would turn to ones of pleasure as they made up, allowing the rest of us the satisfaction of hearing it whether we wanted to or not. Either the guy had some serious moves or else she knew what she liked and how to make it happen, because I was pretty sure no girl I'd ever slept with had sounded like that while I was going at it.

It had been about a month since I'd gotten any though, so maybe I'd forgotten all the noises I could compel a woman to make. If any.

Jogging up the stairs, I caught the stench of marijuana either seeping from beneath Cage Sanders' door in F or drifting from his deck. Cage was a total stoner. The first time I'd met him was when I had been unloading my stuff and hauling it up the stairs to G. He had come out to lean against the banister and stare at me. The first thing I'd noticed about him was that he had a mass of dirty blond dreads. The second was that he wore a pair of cut-off shorts that were way too short for my comfort. And the third was that he'd had no shoes on. But it was the very first thing he ever said to me which stood out most: He'd asked me what my major was.

Shocked that would be the first question out of the mouth of a guy who looked like that, I'd answered with the truth and a lopsided grin, psychology, and then moved on. Cage had followed; he leaned against the doorframe of the apartment, lit the fattest joint I'd ever seen, and then asked me if I smoked. My answer had been "Sometimes," because I figured a flat-out no wouldn't put me on his good side. My answer must have been sufficient enough, allowing him to think I was a decent guy. Ever since then, he'd tried to get me to take a puff whenever I saw him. More often than not, I turned him down.

As I rounded the top of the stairs, heading past his apartment, I wondered if I would have the strength to turn him down if he asked me right now. I didn't have to worry, though, because that moment never came.

Opening the front door to Brian and mine's apartment, I walked right in on him and his girl going at it full force on the couch. I'd never seen Sarah butt-ass naked before, but I would be lying if I said I'd never imagined it. I would never consider myself a pervert, but with a body like Sarah's, any guy was destined to have at least one undressable moment in his mind's eye with her.

Sarah was tall, with a petite frame and long, lean limbs. She had the body of a dancer and rightfully so—considering she'd been a ballerina since childhood. She had strawberry blonde hair that fell straight as a board to her hips and skin the color of caramel. I knew it was a fake bake, or at the very least a spray tan, when I first laid eyes on her, because I had never seen a redhead with such naturally dark skin before. It wasn't possible—there was no way she could obtain a golden-to-perfection tan like that from the natural sun with genes like hers.

Sarah jumped off Brian so fast, I thought there was a good chance she could have broken something of his in the process. From the way he was glaring at me, it might be a possibility. I downturned my eyes and covered them with my hand, but not before I caught sight of a tattoo I didn't know Sarah had. It was a vine of some sort that zigzagged its way from her hip to her underarm. It was exotic and sexy looking, and I knew I would be seeing images of it for a while after this that would be beyond my control.

"Jesus Christ, Jason! What the fuck are you doing home so soon, man?" Brian asked.

When I opened my eyes I noticed he'd draped his T-shirt over his nether regions and was smoothing a hand over his face. Sarah had wrapped a sundress from somewhere around her and was scurrying to Brian's room. It was safe to look now, safe to enter the apartment, but that didn't mean I wanted to. This was beyond awkward. It wasn't the first time something like this had happened between the two of us—hell, once it had even been reversed roles—but that didn't lessen the sense of discomfort embedded in the situation any.

I rubbed my forehead and chuckled. "I said I was on my way home. I texted you and everything, dude."

"I know, but damn it, I thought we had a little while. Shit! Now she's gonna wanna leave. Fuck, man." Brian tossed the T-shirt he'd been using to cover himself with at me. I dodged it and caught sight of his bare ass as he made his way down the hall to retrieve Sarah.

Closing the front door behind me, I laughed and tossed my duffle bag in the recliner. The couch would be tainted to me for a while, maybe forever. Murmurs from Brian's bedroom met with my ears. I couldn't make out what they were saying, but it didn't sound like they were picking up where they left off. I wondered for a moment if I should head somewhere else for a bit to give them a moment of privacy so they could do just that, but then I remembered I was the one who'd just driven four hours. They'd just have to deal with my presence or go someplace else.

Dumping my watered-down soda in the sink and tossing the cup in the trash, I pulled out my cell and got on Facebook. The desire to see if Blaire had given in like I thought she would was eating me alive. I waited for the page to load and heard Sarah coming down the hallway.

"Hey, Jason, glad you made it back okay." She smiled. "Sorry you had to come home to... _that_." Her cheeks tinted a pretty shade of pink and she darted toward the door.

"Don't leave," I said. "You two can pick up where you left off. I can always sit on the deck if you're worried I might hear something."

She'd paused at the door and turned to glance at me over her shoulder. "I don't think so, I needed to head to work anyway."

"All right, if you're sure." I grinned, unable to help myself. This was such an awkward conversation.

"I'm good," she said. " _He_ might need another minute or two, though." She flashed me a wicked smile.

I knew exactly what she was talking about and I'll be damned if this little joking thing we had going didn't turn me on, regardless of the topic. It was official, I really needed to get laid.

Sarah left without another word. I was glad, because it was wrong on so many levels for me to even be thinking about her the way that I was. Some guys were like that, I wasn't one of them. I didn't enjoy stealing another's girl, nor did I enjoy undressing them with my eyes, or having fantasies plague my mind while in their presence. Shifting my attention back to Blaire and Facebook, I realized I still didn't have the response back from her that I wanted.

"You're timing totally sucks, bro," Brian said. He made his way to the kitchen, dressed in a pair of blue basketball shorts, and grabbed himself a beer from the fridge.

I followed suit, popping the top with the belt buckle I'd bought for this sole reason. "Glad to see you have some damn clothes on," I replied. "That was sick, man, don't ever walk through the apartment naked again please."

He chuckled and took a swig of his beer. "Well, next time coordinate with me a little better about when you're coming back, don't leave me guessing how much longer, because I apparently suck at that."

"That you do." I leaned against the counter and smirked.

"So, how was the trip? You get everything you needed to get done?" Brain asked. He knew everything I'd been going there to deal with. He also knew there was a possibility he might have to find a new roommate if things went south and were going to take longer than I anticipated them to, which was pretty much my life story.

"Mostly." I fingered the bottle cap I had yet to throw away and stared off into space. "I plan on going back next weekend. There's still a few things I need to get done and my mom should have the list of repairs by then."

"Okay, so I hate to even bring it up, but do you think you might be gone for a while?" he asked.

I knew what he was getting to, but Brian was too decent of a guy to come right out and ask.

"I don't think I'll be moving out any time soon, if that's what you're getting around to," I said. "I know I'll probably have to go there more than one weekend over the next month, but I'll still find a way to pay rent and all that shit."

He shrugged a shoulder like it was no big deal, but I knew it was. Brian couldn't afford to float the rent for me. He had a roommate for a reason.

"No worries, man," he said.

"If I think I'll be moving back or something for whatever reason, I'll give you a heads up. I wouldn't leave you hanging."

"I never thought you would," he said.

We both took a swig of our beers and ended the conversation.

## Chapter 11

# Blaire

I had taken Tinley back to Bonnie's around four in the afternoon. Bonnie had gotten a lot done in the sewing department and there was a large stack of boxes varying in sizes by the front door ready to go to the post office tomorrow. I'd pulled away from her house, realizing I needed to make more of an effort to spend time with both Bonnie and Tinley. My cell chimed from in my cup holder, alerting me of a new text. I waited until I was stopped at a traffic light before I picked it up to read it. It was from Paige.

**You eating here tonight?**

**Yeah, on my way. Why? ~ Blaire**

The light turned green and I set my phone back down. When I got to the next light, I picked it up again to read her response.

**Ordering in Chinese and wanted to know if I needed to get extra.**

I smiled.

**Yes, please! ~ Blaire**

My stomach grumbled at the thought of food. Chinese food was a favorite of mine. A song I hadn't heard in a while came on the radio and, for whatever reason, it instantly made me think of Jason. I turned it up and thought about the message he'd sent me last. Why I'd shot him down I had no clue. I'd already gotten my little bit of revenge and spoke my mind about what I thought about him and what he'd done back in high school. My declining him really wasn't about that. It was more along the lines of I knew the type of guy he'd grown up to be and I didn't want, didn't need, to be around a guy of that kind. He was bad for me. He'd reel me in like a freaking trout and then toss me back, bleeding, like I was nothing. It was catch and release with guys like him. I'd witnessed enough of Paige and Lauren's past relationships to be able to spot a guy like that early on.

Jason Bryant was definitely someone I needed to avoid.

The drive to my apartment was long, nearly forty minutes. When Calmount Apartments came into view a sigh of relief escaped me. I was dog tired. Lugging my exhausted ass up the minimal stairs leading to our apartment, I opened the door and was greeted by the heavenly scent of Chinese food.

"Hey, chick," Paige said from the couch. She was stuffing her face with noodles of some sort. "You look like crap. Did Tinley wear you out or something?"

"She's such a handful. I have no clue how my sister does it." I flopped down on the couch beside her and plunked my heavy purse on the coffee table. "I took her to the park. At first I just watched her play in the water feature thing they have, but then she wanted to swing so I had to push her. Then she moved to the slide and wanted Aunt B to go down it with her, like fifty times. I'm so tired I think I might fall asleep while eating."

Paige laughed. "I can't believe how big she's getting. I bet she's so stinking cute now though."

"She is." I nodded. I scooped up a box of what looked like chicken fried rice and the fork Paige had set out for me.

"So, that means no cram fest together tonight then, huh?" Paige asked with mild concern. Some TV show was drawing her attention away from the conversation quickly.

I smacked my palm to my forehead. I'd completely forgotten I was supposed to help her study tonight. I'd made note cards and everything the other night while I'd lain in bed sucking on throat lozenges.

"I forgot! I'm sorry," I said. "We can still study though, I'll drink some coffee and then I'll be good to go. Promise."

"Eh, it's really not that big of a deal. I think I'll manage. I'll just look over those note card things you made before the test and I should be good," she said. Her eyes were glued to the TV; she didn't even notice when half of the noodles she'd attempted to cram in her mouth fell into her lap.

Shifting my eyes, I realized why. It wasn't a TV show she was watching—it was the movie _Magic Mike_. And dear God, I didn't blame her for tuning me out. How Channing Tatum landed those dance moves blew my freaking mind. This couldn't be something he was taught, that was for sure. No, not even close, those dance moves were something he was born knowing how to do. And Jesus he looked good doing them.

After watching _Magic Mike_ with my eyes glued to the TV, I made a cup of coffee and decided to cram a bit before I went to bed anyway. This would have generally been fine, but with the images from the movie still lingering in my mind and the aching they'd created between my thighs still plying for my attention—there was no studying going to happen at the moment. Picking up my phone, I tapped on Facebook to distract myself, and maybe find a good picture of Jason to stare at while I took matters into my own hands.

Once Facebook loaded, I realized I wasn't the only one up at midnight—Jason was too. And he instantly messaged me.

**What are you doing up so late? Allowing Facebook to distract you while taking a break from cramming the night before like the rest of us?**

Ha! If only he knew what I was trolling Facebook for.

**Yup, you caught me. What about you? Same?**

I bit my bottom lip while I waited for his response. Why was I even talking to him? No good could come from this.

Trout, I reminded myself, you do not want to be a trout on his pole. His pole? Damn you, _Magic Mike_ , now my mind was corrupted for good.

**Same. What's your major again?**

I'd just told him this the other night. Was his memory really that lax?

**I'm going for my RN license.**

**Oh. Right. I forgot.**

I let out a loud breath. The release I'd wanted moments ago was now gone. Maybe it had been a good thing—pleasuring myself to an image of Jason from Facebook sounded stalker-ish in more ways than I liked. By being online and talking to me, he'd actually done me a favor.

**What's yours?**

It was part common courtesy of me to ask and partly because I wanted to know. He responded quickly.

**Psychology.**

I wasn't sure what shocked me more—his speed at responding or his answer.

**Wow, really?**

**Why, does that surprise you?**

I thought about his question for a minute, determining the best way to answer.

**Just figured you'd be studying sports medicine or something considering how athletic you were in high school.**

Athletic, why did I have to say that? Now I was back to thinking about his body and how finely sculpted it was sure to feel beneath my hands.

**Eh, I enjoy learning about the mind and people's behavior patterns and such. Maybe I'm a little more intellectual than you thought, huh?**

Did he think I thought he was a moron? Wasn't too far from the truth. I mean, a person couldn't have it all—both brains and body—could they?

**Guilty.**

**Well, maybe if you'd take me up on my offer for next Saturday you'd get to know me a little more and realize that couldn't be farther from the truth.**

Damn it, there he was bringing Saturday up again. Trout. Trout. I really needed to remember that. I couldn't let him reel me in, it would only cause me heartache and pain that I didn't need.

**You know you never gave me a legitimate reason as to why you said no.**

My heart dropped to my stomach. Why would he put me on the spot like that? I laid my head back, trying to think of a reply.

**I'm still waiting...**

I hated that he was waiting. I hated that I couldn't think of a single thing to say that would seem good enough for why I couldn't go out with him.

**I think I have to work that night, I'll have to check my schedule when I go in tomorrow.**

Wasn't that pretty much the same thing I'd told him the other night? It was partly true. I did need to check my schedule when I went in tomorrow, but I knew already that I had weekends off this month, because they knew I was preparing for finals and needed the time to study.

**It's early in the week. You could let them know you won't be able to work Saturday and then come hang out with me at the bar. I could make it worth your while.**

The area between my thighs began to tingle just reading his words. I didn't know if by saying "he'd make it worth my while" he meant what I was suddenly thinking of, but it brought a smile to my face nonetheless.

Chewing my bottom lip, I wondered what I should respond back with. Why was I telling him no? Jason Bryant wanted to go out with me, the least I could do was say yes. After all, this was my high school dream happening right now. Maybe it was time I finally gave into this fantasy while I still had the chance.

**All right, you've twisted my arm. I'll see what I can do at work and get back to you soon.**

**I have to be honest here. I would say that's a good thing, you agreeing to look into it, but I'm not too sure it is. Sounds more like I'm forcing you into going out with me and that's not how I planned this would go when I first thought to ask.**

Great, now I'd made him feel as though he'd pressured me into agreeing to go out with him. Or worse, that I'd only said I'd check tomorrow and see what my schedule was because it was the only way to get him off my back without saying a flat-out no.

**No, you're not forcing me into anything. I want to go out with you, I do, I just need to check my schedule and see if I'm off before I say yes. With finals and all the stress that comes with them, I've been sort of scatterbrained lately.**

That may or may not have made the situation worse on his end. I wasn't sure, but it was the best excuse I could come up with at the moment.

**I can relate. Good to know. Night, Blaire.**

**Night.**

My fingers went to my lips and I leaned back against my pillow. Saturday night I had a date with Jason Bryant. I mentally scrolled through the outfits I usually wore out. None of them seemed good enough. Tossing my phone onto my comforter, I crossed my ankles. Damn, I needed a new outfit. Even if I wasn't planning to go out with him again after this, I still needed something freaking awesome to wear. At least I had a few days to plan.

## Chapter 12

# Jason

The week stretched out before me like no other. It was excruciatingly slow and by Friday night I was nearly brain-dead from studying, testing, stressing over the repairs I was going to have to make on my Gramps' house, and thinking of Blaire.

I hated the game I'd played with her online, the way I'd been forced to pull on her heartstrings in order to get her to say yes to me, but like I'd said before, I wasn't above it. Blaire had caved and proved my theory on her to be correct—she was still the sweetheart I remembered from high school. Because she'd caved fairly easily, there was no doubt in my mind she either already knew her schedule for the week and that she didn't have to work on Saturday, or else she really would go in and check like she claimed. Either way, I knew I'd be seeing her at the bar come Saturday.

A satisfied smirk twisted itself into place on my face at the thought.

My cell rang from on my dresser, where I'd set it after I'd checked Facebook for the millionth time this week to see if Blaire had said anything else to me. She hadn't and I'd been planning on what I'd say to her for three days. I needed to remind her about tomorrow night and find out for sure what her answer was. Picking up my phone, I glanced at the screen to see who was calling me. It was my mom. I answered after the fourth ring.

"Hey, Mom."

"Hi, honey. How was your day?"

"Not bad," I said. "I'm glad finals are done. That's for sure."

She chuckled, but it sounded hollow. "I bet you are. Do you think you did all right?"

"Yeah, I think I did fine." I pulled my duffle bag from in the back of my closet and tossed it on my bed. "So, what's up? Everything okay?"

"Yeah, of course. Everything is fine. I just went to visit your grandfather."

"Is he doing any better?" I asked only because I felt I should, but knew the answer would be no. He was about to die from a broken heart, there was no way any doctor could fix that.

She sighed into the phone and I felt my chest tighten. "Yeah, he's okay. It's just hard seeing him this way. I know he misses Mom, but I just wish he wouldn't let go so easily. Is that selfish of me?"

Crossing my room, I sat on the edge of my bed. I didn't know what to say. Did I think she was being selfish in wanting her father to hang around longer than he wanted, because she couldn't deal with the pain of losing another loved one? Hell no. She was human, not selfish.

"No, that's not selfish, Mom," I said. I wished I could come up with something of value to say, some words of wisdom that would ease her mind if only for a moment, but I couldn't think of any off the top of my head. "I think your prognosis is normal." I chuckled and hoped she would too. When she did, my chest loosened some.

"Thank you, Dr. Bryant." I could hear the smile in her voice. "Are you heading home tonight or tomorrow?"

I had planned on hitting a party tonight and then leaving sometime in the afternoon tomorrow, but now that I'd heard her voice, and the loneliness etched within it, I'd changed my mind. "Tonight," I said. "Is that all right? I want to get an early start tomorrow on that list the inspector gave you."

"That's fine by me. I took out a Lowe's charge card yesterday for all the supplies and stuff you might need."

"Why?" I asked, knowing she wouldn't be able to make the payments on it.

"How else did you think I was going to pay for everything?" she asked. There was humor in her voice.

"I don't know, but how can you afford another payment each month?" I asked.

"I've got it figured out, Jason, don't worry about it," she snapped. "I plan on paying it off when I sell the house. With the money I make from it I should be able to pay that off and the last of Dad's medical bills from when he thought he was having that heart attack his insurance didn't cover entirely."

Shit. I remembered that. He'd thought he was having a heart attack about a week after Gran's funeral. Mom had said she'd taken him to the hospital and it had turned out to be nothing but an acute panic attack. I'd known then though that it was his heart breaking just a little more from missing Gran.

"I thought the insurance paid for that all," I said.

"No, not everything. There's still a big chunk I've been making a small payment on each month," she replied.

Running my hands through my hair, I realized that my mom was tougher than shit. How the hell she handled so much all on her own blew my mind and made me feel all kinds of guilty for not being there for her.

"What time do you think you'll be here? I can cook dinner," she said, pulling me from my thoughts.

"I'll leave in about an hour or so." I walked across the room and began shoving clothes from my dresser into my duffle bag.

"All right, I'll make something," she said. "I'll see you in a few. Be careful, sweetie."

"I will. Bye, Mom. Love you."

"Bye. Love you, too." She hung up and I clicked end on my phone as well.

Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I headed into the living room and tossed it on the recliner. Brian and Sarah were snuggling beside each other on the couch, watching some TV show I'd never seen before. It was some paranormal crap that I was sure Brain wouldn't watch if Sarah wasn't here.

"You headed out already?" he asked.

"Yeah," I sighed.

"I thought you were coming to Sebastian's party tonight to celebrate finals being over," Sarah said. "I promise Valerie won't be there. I already talked with her earlier and she said she was planning to go to Stephanie's."

Valerie. I hated even thinking about her right now. We'd dated on and off for a year or so until I finally realized she was the type who enjoyed fighting. She was like the couple in 515 E, the type who got some kind of sick thrill from fighting and arguing because they enjoyed make-up sex a little too much. Valerie was drama and after a while of being trapped in her web I'd learned I didn't enjoy drama as much as she did. Knowing that, I still found myself sucked into her each time I spotted her at a party. Maybe it was the alcohol in my system that caused for a lapse in judgment, or maybe it was the sense of comfort I found with her because there was history there between us—whatever the reason, I always found my limbs entwined with hers the next morning and felt filled with regret.

"I can't, guys. I really need to head back home." I scratched the back of my neck. "My mom's got a shit ton to deal with right now and I really need to be with her. I'm sorry."

"It's cool, man. We get it," Brian said. "When do you think you'll be back?"

"Sometime on Sunday for sure, I gotta work Monday at the course."

"Just be sure you fucking call me when you get into town this time, okay?" he said. Sarah blushed and buried her head into Brian's shoulder.

"I will." I smirked. I headed to the fridge for a can of Pepsi and then scooped up my bag off the recliner. "Enjoy another roommate-free weekend, lovebirds." I winked at them as I walked out the door.

During my drive from Dormere to Coldcreek, my mind drifted to Blaire and tomorrow night. Saturday couldn't come fast enough for me. I'd stopped at a gas station about forty miles back and sent her a message through Facebook asking if she'd checked her schedule yet and been able to weasel me into her Saturday night fun. It was killing me to not know if she'd seen it or responded back.

Seeing her Facebook picture had made me think of the dream I'd had of her the other night, and it had been playing on repeat since in my mind. I'd been at some castle in Ireland, for what reason I wasn't sure.

Blaire was a maid—complete with a sexy little outfit and black feather duster. She'd come up to my room and started dusting while I'd been sitting on the loveseat, reading a novel. In my dream I looked like I felt on the inside—like an intellectual type—not like how I actually looked, a football star. Blaire had been smiling at me while she dusted the oversized mantel above the fireplace. I'd stood to walk to her and corny background music started to play instantly, signifying what we were about to be doing.

I'd continued to where she stood, appraising her with my eyes. She flashed me a sexy smile and I took in every inch of her. Her hair was pulled up in a high bun; she wore a short black dress with white lace trim and a tiny white apron tied around her small waist. But it was her heels that caught and held my attention—they were some serious fuck-me heels and all I wanted was to do was give in to what they begged for.

Gripping the back of her neck, I cradled her head as I went in for the kill. Her lips were soft, tender. Her tongue flicked across my bottom lip and caused my pants to become way too tight. I'd opened my mouth wider for her, slipped a hand under her dress, and began trailing my fingers against the soft skin of her thigh to the area that was calling to me most. Just when I reached the silky fabric of her panties, my alarm went off and I'd woken up with a hard-on like no other that morning.

Turning onto exit 42 B, I merged into traffic. I'd be home in nearly thirty minutes. My stomach grumbled at the thought of food. I wondered what Mom would be making and prayed it was something actually edible, because I was starved.

Mom's little Nissan was parked in the driveway. I pulled in behind it and cut the engine of my Jeep. Reaching behind me, I grabbed my duffle bag from the backseat and climbed out. The first step to the porch was bowing up at one end. It creaked when I stepped on it, reminding me that I needed to fix it before I left this time. I was by no means a carpenter, but I could fix just about anything...with the help of Google and a few tutorials to walk me through. At least, I thought I could.

Mom was in the kitchen, her dark hair pulled back from her face in a low ponytail. She was stirring something in a large pot with one hand while the other was placed on her hip. Music filled the house— _The Eagles, Hotel California_ —from the little iPod docking station I'd bought her last year for Christmas. It was still strange to think of my mom as actually owning and using an iPod.

"Hey, how was the trip?" she asked. A large smile broke out on her face and I was instantly glad that I'd come home tonight. "You got here at just the right time. Dinner will be ready in about five."

"The trip was good. Easy," I said. I closed the kitchen door behind me and moved to her side. "Whatcha cookin'?"

"Spaghetti."

"Smells good." I inhaled and smiled. I honestly couldn't remember the last time I'd had spaghetti.

"Thanks," she beamed.

Hoisting my duffle bag up higher on my shoulder, I headed toward my room at the back of the house. The music grew quieter and Mom's singing softer. I tossed the bag on my bed and pulled my cell from my pocket. I had to see if Blaire had responded yet, the suspense was killing me.

As soon as Facebook uploaded, I realized she'd left me a message.

**Sorry. I meant to let you know earlier that I'll be there tomorrow night. The week has fried my brain, I blame my lack of responding to stress from finals. See you there at eight?**

I couldn't help the shit-eating grin that spread on my face after reading her message.

**I get it. I'm burned out this week, too. Eight sounds like a fine time to unwind and destress with you. See you at the bar.**

Not the best I could come up with, but it would work. Shoving my phone back into my pocket, I headed down the hall to eat dinner with my mom.

## Chapter 13

# Blaire

"It's Friday night, finals are over, and you don't have the excuse of being sick to not come out with us tonight," Paige said. She flopped down on the couch beside me. She'd been trying to get me to agree to partying at Shooters tonight with her, Lauren, and Craig. "Please."

Paige stuck out her bottom lip and batted her heavily made-up eyes at me. As usual, she was stunning. Her dark hair had been curled into soft ringlets, her makeup was expertly done, and her outfit accentuated her features precisely. Tonight she wore a pair of dark skinny jeans, red heels, and a loose-fitting top that hung off her right shoulder and matched the color of her shoes dead on.

Letting out a sigh, I cut my eyes to her. "Yes, it's Friday, finals are over, and I'm not sick, but that doesn't mean I feel like going out tonight. I'm tired. This week was hell."

"You're not tired and yes, this week was hell—all the more reason to unwind with a few drinks and dance the built-up misery from the week away," she insisted.

"I'm going out tomorrow night—in fact, I'm going to the same place. One night of partying at Shooters will be plenty for me. I really just need to catch up on some sleep."

Paige gave me a disgusted look. "Are you serious right now? You are not staying home tonight to _sleep_. Put on a cute outfit and strap some heels on. You . Are. Going. Out." She grabbed my arm to tug me back to my room. I laughed and allowed it.

"All right, I'll come. But I mean it when I say I'm not staying long and I'm only having two drinks, tops," I said with as much authority as I could manage.

Paige smiled and clapped her hands, obviously only hearing the part where I'd said I would come. She was across the room and flipping through my clothes in seconds. "Ohh, when did you get this hot little number?" she asked.

She pulled out the dress I'd bought for my date—or non-date, whatever the case may be—with Jason tomorrow night. It was a strapless yellow dress that fell to about an inch above my knees and was made from a silky polyester fabric. It was fairly simple, but when paired with the cute set of earrings I'd bought and my strappy wedge sandals I figured it would look hot.

"That's what I bought the other day for my thing with Jason tomorrow night," I said. My words came out sounding off and I wondered if Paige would pick up on the nervousness present in them.

"Thing?" She raised an eyebrow at me. Obviously she'd skipped over the nerves that rang clearly in my voice and moved right on to the description I'd chosen.

I nodded. "Yes, _thing_. I'm not sure what it is—a date, a non-date with an old high school friend, a casual meeting?"

"Oh it's a date, definitely a date."

"What makes you so sure?"

She held up the dress again. "This dress makes it a date. You went out and bought something new and sexy. Plus, when was Jason Bryant ever your high school friend and who does _casual meetings_? That doesn't even make sense to me."

Dropping my eyes to the hardwood flooring of my room, I shrugged a shoulder and tucked a few strands of my hair behind my ear that had fallen free. "Okay, point made. I guess it's a date."

It felt so odd to say those words out loud and know that it was with Jason Bryant of all people.

"So...all of this is out of the question." She quickly dismissed everything in my closet. "Let's head to my room and I'll find you something."

"As long as it's not wild and bold like those shoes you wore last weekend. And no animal prints," I said. I followed her down the hall and into her room.

Paige had a closet stuffed full of clothing. To say that she had an entire department store in there would not be an understatement. How she managed to organize and fit it all in the tiny space still baffled me. Why she wasn't going to school for fashion or business management so she could open up her own clothing store in town boggled my mind as well. I'd have to mention the idea to her sometime, when she wasn't so wrapped up in finding me the perfect outfit for tonight and would actually listen to the words coming from my mouth.

I sat on her bed and watched her rummage through her clothes frantically. "How much time do I have to get ready?" I asked.

"About fifteen minutes," she said. "Lauren will be walking through the door any second and Craig in about fifteen. He was passing that bookstore you like when I got off the phone with him."

"I guess I'd better go do my makeup then," I said, standing.

"I have the perfect outfit!" Paige suddenly shouted. "Bam, look at this! I forgot I even had this top!" She came out of her closet holding a peach-colored shirt in front of her. It had a low-cut neckline and looked to be fairly tight fitting. There were tiny rhinestones or sequins trimming the neckline. One side of the top had a wide strap, while the other was a thin spaghetti strap.

It was definitely a Paige shirt.

"Here, wear this. Let's pair it with some skinny jeans or a cute pair of shorts." She tossed the shirt to me and started toward my room to riffle through my jeans and shorts.

I could wear any of her tops and most of her dresses, but Paige was a tad shorter than I was, so sharing jeans or shorts was out of the question. The alarm on my cell started going off and I raced to my dresser to retrieve it. I left Paige in my room to do her thing and headed to the kitchen for my pills and a glass of water. If I didn't set the alarm on my phone as a reminder, I swear I'd never remember to take my birth control pills. I was awesome at remembering anything else besides that on my own. Maybe it was because lately, I'd hardly done anything that would require the use of pregnancy prevention.

Pushing the little pill from its compact container, I grabbed a glass from the cabinet and filled it with tap water. Popping the pill in my mouth, I took a sip of water and swallowed. One down and one to go. Lauren walked through the front door without knocking like usual, startling me.

"Knock, knock, ladies," she said.

"Hey," I called to her.

She was dressed in a blue tank top that was one size too small and a pair of skinny jeans with some killer hooker heels. Necklaces of all sizes hung around her neck, draping over her cleavage and drawing attention to her girls. Multiple bracelets jingled on her right wrist. She looked amazing.

Twisting the cap on the bottle of antibiotics I'd gotten from the doctor, I dumped one in my hand and popped it into my mouth. Taking a swig of water, I swallowed and winced as I felt the horse pill scrape against my throat on its way down. I'd be glad when those were gone. If the bottle hadn't clearly said to take _all_ pills then I wouldn't, because my sinus infection was obviously long gone by now and I felt fine. One more day, I reminded myself, and then they're completely gone.

"Lauren, what are you wearing tonight?" Paige asked. She hurried down the hall in her heels to look for herself without waiting on Lauren to answer. "All right, skinny jeans it is. Blaire, come on!"

Setting my glass on the counter, I followed after Paige, flashing Lauren a smile along the way.

"Oh, no, Paige is in the matching mood. I can see it in her eyes," Lauren said. "We'll all be matchy-matchy tonight with our outfits."

"And? We'll all look hot so what's the problem?" Paige asked. She tossed the top she'd found in her closet at me, along with a pair of faded skinny jeans. "Put this on."

Three minutes later I was dressed in the outfit selected by my self-appointed fashion advisor and strapping on the wedge shoes I'd planned on wearing tomorrow night. Paige came at me with some dangly silver earrings and a chunky beaded bracelet. I took them from her and put them on quickly.

"Next you need to fix your makeup and brush that hair," she said.

A knock sounded at the front door and I couldn't have been happier. Craig was here, now Paige would chill out. Her fashion mission was complete and her new man was here. The night was about to begin.

Shooters was your typical, run-of-the-mill college bar. It was filled with girls willing to do nearly anything for a free drink and guys who were either arrogant asses or had hit their prime in high school and hadn't realized it yet. Inside was nothing spectacular—the walls were wood paneling but had been painted a shade of dark brown, large red tiles made up the floor, and colorful signs advertising the beers and liquors behind the bar lit the place along with a few low-hung lights draped around the ceiling by thick chains.

"So, what are we drinking tonight, ladies? I'll buy the first round of whatever it is," Craig said.

We'd all rode together in his sleek, black-and-chrome Ford Explorer. It was white-glove clean. Normally this wouldn't be something that would put me off about a guy—after all, it was rare to find one who seemed to love to clean up after himself—but there was something off about his O.C.D. ways that irked me and I couldn't explain. I just didn't care for the guy, plain and simple.

"Lemon Drops?" Lauren asked. Her gaze shifted from Paige to me.

"Yes!" Paige shouted with a little more enthusiasm than was needed to get her point across.

I nodded. "Yeah, I'll take one of those."

Lemon Drops were about the only vodka drink I could handle. They were our girls' night out drink of choice when we went.

"Lemon Drops it is then," Craig said. His brown eyes lit up and a mischievous grin twisted at his lips. He faced the bartender and held up a hand. "Three Lemon Drops and one shot of Bacardi Gold, please."

Once the tall, slender shot glass, filled with a light yellowish color, was in my hand I felt a little more at ease in being here. The four of us held out our glasses for a toast.

"To finals week coming to an end and summer break to a beginning!" Craig shouted.

Others around us hooted and hollered, agreeing to his toast, as we clinked our glasses together. The sugar-crusted rim touched my lips and the cool contents splashed against my tongue as I took my first sip. Tonight might be bearable, as long I had one of these in my hand.

## Chapter 14

# Jason

Dinner with Mom had been nice. The only thing on the menu that managed to get burnt was the garlic bread. Once she'd pulled it out of the oven all I could do was laugh. I'd known right away it was a lost cause and that I damn sure wasn't eating that charred shit.

We'd gone over the long list of repairs I was going to have to do at Gramps' place before we could put it on the market. I'd made a mental note of which ones I knew how to do and which I didn't. Google would be my best friend throughout the majority of the projects. Mom didn't know that, though. If she did, she'd want to hire someone to do them all and I knew she couldn't afford that. She didn't need the added stress either. Besides, how hard could it be to follow a few how-to sites and get everything done on my own?

After dinner Mom surprised me with a six pack of beer she'd tucked away in the back of the fridge.

"Here," she said, holding them out to me.

"What's this for?" I asked. I took them from her and twisted the cap off one.

She shrugged and started to put up the salvageable food from our dinner. "A thank you of sorts, for helping out with the house and giving up your first night of college freedom of the year to spend with me."

I chuckled. "You didn't have to buy me beer, Mom. I don't mind doing any of those things and it's not like this is my freshman year of college or something. It's just the beginning of another summer break. No big deal."

I took a swig of the beer in my hand and felt tiny pricks of guilt stab at my heart for having thought coming here a night early was an inconvenience earlier.

"Eh." She waved a hand at me. I knew then that the conversation was over. "So, what are your plans for the rest of the night? Are you headed out on the town or what?"

"Nothing," I said. "I'm just gonna hang here tonight. It's been one hell of a week. I could actually use some sleep."

"I know the feeling." She grabbed a rag off the counter and began wiping up where the sauce had splattered across the stove. She'd cooked on high heat, as always. "I think I'm going to turn in myself. We had a new shipment of clothes come in today and I spent hours sorting through them all. My back is killing me." Kissing me on the cheek, she turned and headed in the direction of her room.

I downed the rest of my beer, grabbed another one, and set the rest back in the fridge. Making my way to the couch, I turned on the TV and began flipping through the channels. After an hour had passed and I'd managed to watch a few minutes of every station we got, I cut the TV off and tossed the remote on the coffee table.

The house was too quiet.

Grabbing the rest of the beers from the fridge and the list Mom had gone over with me earlier, I headed outside to sit on the tiny back porch. Fishing in my front pocket for my phone, I pulled it out and began to Google the things I needed to do and didn't know how. I emailed myself tutorials and how-to instructions for all of them. By the time I was done I'd drank all six beers and was feeling pretty nice, but definitely wasn't ready to stop.

Scrolling through my list of contacts, I paused when I came to Matt's name. It was close to midnight. I wasn't sure if he would be around to answer my call, but I tried him anyway. It rang five times before he picked up.

"Jason, what's up?" he answered. Music played in the background from wherever he was at.

"Nothing, man. I'm back in town for a few days, figured I'd give you a shout and see what was going on?"

The song I'd heard playing in the background faded out and a new one came on in its place. It was more upbeat than the last. People laughing and talking grew louder. Where was he? Another party?

"Not much, it's Coldcreek, or did you forget?" he chuckled. "I'm down here at Blue's, wanna come have a few drinks with me?"

Blue's was one of two bars Coldcreek had. Out of the two, Blue's was the most decent. Well, as decent as you could get being in the same parking lot as a Domino's. "I've already had a few, but I guess I could swing by there for a bit."

"How about I have Marla come pick you up?"

"Marla?" I asked. Surly he wasn't talking about the same Marla I had in mind.

"Yeah, Marla Danes," he said. Someone in the background started yelling and Matt laughed. The place sounded like fun. "She's my D.D. for the night. You don't mind if she gives me a ride to get you, do you? I know y'all have history or some shit."

Marla Danes. That was a name I hadn't heard in a long time. Big blue eyes and red glossy lips flashed through my mind at the thought of her. She'd been my first. I'd caught her skinny dipping once at Lake Chapman when we were about fourteen. I was supposed to meet Matt out there to go fishing that afternoon, but he'd caught the stomach bug so I'd gone alone and there she'd been, in all of her tanned skin glory. I'd stood off to the side, behind some shrubs and bushes, watching her swim gracefully through the water. She'd flipped onto her back and began gliding along the top of the water, her perky boobs pointing up at the sky. To this day I still can't figure out how she knew someone was watching her, but she had. And when she called me out on it and I strutted from behind my hiding spot, her red glossy lips had twisted into a wicked smile and her big blue eyes had lit up. I knew right then that Marla Danes was going to have her way with me and I knew I wouldn't even put up a fight.

"Nah, that's fine," I said. "I'll be sitting out front."

"We'll be there in a few."

I sat outside beneath the stars, enjoying the cool night breeze while waiting on Matt and Marla. After about fifteen minutes, I pulled my cell out and checked to see if he'd sent me a message. Nothing. Headlights bounced around the corner and loud music blared from the speakers of a car as it came to a slow roll in front of me.

"Hop in," Matt shouted out his window.

Opening the door behind him, I slid into the backseat. There were articles of clothing for every season, shoes, crumpled papers, and empty boxes of cigarettes littering the floorboard and backseat. I pulled a bubble-gum pink sweater from under my ass and tossed it to the side. The dome light was still on and in it I caught sight of Marla's platinum-blonde curls shining brightly from the driver's seat. My eyes drifted to the rearview mirror and locked with hers. They were still just as big and blue as I'd remembered.

"Hey, sugar," she said. She held a lit cigarette in her hand and took a puff. She tipped her head back and exhaled at the mirror. The smoke left her red glossy lips in swirls, floating to the ceiling of the car and dispersing into nothing. "You can move any of that shit around back there to get it out of your way. Sorry my car is such a mess."

Her voice was familiar and raspy. She was just like I'd remembered...except sexier. I couldn't believe this was who'd taken my virginity, like she'd been doing me a favor and never thought twice about it. We never dated after, but we had sex about four times more. Each time was just sex and nothing more. Practice made perfect was what she'd always said. I'd bet that Marla Danes was as close to perfect in bed as any girl could get.

Marla licked her ruby red lips and winked at me in the mirror. I grinned and then glanced at Matt. I didn't know if they were together and I didn't want him pissed at me.

"So, Blue's, huh? That place still the hangout around here?" I asked.

"Yup," Matt said. If he had a problem with the looks Marla was giving me—and that I was undoubtedly giving her—he didn't show it. "Ready for a little fun?" He turned around to glance at me.

"Yeah, I am actually."

"That's my boy," Matt said.

Marla shifted her crappy little beater into drive and whipped the car around, pulling a U-turn right in the middle of the street. Her lead foot pressed the gas to the floor and Matt yelled out a little whoop into the night.

It was like high school all over again, and in this moment, I was fine with that.

The drive from my house to Blue's wasn't but fifteen minutes or so. We'd listened to some rock band I'd never heard before the entire way. I'd forgotten how much of a rocker chick Marla was. She had the face of a fucking angel, but her insides were as wicked as they came.

Marla swerved into the tiny parking lot. She made her own parking space on the bold yellow lines painted across the asphalt that showed where you weren't allowed to park because you would block the door. I smirked and shook my head. Marla hadn't changed a damn bit in the three years I'd been gone—she still didn't think the rules applied to her. With a face like that and a body to match, I could see where sometimes they probably didn't.

Matt placed his arm over my shoulder when I stepped out of the car. "Come on. Let me buy you a shot."

"I'll take you up on that offer," I said, closing the car door as we walked away.

Blue's was dark and smelled of stale cigarettes and sweat. Music blasted from some speakers in the ceiling; it mixed with people talking and glasses clinking together. A guy dressed in tight Wranglers and a black T-shirt stopped me by placing a hand on my chest before I could get much farther inside.

"License, please," he said. His voice was gruff and firm. He obviously took this job seriously.

"He's with us; relax, Duke," Matt said.

"Don't matter," Duke said, his hand still placed firmly against my chest. "Still gotta see his license."

"What the fuck, man? Can't you clearly see from looking at him that he's at least twenty-one? Jesus." Matt's eyes bugged out from his irritation and his hands flailed wildly.

"It's cool, chill," I said to Matt. Pushing big Duke's hand off my chest, I reached into my back pocket for my wallet and slid out my I.D. "Here you go."

Duke glanced at it and then eyeballed me. "All right," he said and nodded for me to enter.

"I fucking hate that loser. He's got such a power trip," Matt said. I was grateful for all the noise of the place, because I was pretty sure if Duke heard him we would have been thrown out. "I swear he flunked out of the Police Academy or some shit and the only job he could find to fill his freakish power trip void was at this dump."

I shook my head. "Forget about it and buy me that shot you were talking about earlier."

Matt turned to look at me once we reached the bar. "What do you want? And no pussy shot either... Get something stout."

Pulling out a stool, I sat and glanced at the bottles lining the back wall. What did he think was a pussy shot? Marla sat on the stool between us, facing the dance floor. She rested her elbows on the counter and leaned back, crossing her long, tanned legs.

"I'll take a Jack," I said. "Straight."

"Right on." Matt smirked. Obviously he liked my choice. "Yo, Phil, over here."

The bartender stalked our way. He was tall with slicked-back hair and a plain white T-shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He looked like someone from a fifties movie, but the look suited him well.

"What can I get ya, Matt?" Phil asked.

"Two Jacks, straight, and..." Matt turned to Marla. "What do you want, babe? We'll be here for a while, one drink won't hurt you to drive."

Babe? They must be together.

"You know what I like." She grinned up at him.

"And one Sex on the Beach," Matt added to complete our order.

"That's right," Marla said. "Any drink with the word sex in it has got to be good." She flicked her eyes to mine and licked her plump lips. Damn, this woman was a vixen.

Matt slammed my shot down in front of me, pulling my attention away from Marla. "Drink," he demanded.

"Thanks, man," I said.

Matt clinked his glass to mine and then Marla joined in.

"To the good times resting at the bottom of our glasses," Marla said. Her eyes shifted to mine and her teeth scraped against her bottom lip. "And then some."

Putting the shot glass to my lips, I tipped my head back and swallowed the burning liquid inside.

Matt slammed his empty glass on the bar and smacked his hands down beside it. "Damn, that definitely wasn't a pussy shot."

Marla stood and sashayed across the room.

Matt took the seat she'd been sitting in beside me. "She is one fine piece of ass."

"Yeah," I agreed. There was a fine line here I was treading on. I didn't know if they were an item or not and I didn't want to cause any drama. "So, you two together now?" I asked, hoping it didn't sound like I was interested.

I wasn't. Not really.

Matt chuckled. "Nah, you know how Marla is. She'll never be any guy's girl. She wants what she wants and that's all there is to it."

It was true. Very true.

"Why, you interested in her again?" Matt asked with a shit-eating grin. "Wanna show her all that you've learned over the years?"

I shook my head. "No, just curious."

"Right," he laughed like he didn't believe me.

"You ready for another?" I asked, just to change the subject.

"You buyin'?"

"Yup."

"Then hell yeah I'm ready," Matt said.

After our third shot of Jack each, Marla finally made her way back over. She sat down in my lap and handed her phone to Matt. I placed a hand on her hip and one on her thigh. She wiggled and adjusted my hands, putting one under her knee and the other cupping her ass.

"I want a picture of Jason and me, will you take one for me?" she asked Matt.

Matt didn't say no. He stood in front of us and held the phone up. "Say cheese."

Marla wrapped one arm around my neck, kicked one leg out, and forced me to look at her with her other hand. Then she kissed me. The flash from her phone went off more than once as the kiss continued.

## Chapter 15

# Blaire

Someone hurling in the bathroom down the hall was what I woke to. The sun was up, blaring through the wooden slats of my blinds, harsh and unsympathetic to my situation. Hearing the distinctive splat followed by groaning, I slipped out of bed and headed in that direction. My head was killing me, pounding in sync with my heartbeat. My throat was dry and scratchy.

Knocking lightly on the bathroom door, because my head wouldn't tolerate anything too loud at the moment, I waited for whoever was inside to respond.

"Ugh, just a minute," Paige grumbled.

"Are you okay?" I asked. Opening the door, now that I knew who was inside, I moved across the room to sit on the edge of the tub. I didn't think my legs could support me for much longer.

Paige pulled the toilet lid down and extended her arm so she could lay on it across the top. She was still wearing the clothes she'd worn last night. Her hair was twisted up into a messy bun and the fine hairs along the nape of her neck were drenched with sweat.

"No, I'm not okay. I've been puking my guts out for hours now," she moaned. "I had way too much to drink last night."

"Me too," I muttered, thankful I hadn't had enough to throw up.

"God, I just wish I could stop. I'm so tired and I really don't want Craig to see me this way."

Craig. I'd forgotten about him; he'd stayed the night. I wondered if they'd done anything last night. I might think he was an arrogant ass, but it didn't stop me from wanting the details of my best friend's love life.

"I'm sure he'll understand," I said, trying to reassure her. "He's probably been in the same position before."

"Still, it's like our first hangout date and here I am, puking because I couldn't handle my shit. Real sexy..."

A slight muffled sound came from her and I realized, after a moment of talking to myself, that she'd passed out against the toilet.

Smiling at the situation, I fought the temptation to run to my room and grab my phone so I could document her at such an inapt time—like I was positive she would do if the shoe were on the other foot—and made my way to the kitchen instead. If I wanted this headache to go away then I needed some aspirin and orange juice, maybe even a piece of toast. Lauren was still zonked out on the couch. She hadn't wanted to drive home last night, which I thought was smart, considering how many Lemon Drops we'd pounded back. Images of the previous night invaded my mind, causing me to laugh out loud at the way we'd all behaved. I hadn't let loose like that in a long time.

Lauren had given some guy named Jimmy Moon her number. Paige had danced like a stripper and Craig was her pole. And I'd danced with some guy I didn't know, who oddly enough looked similar to Jason. The night had been eventful, to say the least.

Grabbing a cup from in the cabinet, I poured myself a tall glass of orange juice. Lauren stirred on the couch and I froze, hoping I didn't wake her.

"Oh my God, I got hammered last night," she said suddenly. "Please tell Paige to never get us a D.D. again."

I laughed. Most of the time if we went out either Lauren or I was the D.D. for the night. Paige had a license and a car, but she rarely ever drove anywhere. If we were going out, she preferred to drink without worry.

"I know how you feel," I said. "Want some aspirin?"

"Honey, I don't even think aspirin would touch what's going on inside my head right now."

"Orange juice?" I asked.

Lauren sat up. Her blondish hair was a mess. I grabbed the aspirin bottle from the cabinet beside the sink and poured one in my hand.

"Is Paige all right? She was wasted last night," Lauren asked.

I shook my head. "No, she's passed out against the toilet."

Lauren laughed. "I figured she would be. Did you see the way she was dancing?"

"I know, complete stripper. Craig seemed to like it though."

"I did," Craig said. He stood in the hallway. I hadn't even known he was awake. "She has some nice moves."

Lauren smirked at him. "You should see her dace when she's sober. The girl could give strippers a run for their money."

"Really?" Craig's eyes lit up.

Lauren nodded. "Yeah, I should know... She learned everything from me."

Grabbing a slice of bread from the bag on the counter, I popped it into the toaster and cast a quick glance at Craig. He seemed to be lost in his thoughts. I wondered if they were of Lauren dancing or of Paige.

Craig's eyes shifted to mine. "Should I leave some water or something by Paige before I leave? I've got someplace I need to be in a bit."

"Umm, water, I guess, and maybe an aspirin," I said.

"Got it." He winked, then came around the counter to where I stood and took the little bottle. "Where are your cups?"

I pointed him in the right direction. "There."

"Thanks," he said.

I watched him as he got down a glass and filled it with tap water for Paige. He was cute. I could see what Paige saw in him. He had dirty-blond hair, brown eyes, and a dimple in the center of his chin. He didn't have massive muscles, but he wasn't pudgy or a wimp either. He was somewhere in between.

Lauren poured herself a glass of orange juice around the two of us. My kitchen was too small for this many people crammed in here all at once. We were practically rubbing elbows.

"I'll set this in there with her and then I gotta go," Craig said. He darted down the hall.

"Wonder where he has to be so quick-like?" Lauren asked. She'd read my mind, because I'd been thinking the exact same thing.

"I don't know, seems to be pretty important. He's said he has to go more than once," I said.

"Paige will be pissed when she wakes up. She'll think he thought she was disgusting or something," Lauren muttered.

"I know." I frowned. I'd have some explaining to do when she woke. She'd grill me for hours, I was sure.

I laid around for most of the day, watching movies and eating junk food with Paige and Lauren. I'd dozed off a few times, catching up on the sleep I'd missed the previous night. When six o'clock rolled around I was already starting to spazz out some. It had been a while since I'd been on a date. I always seemed to find the weirdoes and the sketchy ones, never the Prince Charming type. Sometimes I wondered if that type even existed. Maybe those guys were just a product of books and movies created by women who fantasized about how they really wished the men in their life were.

When I thought back to my childhood and remembered my parents' relationship firsthand, the qualities of Prince Charming weren't present at all. Dad never once remembered an anniversary on his own. He only remembered Mom's birthday and to get her a Christmas present because of Bonnie and me. He hardly ever cooked or cleaned. In fact, I don't think at any point in my childhood did I ever see him even switch out a load of laundry.

And then there was Bonnie's relationship with Brice—no Prince Charming there either. He never appreciated the things she did for him. That was one of the major complaints she always seemed to have—that and the fact that he didn't spend as much quality time with Tinley as she would like to see.

Men. They sucked. So why was I spazzing about a date with Jason? I knew this wouldn't go anywhere. I also knew he was probably cool as a cucumber about the entire thing tonight. There was no promise for a long-term relationship. He lived in Tennessee. Why he was here I didn't know, but I didn't think his stay would be permanent.

Pulling the yellow dress I'd bought from my closet, I draped it over the edge of my bed and turned to rummage through my jewelry for something to set the dress off. Even if Jason wasn't my Prince Charming...I still wanted to wow him.

Holding a pair of pearl earrings up to the dress, I smiled. Those would look classic paired with it, and my wedge sandals would be the fun and hip addition to the outfit.

"No, no pearls," Lauren said. She stood leaning against the doorframe of my room. I hadn't even heard her walk up. "You don't want to look like Betty Crocker, you wanna look flirty and fun. Trust me."

"Betty Crocker? Pearls are not Betty Crocker," I argued.

Glancing at the combo again, I realized Lauren might be right.

"He's meeting you at a bar, not a bake sale. And you want to fuck him, not marry him." Lauren crossed the room and began to riffle through my jewelry box atop my dresser.

My cheeks heated at her words. "Jesus, don't beat around the bush."

She glanced at me with a wicked grin. "What? You know it's true. You didn't agree to go out with him to talk and get to know one another... You agreed because you want what's in his pants and you know it. I've seen him, Blaire, the guy is the definition of eye candy. If you thought about anything else other than what he'd be like in bed when you looked at him then you'd have problems."

I laughed. "Wow, sometimes I forget how blunt you can be."

"Okay, so you're going for sex vixen, not schoolteacher. Although some guys are into that, I don't think that's what he wants on a first date." She pulled out a pair of turquoise dangly earrings I'd bought last year at the flea market. "You need some flirty colors paired with that classic dress. He won't think you're a sleaze, but he won't think you're a prude either."

My stomach knotted. What had I gotten myself into with this date thing?

"I'm not going to give it up on the first date," I said. "I'm just going to have a couple of drinks with him, talk for a bit, and then head home."

"No, you're not," Lauren insisted. She locked eyes with me. "You're going to get you some of that, because Lord knows if he was interested in me I would, and get over this rut you've been in. A nice healthy dose of meaningless sex is just what you need."

Meaningless sex? I didn't do meaningless sex.

"I don't know about that." I dropped my eyes back to the dress spread out on my bed.

"Then lead him on...and then drop him at the end of the night. Either way, have a little fun." Lauren winked.

## Chapter 16

# Jason

At six thirty I decided maybe I should have offered to pick Blaire up. I sent her a Facebook message, because I didn't have her number, and wondered if she would even get it in time. Stepping into the shower to wash away the cheap bar stench of Blue's from last night and the sweat from working at Gramps' house all afternoon, I thought about the simple fact that I was meeting with Blaire tonight. I'd looked forward to this little date thing of ours for over a week now.

Last night had been fun. Marla had been awesome to hang around. Matt had been a blast, same as he used to be. And then when they'd snuck off together after an hour or so of drinks and dancing, I'd caught a ride home with a guy I used to play football with. I'd gotten home at a decent enough hour; since it wasn't my house and I didn't want to be disrespectful to my mom by coming and going at all hours of the night, I'd set the curfew of one AM for myself recently. That seemed reasonable and it was two hours past the curfew she'd given me in high school, so it still made me feel like an adult.

I hated the fact that I would practically be living here for the summer while I got all of the shit fixed at Gramps' house. If there had been furniture still there and I knew it wouldn't upset my mom, I'd simply stay there.

After towel drying myself off, I slipped on the outfit that I'd acted like a damn girl about picking out and glanced at myself in the mirror. Fuck. I needed to shave. I had a serious five o'clock shadow going on and my Phillips shaver was at the apartment. Damn it. Maybe Blaire was into the whole scruffy look; I could only hope.

I'd checked Facebook a million times in an hour. Seriously, it had to be some sort of a record. Blaire had responded to my message with a standard yes and directions. That was all I got. I wasn't sure what I'd hoped for, but that had not been it.

Driving to her place, I found myself wondering how tonight would pan out. Everything I imagined I was sure would never happen. In fact, my fantasies were just a reminder that I really needed to get laid. It had been way too damn long.

Pulling into the parking lot of her apartment complex, I glanced at my phone once more just to make sure I'd gotten the number right—3A. Inhaling deeply, I started along the little sidewalk in front of the building.

3A was easy enough to find, it was my confidence to knock on the door that wasn't. When I finally gathered up enough courage to do so, Paige was the one who answered. Was it a written rule that the actual person you were there to see never answered the door with girls? Because that's always what seemed to happen, to me at least.

"Hey," Paige said. She moved out of the way so I could squeeze past her and into the living room. "Blaire will be out in just a minute."

"Okay, thanks," I said. Could I sound more like an idiot?

I stepped inside and closed the door behind me. The apartment was nice. The walls were a shade of tan with the farthest wall being a bright red. I knew it was called an accent wall, but it seemed a little too bright and bold for my taste. I was more of a neutrals man, hence the grayish shirt I'd picked out for tonight.

"Hey, are you ready?" Blaire asked as she strutted down the hall toward me. She was dressed in a sexy little yellow dress that looked sophisticated and chic on her. There were some long necklaces that came right where I was sure her cleavage would be and she wore some strappy shoes with a wedge heel that made her legs look long and lean.

Hot was not even a word I would use to describe her—scorching was more like it.

"Yeah," I said.

Blaire grabbed her purse off the table by the front door, said her goodbyes to her two friends, and then I had my hand at the small of her back, guiding her out the door.

"You look amazing," I commented once were outside.

Some might consider that a line, and maybe I'd used it in the past as that a time or two, but this time it wasn't. It was the truth. Walking her to my Jeep, I was suddenly grateful I'd remembered to put the soft top on, because I would hate for her perfect looks to get messed up on the ride to Shooters from the wind. Blaire looked like perfection to me right now.

"Thanks," she said.

She went straight to the passenger side door and opened it without waiting on me to do so for her. Obviously she wasn't into the whole male chivalry thing. I could get down with that, I guess. I cranked my Jeep and shifted into reverse, my engine whining as I backed up. Shifting into drive with a little force, I flicked the dial on the volume of the radio and some rap song blasted through the speakers. It was better to fill the silence before it became palpable. Those were my thoughts on it, anyway.

When we reached Shooters, I found the closest parking space to the door I could. Blaire got out as soon as I cut the engine, again without me having the chance to open the door for her. Was she really that against chivalry or did she just not want to be here? Damn it, was this a forced pity date? Fuck. Blaire Hayes wasn't the sweetheart from high school I'd figured she still was.

She paused at the front of my Jeep. "I love that color," she said, motioning toward it.

"Thanks."

We walked to the door of Shooters side by side. The music filtered through the thin glass and I cringed at how this night was not going the way I wanted it to so far. Blaire was making me nervous—normally I didn't do nervous. Not that I was one of those arrogant guys who thought they were God's gift... I was just a little more confident in myself was all.

Not in the presence of Blaire, it seemed. I needed a drink...some liquid courage.

I reached for the door and pulled it open, allowing her to step in before me. Call me a tad old-fashioned, but I at least thought the guy should open the damn door to a place for the girl... Maybe not the car door, that looked a little whipped and creeper-like, but to a place of business, yes.

"Oh. Thanks." She said the words as though my actions had surprised her.

"What?" I smirked. "Didn't think I had a chivalrous bone in my body? I have a few."

She laughed and began toying with the strap to her little wrist-purse thingy. It was like a cell phone case and a wallet combined. I bet she looked goofy as shit talking into the phone with a wallet pressed to her ear. I secretly hoped she got to use it in my presence tonight after we'd had a few drinks so I could laugh at her without the fear of pissing her off.

After showing our I.D.s at the door, we crossed the oversized red tile floor to the wooden bar against the back wall. Shooters. I'd come here a few times when I was eighteen. My hand had been stamped with that awful X of doom and my horrible fake I.D. had been shredded in front of me. Didn't stop me, I'd still gone into the bathroom and scraped at the back of my hand until it was raw trying to get that damn X off. I hadn't succeeded.

Glancing around, I realized the place hadn't changed much. There was still the same crowd hanging here, the same music playing, the same neon lights hung and the same painted wood paneling walls framed in the place. Shooters wasn't run-down or nasty by any means, but the coolest thing about this bar was its name.

"So, what do you want to drink?" I asked as we both took a seat at the bar.

Blaire set her little wrist-purse down and flicked her big blue eyes my way. "What are you having?"

"A shot of Captain Morgan." I needed something to get over this nervousness building in my stomach. "Want one?"

Her nose scrunched up in a cute little way at the thought. "No, I'm not much of a straight liquor person. Besides, don't you think you're starting out a little strong?"

Swiping a peanut shell someone had cracked and left on the bar to the floor, I glanced at her sideways. "Beer before liquor, never sicker. Liquor before beer, never fear," I said, adding a little cockiness to my tone for good measure. "We'll be here for a while anyway, don't you think?"

That was my nonchalant way of figuring out if this had been a forced pity date. If she answered with a "maybe" or an "I don't know," then it was. But if she answered with a "could be" or an "I guess you're right," then things were okay and I was just being paranoid.

"I guess you're right." She smiled. My lips twisted to mirror hers and my heart thumped triumphantly. "I'll take a Long Island iced tea."

Waving the bartender down, I handed him a twenty, told him to keep any change, and then ordered our drinks. I'd learned a while ago that tipping the bartender first gave you stouter drinks and made him, or on occasion her, your friend for the night. Once the shot glass of liquid fire was placed in front of me, I picked it up and held it out to clink Blaire's cup for a toast.

"To tonight," I said. It was all I could come up with and all that seemed to matter. Tonight.

She grinned and nodded. "To tonight."

Her tongue darted out and sucked the little thin straw from her glass into her mouth. I felt a slight spasm begin to stir in my shorts at the sight. Tipping my shot glass back, I let the burn of alcohol slip down my throat and kill that spasm before it strengthened.

"Another," I called to the bartender. My eyes shifted to Blaire. "And then I'll have one beer and I'm done for the night. I know I still have to drive you home." I winked at her.

She grinned and looked away, chewing on the little straw still. "I didn't say anything."

"You didn't have to. It's written all over your face."

"Oh, right." She set her glass down in front of her and leaned against the bar on her elbows. "I forgot you're a psychology major for a second. Have you been trying to read me tonight, Mr. Bryant?"

I grinned and downed the rum in front of me. The way she'd said "Mr. Bryant" made the spasm stir again in my shorts. "It's quite possible."

Her eyes widened at my admittance and I noticed a little twinkle of mockery flash in them. "And what have you learned so far?" she asked.

Licking my bottom lip, tasting the taint of rum there, I glanced at her glass, taking note of how much she'd already had to drink. It was half empty—or half full, depending on how you viewed such things. Judging from her weight and how I knew she was a studious shut-in, not to mention most definitely the type to be a workaholic, she was probably feeling pretty tipsy right about now. The fact that the bartender had poured her a strong one to start, because I'd given him a hefty tip beforehand, added to this theory of mine.

"That you need to loosen up and have a little fun." I locked eyes with her and prayed like hell she wouldn't slap me for what I was about to say. "And that you need to get laid, because it's been forever."

Her jaw dropped. I chuckled at her expression and waved the bartender over so I could order a beer. Blaire reached for her drink and sucked down a few swigs without responding. Her cheeks were growing pink under the strange lights of the bar. I'd embarrassed her. That must mean I'd been dead on.

"You got all of that from the little bit we've been sitting here?" she asked.

"I'll take a Land Shark, please," I told the bartender. When the guy handed it to me, I twisted the cap off and faced Blaire. "Yeah."

She chuckled and cast her eyes down to her drink. "You're going to be a great shrink one day."

## Chapter 17

# Blaire

How the hell had he gathered that last part? Did I have a sticker on my forehead that said _it's been months since I've been touched by a guy?_

Jesus, Jason Bryant was _so_ out of my league.

Running a hand through my hair, I finished off my drink. If the conversation was going to continue in the direction it was headed, then I needed way more alcohol in my system. Pushing my empty glass away, I waved to the bartender, ready to order another.

"I'll get it for you," Jason said with a small smile. "I didn't ask you out so you could buy your own drinks...or to embarrass you for that matter. I'm sorry. Sometimes this analytical side of me takes over. I notice way too much about people and forget to filer what I say."

The bashful little smile on his face tugged at my heart, causing it to pitter-patter in my chest faster than it should. Was that a line? If it was, it was smooth. My eyes trailed over him, taking in everything about him. The gray collared T-shirt he wore was tight in all the right places. His khaki cargo shorts were the right amount of baggy and his flip-flops screamed casual sexiness. He gave off a laid-back vibe and I loved it.

The bartender came over with another Long Island for me. Jason handed him a crisp bill from in his wallet. I took a sip and watched as he lifted his ass up and tucked the wallet back into his back pocket.

"Don't worry about it," I said, forcing my eyes away from the muscles I could see shifting and flexing in his forearm while he played with the cap from his beer. "I was a little embarrassed, but only because what you said is true. I'm fine now."

I wanted to smack myself. Why the hell did I just flat-out admit that to him? What I'd said before had been enough; there was no reason for me to add to it. Heat crept along my neck. I'd look like I was having an allergic reaction in a matter of seconds. Great.

"Maybe this will lift your embarrassment some: it's been a while for me, too," he said.

This new knowledge he'd openly offered floored me. His eyes locked with mine as he brought his beer to his perfect lips for a swig. I watched as his Adam's apple bobbed from the action.

"Why?" The question formed in my head, but I had no intentions of actually saying it aloud, and most definitely not in such a dumbfounded tone. Rich laughter rumbled through his chest and his head tipped back in the process. A grin twisted at my lips, one I couldn't suppress no matter how hard I tried. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked. It's not my place." I forced my eyes to look anywhere except at him as I shook my head.

"No, it's okay," he said, containing himself. "I just can't get over how shocked you seem by my confession."

I took a sip of my drink. "You just don't seem like the type to have any dry spells. If I remember correctly, you didn't have that problem in high school either, and I can't imagine it forming in college of all places."

Hadn't meant to say that one aloud either. What the hell was in this drink, a loose lips amplifier?

"People change," he said. "You did."

"How so?"

"You've gotten more beautiful, for starters."

His words made my stomach flutter and my heart pound. That was most definitely a line...but I liked it. Jason straightened his back and downed the rest of his beer. Banging the empty bottle against the bar as he set it back down, he stood and held out a hand to me.

"Let's dance," he said.

Taking a large swig of my drink, I place my hand in his. He picked my wristlet off the counter and crammed it into the oversized side pocket of his shorts. "Do you actually talk with that thing pressed to your ear?"

I nodded. "Yeah, it's like the best invention ever—a cell-phone case and a wallet combined in one. Now I don't have to lug my big-ass purse around wherever I go."

"That's hilarious." He grinned. "I hope I get to see it in action tonight at some point."

For the first time since I'd bought the thing, I questioned its functionality. Maybe I did look stupid with it pressed against my ear. A chuckle escaped me as we walked out to the mini dance floor.

"What's so funny?" Jason asked. His lips nearly brushed against my ear in his effort to have me hear his words clearly. "Is your drink catching up with you?"

"That and the fact that I've always been so against using a Bluetooth because I didn't want to look like a moron talking to myself...but then I bought a wallet that fits my phone inside and talk to it instead." I laughed.

The giggles that bellowed from me now were unstoppable. My drink had caught up with me. Surely Jason thought I was a nut bag by now, either that or that I was the world's cheapest drunk. Containing myself, I finished the remaining inch of drink resting in the bottom of my cup and then walked to a trash can close by.

"Funny thing, I feel the same way about those stupid Bluetooth things. I always think people are nuts when I see them talking to themselves in the store...then they either turn and I can see the doodad in their ear or the wires hanging down from the earbuds and that's when I know." His lips brushed against my ear this time and a shiver slid through me at the sensation.

Lauren's words from earlier replayed in my mind— _you didn't agree to go out with him to talk and get to know one another... You agreed because you want what's in his pants and you know it_ —and I gave into the sensation, the alcohol, and the night.

Slipping my hands along his forearms and up his biceps, I smiled up at him and realized one thing: I am a grown-ass woman and if I want to have a one-night stand, then I can.

A fast-paced song came on and my body began to sway to the music. Jason moved with me. His hands gripped my hips as I danced to the beat, lost in the rhythm. _Let loose_ —it's what everyone always said to me, so that's exactly what I planned on doing tonight.

Images of Paige dirty dancing flashed through my mind and I attempted to mimic her moves on Jason. I must have been doing something right, because soon a large smile spread on his face and his pupils dilated as his eyes grew hooded by lust. The shivering sensation I'd felt earlier slid through me again at the thought of turning him on. Gripping my hips, Jason crushed his pelvic area against my ass and I could feel exactly just how turned on he actually was. All I could think was that this was truly the start of something wicked between us.

One more Long Island later, I was out of breath, tipsy, and so pent up with sexual energy I felt as though I might burst. Jason handed me my wristlet purse and licked his lips.

"You ready to get out of here?" he asked.

"Yeah." I'd attempted to sound flirty and cute, but instead my voice sounded strangled. "Are you all right to drive?"

"Fine. I've had two shots and one beer, but we've been here for hours." He nodded. "What about you?"

I laughed. "I'm tipsy as hell, this is the limit. If I had another, I'd barf for sure. I'm cutting myself off." My hands moved in some weird cutting motion across my neck to emphasize my point better.

The sound of his laughing merged with mine and our eyes locked. Once our laughter settled, a silence draped over us while we continued to gaze at one another. A song too loud and too fast paced for the moment lingering between us started.

"What do you say to heading down to the river?" Jason asked. His amusement from my earlier words still lingered on his beautiful face, but there was a seriousness twisting in the depths of his eyes. "Think you can walk that far in those shoes?" His gaze dropped to my shoes and a smirk played at the corners of his mouth.

"It's not that far," I protested. "Besides, there's no rule that states I have to keep them on."

The water was cool. I'd kicked off my sandals long before we made it to the river's edge and now stood with my toes planted firmly in place as the river's constant movement slipped over my skin. The moon was low in the sky, nearly full and shedding just the right amount of light down on us. I took a step back, onto a smooth rocky ledge behind me, as the chill of the water soon became too much. The rock beneath my bare feet was still warm from the sun and I let out a little sigh into the night. I tipped my head back to look up at the star-filled sky, taking in all of nature's uncorrupted beauty that surrounded me.

Jason came up behind me, his sandals shuffling against the smooth surface of the rock. "It's nice, isn't it?" he asked, his voice nothing but a whisper.

Glancing over my shoulder at him, I was surprised by how close he was to me. Inhaling, I could smell his guy-scent—a mixture of soap and deodorant of some sort. Whatever it was, it was spicy and male and I liked it. My eyes traveled the length of him and I knew he could feel them on him, but I was too tipsy to care, so I continued checking him out unabashedly while his gaze locked on the sky.

"Look," he said as he pointed. "Bats."

My head snapped to where he'd pointed so quickly, the movement jerked my body with it and I stumbled. Losing my footing, I nearly toppled into the river. Jason reached out and steadied me, his large hands gripping my forearms.

"Whoa there," he chuckled.

His face was inches from mine. His warm hands still gripped my arms. I straightened my stance to a firmer one, but he still didn't let go. Our stare became fused together as electricity zapped beneath my skin from the contact I'd been craving all night.

"Thanks for catching me." A giggle built in my chest, but the second I saw his tongue slip out and lick at his bottom lip, it disappeared.

"No problem."

His hands slid free from my arms only to grip my hips firmly. My heart pounded from their sudden shift in placement. Jason's jaw moved as he bit at the inside of his cheek. I wondered for a moment if this was a nervous habit of his or if he was simply wondering whether now was the time to take me home.

I didn't want him to take me home. I wasn't finished with this night—with him—just yet.

With the courage that came from drinking three Long Island Iced Teas and the yearning that pulsated through my body from his nearness, I did what I wanted—I arched my body into his and kissed him. His lips were warm and soft; his breath tasted of spicy liquor, and I knew I was right where I'd wanted to be a million times in my head—locked in Jason Bryant's arms with my lips pressed to his.

## Chapter 18

# Jason

I'd been debating whether I should kiss her as I'd held her in my arms. The moment felt right, but I didn't want her to think I'd taken advantage of her later when she reflected back on tonight, so I'd hesitated.

Did I want to kiss her? Yes.

Did I want to do more than simply kiss her? Hell yes.

But I wasn't some asshat who took advantage of a girl after she'd had a few drinks, because she was beautiful and I was horny.

Call me old school, but I'd had the intentions of being a gentleman tonight...even if I had played some serious cards to get this date with her in the first place.

I'd been thinking all of this when Blaire had taken the initiative and pressed her sweet lips to mine, deciding where the night would go all on her own.

The desire to crush my lips against hers and allow my hands to roam as they wished across every curve of her body slammed into me, but I fought it. Instead, I softly brushed my lips against hers and savored the taste of them on my tongue. My hands loosened their grip on her hips and migrated up her body toward her face, brushing against the outer curve of her breasts with my thumbs in the motion. A shiver slid through her and the sound of her breath catching in her throat let me know she enjoyed the sensation as much as I did.

My hands came up to cradle her head. Pressing my tongue into her sweet mouth a little deeper, I felt her hands fist my T-shirt. Things I wanted to do to her, places I wanted to touch her, made a certain member of mine stiffen. Taking a few steps backward, I steered us off the rock and into the grass I'd intended for us to sit and talk on when I'd suggested us coming here.

Well, maybe I had planned for us to do a little more than talk, something along the lines of what we were doing right now actually. If things had happed to go further I'd thought it would be awesome, but that was as far as I'd planned this river-side move out.

Blaire separated her lips from mine and began to trail them along my neck. They were soft, and warm, and wet. I froze with my hands still tangled in her hair. Wasn't that supposed to be my next move? Her tongue darted out and ran along the length of my neck, making the stiffness in my shorts become almost too much to bear. I let out a groan and closed my eyes. My hands fell to her hips.

Damn, this girl knew what she was doing.

Even if she didn't know that happened to be my spot—the spot a girl could kiss and get me to do whatever the hell she wanted, because that spot turned me on so fucking badly it was unbelievable—she still knew how to work that tongue of hers. In my mind there was a list of about a million things swarming around, buzzing like little bees—doubts, desires, worries. Keeping my hands locked on her hips and my eyes closed, I inhaled Blaire and felt my list begin to fizzle from the depths of my mind.

Her hands found their way beneath the edge of my T-shirt. They were cold and soft against the harsh hotness of my stomach. I was burning for her. When her lips found their way back to mine, I flicked my tongue deeper into the recesses of her mouth. The sound that hummed from her was such a turn-on. It took all I had not to lay her down in the grass and go at it.

But I resisted, even when I felt her thumbs slip beneath the waistband of my shorts, tracing the lines that formed a V leading straight to my other brain...the one urging me to let it take control of this moment for me. This would only go as far as Blaire wanted it to. I knew she'd had enough to drink tonight to feel a little tipsy and free.

My hands glided along the back of her arms as we continued to kiss. Each stroke of our tongues against each other pulled me to the brink of not being able to control myself, but I still allowed her to set the pace. I wanted this. I wanted her. I had since I saw her at the party that night. Hell, I'd wanted her before that, she just didn't seem to be my type back then. She was one you had to work to be with...the type where nothing would come easy. She wasn't easily swindled into bed or situations. She was smart, and girls as smart as her had intimidated the shit out of me back then. Hell, sometimes they still did. But yet, here she was. In my arms. Kissing me and doing everything I never thought she'd do on a first date.

My hands came up to brush lightly against the tops of her shoulders. I trailed my fingertips against the soft skin of her collarbone in a feather-light touch. A moan escaped her and I thought it would be my undoing right then. Her fingers tugged and pulled at the button of my shorts. An electric current zapped through me at the realization of what she was attempting to do—get me naked.

"Are you sure about this?" I asked. My hands fell to her hips again. "We don't have to do this tonight. We can stop now or at any moment you like." The words came out with a struggle, because stopping was the last thing I wanted to do, but if she told me to than I would.

"I want to." Her words were hot and breathy. There had never been a sound sexier. "I want you." Until she'd added in that part. And just like that, I was hard as a rock and all of my inhibitions were gone. They'd faded into the night.

Pulling back to look at me, Blaire stopped in her motion to undress me. Her eyes locked with mine and I caught a glimmer of wariness twinkling in them. "Do _you_ want to do this?" Her voice didn't match her eyes. It was too naughty and husky sounding to match with the timid look flashing in them.

"Yes," I growled out and crushed my lips to hers like I'd wanted to from the beginning. Maybe it was a distinct enough answer for her to not question me again.

She didn't. Instead, she unbuttoned my shorts and pushed them to my ankles. Reaching around, she unzipped her dress and let it fall to the ground, revealing a matching lacy bra and panty set. I couldn't tell the color in the dark, but I had no doubt they were dark. Tugging my T-shirt off, I tossed it to the ground on top of my shorts and stepped out of my boxers.

Someone cranked a car from the parking lot above us. Their headlights illuminated where we were for all of two seconds before they backed out of their parking space and disappeared. It was all the light I needed to see that her matching bra and panty set indeed were a dark shade of blue.

A giggle burst free from her. "Do you think they saw us?"

I glanced up at the parking lot and then turned my gaze back to her. "Not a chance."

Pulling her close, I tugged her down onto the cool grass. Her lips pressed against mine, eager to pick up where we'd left off. My lips twisted against hers in a smirk as she squirmed and wiggled beneath me so I could unhook and remove her bra. Next came her delicate panties. Before I knew it, Blaire Hayes was beneath me, completely naked, and I was rubbing and sucking on places I'd only touched her while I was dreaming.

This was honestly not what I'd prepared for earlier when I'd thought of how tonight would go. My hands slipped across the smooth skin of her inner thigh and I pressed her legs apart a little more, allowing me room to get closer. She arched her back and bucked against me.

_Prepared for!_ Shit. I hadn't brought a condom with me.

Normally I stashed one in my wallet when I thought there was a possibility I'd get laid on a date, but I hadn't seen that as a true possibility tonight. Not with Blaire. I figured we'd have a few drinks and then plan for another date if things went well. Hell, I'd thought Blaire was a three date or more kinda girl, not a first nighter. I had her pegged wrong. Dead wrong.

Her hand stroked against the very place I'd wanted her to since she'd kissed me. My mind exploded with desire and my heart rate increased tenfold.

"I don't have anything," I groaned out.

The words literally burned my throat and caused my chest to tighten as I admitted that little truth aloud. I knew what I would have to endure after they'd left my mouth—the pain that would ache for a while from not being able to release properly. My stomach clenched at the thought.

"It doesn't matter. I'm on the pill." Her breath was hot against my ear.

My skin prickled with shock. Had she really just given me the okay? Her lips pressed against the sensitive spot along my neck again as her hand gripped me and before I knew it, I was lined up just right without having to move myself.

"Are you sure about this?" It was the last thing I wanted to ask in the moment, but I knew I needed to. I was a damn gentleman, after all.

With her legs wrapped around my waist, I licked and sucked along her neck like she'd done to mine. The little moans that sprang from her made me smile, and I stiffened a little more in her hand. Her hips bucked up and then I was inside her. The protest on my lips died away and I lost myself in the moment, without any hope of stopping what was happening.

"I'm sure," she whimpered against my shoulder as I took over the rhythm.

Her gesture had been enough, but her soft, moan-filled words ripped at any hesitation I might have had flickering in the back of my mind, turning it into shreds and making this the best first date ever.

## Chapter 19

# Blaire

I awoke to my phone going crazy. Sunlight streamed into my eyes, telling me it had to be nearly lunchtime. I couldn't remember the last time I'd slept so late. The incessant ringing continued in the background, echoing off the walls to my bedroom and nearly driving me insane.

Sitting up, I glanced around. The phone was on my dresser—still nestled in my wristlet. A smile twisted at my lips, because all I could think of when I looked at it now was Jason and the comment he'd made about it last night.

Pulling myself from bed, I stumbled over and swiped it off the dresser. Diane—my boss from work—was calling. Shit. Sliding my thumb across the screen to answer, I pressed my entire wallet to my ear without thinking.

"Hello?"

A sigh of relief met with my ear. "Blaire, I'm glad you answered. I've been trying to find someone to come in and cover Melanie's shift. You're the first person who's answered their phone. Do you think you could come in? I can have her swap out with you for..." There was a long pause and a ruffling of papers. She must have been flipping through the calendar schedule. "How about next Friday? That would give you a three-day weekend before we toss you back on the weekend schedule."

I rubbed my forehead with my fingertips. Why had I answered the phone so quickly when I'd seen her name? Why couldn't I have been like the others she'd called and not answered?

"If I work for Melanie today...then she'll take my shift next Friday?" I repeated, hoping I'd understood her correctly.

"Yes, not this coming Friday, but the next. I'll put a Post-it note on the computer right now for when Gwen makes the schedules," Diane said.

I let out a little sigh. "Okay, I'll be there at two then."

"Ah, thank you! We really need you today, it's bath day."

Great. Melanie had better cover for me next Friday, because today was going to suck. Big time.

The green Jell-O wiggled and moved as I walked, carrying the tray of Mrs. Whitley's food across the dining-room floor. How people actually ate the stuff was beyond me, just the sight of it made my mouth taste bitter. Lime was not my favorite flavor. As for Mrs. Whitley, she'd rather die than live without it.

After placing the standard round burgundy tray on the cream-colored tabletop, I moved to tug a chair out for Mrs. Whitley. Holding on to the back, I waited for her to sit, standing as straight as I could with a smile on my face. This was part of the act we played, the nurses. Whether we'd been smacked more than we could count in a day or crapped on in the last few hours, we still had to paste a smile on our face and carry on as though those things hadn't happened for the sake of the resident we were currently assisting. Being Debbi Downer or Grumpy Gus only intensified their already unstable emotional frame of mind, tipping it to mirror our own. They were like sponges—they soaked up whatever we put out. Most of them anyway.

Mrs. Whitley wrapped the bright pink cardigan she wore tighter around her tiny frame and slipped into the chair I'd pulled out for her without so much as a thank you. She was always a Grumpy Gus. I would be too if I'd been dropped off here by my children to die, which was pretty much what her five children had done with her. Out of sight, out of mind. Some of the residents received regular visitors from various members of the family, but not all.

Mrs. Whitley happened to be one of those whose family never came to visit. She'd been dropped off about six months ago and had had two visitors since. I watched her as she picked up her fork and stabbed at her green Jell-O.

"It is as good as yesterday?" I asked.

Making conversation always seemed like a must during my feeding duties. Some nurses sat and never said a word to the resident as they watched them eat, but I felt like holding a conversation was the least I could do as I monitored their food and drink intake.

"No," she snapped.

Pursing my lips together, I nodded. "Okay." Not the answer I got last time I asked about the lime Jell-O, but maybe the bitter taste had finally caught up with her.

"Did you do anything exciting today? I saw they had a new puzzle set out on the table in the game room, did you start it?" Mrs. Whitley was the puzzle master of Cross Meadows. I was pretty sure she needed to be in the Guinness Book of World Records for holding the fastest time or something.

"No," she snapped again.

Today obviously was not a good day for Mrs. Whitley. It hadn't been a good day for me either, so I could relate. Mr. Harold had nearly punched me this morning when Sabrina and I had attempted to lift him and take him to the bathroom for a bath. You'd think that with only getting a bath three times a week the residents wouldn't put up a fight, but they did. I assumed it was because they had no control over anything...not even bathing themselves. Everything was monitored, right down to if they took a dump and how firm it was.

As Mrs. Whitley finished off her meal, I marked on my food intake sheet the percentage of the meal she'd consumed. Then I waited and watched closely to how much she drank before converting the ounces into CCs. I understood how debilitating this must seem to them, but it was necessary. We had a process and this was part of it.

After helping two more residents to their spot in the dining room and charting their food intake, I then went to the laptop connected to the wall of my hall and added everything into the system before taking a much-needed mental break. My mental breaks at work were always the same—a Kit Kat from the vending machine, a water, and Facebook.

I intended to see if Jason had messaged me, considering we had yet to exchange phone numbers—why on Earth were we solely corresponding through the usage of Facebook? I really needed to message him for his number.

When the page updated, my heart shrank and heaviness entered my limbs. He hadn't messaged me all day. Did this mean something? Was he too busy, or had he forgotten the hot sex by the river we'd both taken part in last night? I hadn't...but guys were different. That was not something I normally did, I did not have one-night stands. It was trashy and I was not trashy.

Scrolling through my news feed, I realized Jason was most definitely too busy to correspond with me on Facebook. While I had been at work getting snapped at and nearly knocked out around every corner, he was allowing slutty Marla Danes to sit in his lap and kiss him while at some other bar. Checking out things in the background, I came to the conclusion they must be at Blue's in Coldcreek, because I recognized the bartender from the few times I'd been there.

Awesome. Last night had meant nothing to him. I was just another notch in Jason Bryant's belt of women. I was glad I hadn't messaged him for his number, because I sure as shit didn't want to talk to him again.

Ever.

Cramming my phone back into my oversized pocket, I crumpled up my Kit Kat wrapper and chucked it into the trash can. It was time to make my rounds and see if my assigned residents were in bed yet.

I checked on Mr. Harold first. Poking my head into his room, I noticed he was sitting in the chair beside the window. He was unmoving; the last glimmers of pinkish-orange from the setting sun lit his face and a patch on the floor of his dark room. I flicked on the light and made my way inside the room.

"Mr. Harold, are you ready for bed?" I asked in a low voice. When he didn't answer I tried again a little louder. "Mr. Harold? Are you ready for bed?"

"Yes," he said. His hands rose limply into the air, as though he were waiting for me to lift him. "I'm tired."

"I bet you are," I said. Sometimes I wondered if sitting around, doing absolutely nothing wasn't what brought these people to their graves.

"I thought Johnny would come today for sure," he muttered as I helped him from the chair and into his bed. "I didn't mean to be ill earlier, Blaire. I was just disappointed Johnny didn't come like I thought he would."

"I know, Mr. Harold. It's okay, really," I said. His apology broke my heart.

Out of the year Mr. Harold had been with us, Johnny had never showed to visit. He'd dropped him off and never looked back. Even so, Mr. Harold still waited for his son every single day, regardless of how much time had passed.

"You're such a sweetheart," Mr. Harold said. His hand came up and brushed against my right cheek.

A shiver ran along my spine from the coldness of his touch. I pulled the covers up over his legs and smiled. "Thank you."

His eyes were a milky shade of blue, as though they were about to give up against the fight with cataracts he'd been battling for years. His skin had that translucent, paper-thin appearance I'd seen on so many of the residents from time to time. Normally it meant one of two things: either they were sick, or they were about to pass away. Swallowing hard, I tucked the blanket around him and started toward the door.

"Johnny will come tomorrow," Mr. Harold said to my back. "I'm sure of it."

"I'm sure you're right," I said before turning off the light and closing the door behind me.

Tightness centered itself in my chest. Walking to the computer at the end of the hall, I logged in and clicked on Mr. Harold's file. Even though I'd just sat with him through his dinner and logged his meal consumption not too long ago, I still needed to compare it to the last few days. A knot formed in my stomach when I realized he was on a downward trend. Mr. Harold had been taking in less food and liquids each day for the entire week. Mixed with the translucent color of his skin and his lack of adequate food consumption, I prayed silently that Johnny would finally come, because Mr. Harold didn't seem to have much time left.

Closing his file, I logged off then crammed my hands into the pockets of my shirt and made my way toward the nurses' station to report my assumption. Diane or Gwen would have to verify, and if they agreed that Mr. Harold was, in fact, on his way out...then Johnny would be getting a phone call letting him know the time to visit with his father was limited. Hopefully he would come before it was too late.

## Chapter 20

# Jason

"Motherfucker!" I shouted. I'd busted my damn thumb for the second time while trying to nail one stupid fucking nail into the third step on my Gramps' front porch.

What the hell had I been thinking when I'd said I could handle the suggested repair list that hotshot inspector had given us? He'd been a nitpicky asshole. Who the fuck was gonna care if one damn step was coming up on one side? I didn't. Yet here I was, swollen thumb and all, attempting to fix it. I'd been here since early this morning, because I couldn't sleep and my mom had expected me to get something done today. I couldn't let her down. Not now, when she seemed to be so stressed by everything. She needed me and I planned on being there for her this time around.

Holding my head back, I gazed up at the quickly darkening sky. Chucking the hammer to the ground, I bit the end of my thumb and pulled out my cell to check the time—8:47 P.M. Sitting on the edge of the porch, I checked my Facebook, wondering if Blaire had said anything to me yet. When the page loaded there were a few notifications at the top I breezed through...until I spotted Marla had tagged me in a picture. Clicking on it, I waited for it to load. My service was crappy here for some reason. A smirk twisted at my lips when I realized what the picture was of—me and Marla, sitting at Blue's the other night. The caption said: "Having a blast with my old high school sugar!" I "liked" it and then posted: "Good times."

I clicked on Blaire's picture next and typed her a message.

**Hope you had sweet dreams last night, I sure did. But I noticed one thing...I don't have your number. Seems like that would be a little better way to get in contact with you than through Facebook. Don't you think?**

Clicking my phone off, I finished hammering in that pesky nail and decided to call it a night. I was starved and in desperate need of a shower. Loading the tools I'd used back into my Jeep, I started the engine and headed back to my mom's place.

Lights were on when I pulled into the driveway and Mom's car was parked in its usual spot. When I walked through the front door, the scent of garlic hung heavy in the air and I smiled. Music filtered through the house. It was some old-school _Eagles_ song— _Witchy Woman_ , if my memory was correct. Vivid images of my mom driving down the street to the grocery store, singing along and tapping her thigh with her free hand while I sat in the passenger seat and stared, flashed through my mind. Those were good times; she was truly happy then, because Dad had still been with us.

"I'm home," I shouted over the music.

Mom came around the corner, a glass of dark wine in hand. "Honey, hey! I cooked." She motioned to the empty cardboard pizza box on the counter with a smile.

"I noticed," I said. "I'm starved, so I hope you made more than that little thing."

She laughed and it made my aggravation from this shitty day of handyman work melt away. Hearing her laugh and seeing her relaxed was awesome.

"I haven't forgotten how large your appetite is, son, don't worry." She moved to set her wineglass down and scooped up the oven mitt. "Did you get much done over there today?"

"Yeah, I got some done—fixed the step on the porch, replaced the toilet seat in the master bathroom, and stained the dock leading to the lake—which took the majority of the day with that little-ass brush I bought. I've got to get the fence done tomorrow and then I have just a few more things to do," I said, kicking off my boots next to the door.

"Good, thanks again for doing this. It's really saved me a ton of money." She pulled the supreme pizza out from in the oven and set it on the stove. "How many pieces do you want?"

"I'll take the whole thing," I said, only half joking as I headed to my room for some clothes. "After I take a shower."

By the time I'd gotten out of the shower there wasn't an ounce of hot water left. I was dog tired and couldn't wait to eat something. I checked my Facebook to see if Blaire had responded back with a number I could call her at after I ate, but there wasn't anything—she hadn't even seen that I'd sent her a message.

The music had been cut off and the smell of pizza drifted down the hall to my nose when I stepped out of the bathroom. Mom had set me a plate on the counter with four large pieces of pizza. I smiled. Maybe I was a little old to have my mommy make me a plate of food, but that didn't mean I couldn't appreciate it when she did. There was even a cold beer beside it. I scooped up both the plate and beer, and headed into the living room to eat beside her on the couch. There was some cop show playing on the TV. One of those shows where they unravel a murder mystery in the course of an hour. I'd never been into shows like that personally—my style of cop shows was more along the lines of _Reno 911_ reruns.

Flopping down on the couch beside her, careful not to spill my beer or drop my plate, I made myself comfortable. While I ate, I tried to get into the show, but couldn't get images of Blaire from last night out of my head. It had been this way all day. In fact, I blamed my sore thumb on those sexy images. They'd been more of a distraction today than anything had the right to be. The urge to check my Facebook once more was nearly overpowering.

Standing, I took my plate, as well as my mom's, to the kitchen sink. Leaning against the counter, I checked my Facebook. Ignoring my new notifications and all the random crap people had posted up since the last time I checked, I clicked on my messages. The message to Blaire had been seen, but she hadn't responded. What the fuck? I told myself she was probably busy or something and didn't have the time to type in a seven-digit phone number for me. The thought that maybe I should just give her mine nudged its way into my head, but I quickly quieted it. There was no way I was going to leave her mine; it would only make me look desperate.

"I'm going to head to bed, honey," Mom said as she entered the kitchen. She set her empty wineglass in the sink. "I'm beat."

"Night, Mom."

Letting out a long sigh after she left the room, I went to the fridge and grabbed out another beer before I headed out to sit on the back porch. I needed some peace and quiet. I needed to go fishing. The desire to load my Jeep up with my old fishing gear from the basement tugged at me. Fishing off the dock behind Gramps' house had always been the best. Heading back inside, I pulled my boots on and made my way to the basement to gather all my stuff. Fishing was the best way to think about the answers to the biggest problems life tossed your way.

After I'd tossed everything I'd need for a nighttime fishing trip into the back of my Jeep, I got on Facebook again and checked to see if Blaire had said anything yet, because if so then I'd ditch fishing and head to her place to scoop her up again. She hadn't.

As I went to toss my cell into my passenger seat, Brian sent me a text.

**Hey man. Wanted to know what the deal was for next week. Are you coming back sometime or hanging out there?**

I had no clue. If I finished everything tomorrow then I'd be able to come back on Monday. I'd be done with this place, but did I want to be? I wanted Blaire.

**I don't know dude. It all depends on if I can finish up with everything I have left tomorrow or not. I might have to wait until Monday or Tuesday to come back. Is that cool?**

He didn't respond back for a while.

**It's cool. I just was wondering 'cuz the water heater at Sarah's place is out...so I kinda told her she could stay here until the new one comes in.**

I smiled as I responded back.

**And how long will that be?**

**About a week.**

A week? Sarah would be staying at our place for a week? Images of her sexy tattoo and how I'd walked in on them flashed through my mind. There was no way I could be there with the two of them all over each other for an entire week. Not possible.

**You know what, it's cool. You two live it up. Keep the place to yourself for the week. I'll stay here.**

**You sure?**

I sighed as I replied back.

**Yeah. I have a lot to do and I really need to spend time with my Gramps...you know, before and all that.**

**I hear ya man. Sending you my thoughts.**

**Thanks.**

I chucked my phone into the passenger seat with more effort than necessary. I felt fucking homeless all the sudden. I couldn't go back to my place because I'd feel like I was intruding on their "couple time," but I couldn't stay at my mom's either, it was just weird. I'd moved out three years ago, damn it. Why had I packed all of Gramps' things up? I should be staying at his place right now. Fuck.

My hands gripped the steering wheel tightly. Inhaling, I glanced out at the lake. Fishing, this was all I needed to think about at the moment. Climbing out, I grabbed my pole and tackle box before making my way out to the dock in the dim light of the moon. There were a few solar-powered lights Gramps had installed along the length of it back when I was little and used to spend my summer nights here; those were what I used to guide me farther along.

With the sounds of the night filling my ears and the gentle wind coming off the water, I sat with the pole in my hand and forgot about everything else.

My butt was numb by the time I decided I should head home and crash. Fat droplets of water splashed around me—yup, it was definitely time for me to go. By the time I made it to my Jeep, the rain was coming down in sheets and it was nearly impossible to see. I laughed as I slid into the driver's seat. Thank goodness I'd left the soft top on or else I would be driving in the rain and the interior of my Jeep would be flooded. I guess I could thank Blaire for that. Sort of. She'd allowed me to pick her up last night and take her home, which was the reason I'd put the top on.

My cell still sat in the passenger seat where I'd left it last. The urge to scoop it up and check to see if Blaire had seen my message yet ate away at me. She still hadn't chosen to respond with anything. Why? I stared at the screen and pondered on whether I should just type in my number and tell her I'd like to meet up with her sometime tomorrow. That would make me look desperate as shit, though, and I didn't want that.

I'd came to the conclusion during our date last night that Blaire had not agreed to go out with me because she felt forced; she'd definitely wanted to be there all on her own accord. We'd slept together by the river, of course she wanted to be there with me.

But what if Blaire was into the whole one-nighter thing, though?

I'd never pegged her as that type of girl, but then again, I didn't know her all that well, did I? I'd give it a week, maybe, and then I'd ask her out again. If she was into the whole casual dating scene, a week would be the perfect amount of space for her. At least, I hoped.

## Chapter 21

# Blaire

It was late when I got home from my shift at Cross Meadows. Every light in the apartment was on, but Paige was nowhere to be found as I came through the front door. Music trickled out from her bedroom, along with the stench of nail polish. I kicked off my shoes at the front door and headed to the kitchen to pour myself a large glass of the wine Paige kept stocked in the fridge for days like today. I started toward the couch and checked my email before resorting to checking my Facebook again. I knew all I'd do was look at that stupid picture of Jason and Marla I'd seen earlier, comparing her sex-kitten features to mine in my head.

Ugh, I didn't want to, but it was like driving past a car accident—you couldn't stop yourself from looking.

And there it was, time stamped from being posted earlier tonight. While I'd been busting my ass taking care of old people and thinking about our date from the night before, he'd been living it up in Coldcreek with Marla. Nice. I pursed my lips together and tapped on the messages area, ready to reread his message from earlier.

**Hope you had sweet dreams last night, I sure did. But I noticed one thing...I don't have your number. Seems like that would be a little better way to get in contact with you than through Facebook. Don't you think?**

Seriously? The time between when the picture of him and Marla had been posted and when he'd sent me the message hadn't been very long. Not even forty minutes. Was he thinking of me while he'd been feeling Marla Danes up? I tapped back to the picture of the two of them. Yeah, thinking of me while he was sitting with her in his lap was highly unlikely.

"Oh, you're home," Paige said. She came down the hall with her fingers all splayed out and walking on her heels with her toes up in the air. "I was just gonna text you and see if you could pick up a movie on your way home."

"Too late," I said. I took a small sip of the wine I'd poured and clicked my phone off.

"Wine after ten?" She came and sat beside me on the couch. "Tonight must have been a rough night."

"Oh, it was."

"What happened? You don't smell like poop."

I laughed. "Well, at least I have that going for me. I didn't get crapped on tonight, at least not my clothes. I did, however, manage to nearly get punched though. A few times."

"Awesome," Paige joked. "I swear, your job is so freaking entertaining. Never a dull moment."

"That's the truth."

"Oh!" Her eyes grew wide and she shifted to stare at me dead-on. "How was your date with Jason last night? I didn't even get to talk with you about it yet."

Hanging my head back, I let out a loud groan. "Umm, it went all right, I guess. I'm not sure there will be another one any time soon though."

"Why? What happened?" she asked.

"I don't know. He's just not the type of guy I thought he was," I said, taking another sip of wine. "I thought everything went good... _really_ good, but—"

"Really, really good?" Paige raised an eyebrow at me.

Heat crept along my neck and pooled in my cheeks. "Yeah, really, _really_ good."

Paige's mouth dropped open. "You slut!"

"Oh thanks, that makes me feel so much better about it all." I grimaced.

"You know what I mean." She shook her head. "I can't believe you did that! It's so unlike you... It's so _me_...or _Lauren_ , but not _you_!"

I sighed. "I know, trust me. I have no idea what I was thinking."

"So how was he?" She scrunched up her nose in disgust. "Was he horrible?"

I laughed. "No, he wasn't horrible."

"Well, with the way you said you didn't think there would be another date I figured that must have been why." She jerked her head my way again. "Oh my God, did you like...puke on him while in the middle of _you know_?!"

"What! No!" I insisted. "Nothing like that. I thought we both had a good time and then while I was at work tonight I got on Facebook to see if he'd posted anything or left me a message, because for whatever reason we still haven't exchanged numbers, and I saw this."

Picking up my phone, I showed her the picture of Jason and Marla together.

"Nu-uh, no way. He slept with you and then goes to the bar with _that_? What the hell is his problem? No wonder you're busting out the wine tonight. I would too." She tossed my phone on the coffee table and stood. "Screw him, you're better than that."

"Ugh, I know. Right?" I took another swig of my wine, letting it slide down my throat in the hopes that it would wash away the burning sting of tears creeping up.

I did not need to cry over this. So what if he was with someone else tonight—sucking face and screwing her silly—he'd never made any indication that we were going to be exclusive. Dear God, why had I thrown myself at him like that? Never again would I have a Long Island Iced Tea. That's what I was blaming it on.

Paige popped the cork on the bottle of wine I'd opened and walked over to the couch with it in her hand, plus a glass. She checked her toenail polish and then curled her leg beneath her. After pouring herself some wine, she set the bottle on the coffee table.

"So, he was at least good?" she asked. Her brown eyes glimmered with excitement at the possibility. "I mean, even if he didn't intend to start up a relationship with you, he did at least know what he was doing?"

Jesus. Leave it to Paige to put it that way.

"Yeah, he was, actually," I said with a large grin, before taking another swig of my wine.

"At least there's that." She shrugged. "It would be horrible if he was shitty in bed _and_ had only been out for a one-nighter."

I nodded. "The thing is...I'm not even sure he was out for the one-nighter."

"Huh? What makes you think that? Aren't all guys out for a one-nighter if they can score it?"

"Most I'm sure, but he didn't even make the first move... I did," I admitted. Crap, had I forced myself on him? Oh my God, I was _that_ girl—the one who gets drunk and then practically rapes a guy. Damn it.

Paige's lips curled into a smirk. "Are you serious right now? You expect me to believe that prim and proper Blaire Hayes was the one who initiated the first move with Jason freaking Bryant?"

"Yup, because it's true. I kissed him first," I said. The vivid image of me doing so flashed through my mind. "I practically jumped him as soon as he took me down to the river."

"He took you down to the river? That's creepy. I can't believe you let that happen."

"It wasn't creepy. I think he was trying to give me some time to sober up before we headed home, so I wouldn't barf all over his Jeep." I had no clue if that had actually been his intentions or not, but it sounded good. Oh my God, had that been what he'd been doing...and then I'd thrown myself at him! My stomach hardened and my face and neck began to feel incredibly hot.

"Sure." Paige rolled her eyes. "All I'm saying is if that had been me and I'd gone down to the river with some guy on a first date, drunk and alone, you'd have flipped a freaking lid."

Rubbing my forehead, I realized she was right; maybe that hadn't been my brightest moment. "You're right. I know."

" _But_ , when you _did_ go down there with him...what happened?" she asked, her attention shifting back to the rest of the evening besides my slip in judgment.

"I kissed him and practically mauled him to death with my vagina," I muttered sarcastically. I downed the last of the wine in my glass and reached for the bottle.

Paige waved my words away. "You did not. I bet he had protection out and on in a flash once you started kissing him."

_Protection_. I'd forgotten that we hadn't used any. My heart began to race in my chest as shooting spikes of adrenaline shot through me at this thought. How in the hell could I have let myself sleep with someone without using protection?

"No, not really." I felt my face scrunch up as the words slid from my mouth. "He didn't have any on him. He actually tried to stop me a few times, letting me know we didn't have to go any farther...but I just kept right on going. Hence why I claim to have mauled him with my vagina."

"You didn't use any protection? What!" Paige shrieked. "That is it, you are not allowed to go out without a reminder talk with me on the do's and don't's of casual dating. Rule number one: always use protection, Blaire! Always!"

I closed my eyes. "I know this, Paige. I just got caught up in the moment, I guess."

"Yeah, that's what they all say and then they pop out a baby in nine months or end up with some disease they can't wash off in the shower!"

I flinched at her harsh words of truth and my stomach knotted even more. There was no way I could be pregnant because I was on the pill, but catching something...that was a real possibility. What if Jason never used protection with anyone? Immediately the realization that wine and panic did not go good together for me clicked into place. Hot tears begin to trickle down my cheeks.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Paige said. "I was too harsh, wasn't I? I didn't mean it, I swear, Blaire. Don't cry."

I laughed at her attempt to rectify the damage she'd done by speaking the truth. "You weren't too harsh. It's the truth...and I'm scared. What if I caught something from him? I mean, you saw who he's with tonight. Obviously he has no standards."

Paige wrapped an arm around me and pulled me in close. "No. You're gonna be fine. I was just trying to prove a point. Everything will be okay."

I leaned my head against her shoulder and prayed that she was right.

## Chapter 22

# Jason

Beyond my control, one week of waiting to ask Blaire out on a second date turned into two. Things had not been in my favor lately. It had rained for two solid weeks straight and I'd found out after the first round of random flash flooding had started that the basement to Gramps' house leaked like a bitch. I'd had to purchase a pump to get the gallons of nasty water out and then had to repeat the process of pumping it out numerous times. Then came trying to figure out where the freaking leak in the foundation was...which meant I had to fix the leaks that I found. It was a mess and I was well over my head, but toughed it out like a trooper for my mom.

I'd been so stressed and pissed off about the fucking basement and all the damn rain that I hadn't had time to worry about when I should send Blaire another message on Facebook and if it should include my number this time. In fact, I hadn't done anything. I'd been dog-ass tired trying to learn how to do shit properly and then having to learn to fix all the shit I'd broken while trying to fix the first thing the right way.

Over the last two weeks I'd come to a few conclusions about things: One, I sucked at home repairs. Two, my Gramps' place was a fucking dump waiting on the right person to look at it close enough to realize this. And three, Sarah seemed pretty damn close to stealing my spot on the lease of mine and Brian's apartment.

My life seemed to be in fucking turmoil.

I switched the channel on the TV in the "media room" of Cross Meadows, putting it on MTV. Some stupid show about teen moms was playing. I left it there, hoping to get a riseout of Gramps. Back in the day he would have never let me put the TV on some garbage show like that. Now, he just sat there and stared blankly at the screen without really seeing what was on it at all. Hell, I wasn't even sure he realized I'd been here to visit him first thing in the morning every day this week.

It was sad, really, I was practically watching him wither away to nothing in this place.

They couldn't get him to eat much—his food intake apparently had been decreasing over the last few days—and he never talked anymore. It was like he'd given up, like he'd decided that a world without my grandmother in it wasn't a world worth living in. I admired that, while at the same time despised it.

I chucked the remote down beside me on the floral sofa they'd obviously had donated by some dearly departed old person's family and propped my hand up to stare at him. He was dressed in a pair of slacks and a button-up shirt. He looked nice, but his socks didn't match. I wondered if it was some nurse joke—a way to make him appear more vibrant—or if by the time they got to putting his socks on in the process of dressing him they'd just given up on whether or not he matched and grabbed the first thing they saw. At least he wasn't still wearing his pajamas like some of the other residents here. That had to just aid in their depression. My eyes traveled to his face; it was drawn into a vacant look—one that said he wasn't where he wanted to be and didn't give a shit who noticed.

"Well, Gramps," I let out a sigh. "I guess I'm off. I'll probably not come by this weekend, but I'll be back again sometime next week."

Standing, I squeezed his shoulder and made my way to the exit. I'd be lying if I said that I didn't do a sweep of the hall and the nurses' station before I walked through the door, searching for Blaire. I had yet to see her here, but I knew that her Facebook said this was where she worked...because I'd checked and rechecked it several times to be sure.

No Blaire in sight. Again. She must work the night shift or something.

Checking my phone for the time, I smiled. It was already almost two in the afternoon. I'd never spent the entire day with Gramps before, but the head nurse had called yesterday evening and told Mom she didn't think Gramps had much of a fight let in him. So I'd decided if that was the case then I needed to spend some time with him, regardless if he was practically a vegetable, because I was facing this head-on. I'd decided it all early on and I wasn't about to back down now.

Besides, it had made my mom smile when I'd said I was going to take the day off from fixing Gramps' house to spend the day with him, and that had been worth it.

The rain was still coming down in sheets outside. Cramming my hands in the front pockets of my shorts, I headed across the parking lot to my Jeep with my head down. When would it ever stop raining? It was like the freaking sky was broken and no one knew how to seal up the damn hole.

"Jason?" a familiar voice called to me.

I knew who it was instantly and a smile came to my face. "Blaire. Hey."

"Hey, what are you doing here?" she asked. She stopped walking and stood in front of me beneath an oversized polka-dot umbrella.

I scurried beneath it with her, not because I cared to be out of the rain, but because I cared to be near her. I felt bad for not calling after that night, even though I hadn't had a number _to_ call. If that was her way of doing things I didn't like it. I wasn't a one-night-stand type person and I still couldn't get over the fact she apparently was.

My eyes trailed over her. She was dressed in a pair of light pink scrubs and had a name tag fastened to her chest. Her short hair was pulled back into a ponytail at the base of her neck with a few strands hanging loose around her face. She lifted her hand to tuck them behind her ear.

"So, how have you been?" I asked. There was a smirk on my face I couldn't keep off, no matter how hard I tried. It came from simply being in her presence.

"Good. Same old, same old." She nodded and shifted her gaze away from me. "So, what are you doing here?"

"What do you mean what am I doing here?" I asked innocently.

I cocked my head to the side. My intentions were to make her smile before we both walked away. Hopefully I succeeded and didn't make myself look like a moron in the process. Then I would ask her out again for that second date, and if the conversation went really well, I'd ask for her phone number too.

"Umm, this isn't generally a place to hang out," she said.

I shrugged. "I don't see why not—awesome food, free TV, and the place is overrun with loads of mature, established women."

Her blue eyes met mine, searching to see whether I was serious. Our eyes locked for the briefest of moments before she broke out into the smile I'd been hoping for. "What you just said is wrong on so many levels," she chuckled.

"Maybe, but it made you laugh," I pointed out. "Seriously though, my Gramps is here. He's the reason why I've been in and out of town. I came to visit with him on this glorious day." I motioned toward the rain.

Blaire glanced at me with a look of utter concern. I could see why she was a nurse now. She cared so deeply for people. It was in her nature. "I had no idea you had family staying here. What's his name?"

"Gerald Stilton," I said. My eyes dropped to the wet ground beneath me. This had not been the way I'd planned on steering the conversation. It was getting all serious and sad.

"Mr. Stilton! He's such a sweetheart," she said as a look of recognition passed across her face. "He's not on my hall, but I still see him in the media room and stuff."

How the hell do I switch this topic around? This was not even close to what I wanted to be talking about with her right now.

"Yeah, well..." I trailed off. There really was no nice way to shift off the subject, so I figured I'd go with a gradual one. Blaire was perceptive enough, she'd take the hint that I didn't want to talk about my Gramps anymore. "So, what have you been up to lately?"

She shrugged, tipping the umbrella up a little more than it was. Water dripped onto my shoulders from it. "Nothing. Work and that's about it." Her tone seemed sharp, as though she were pissed about something. "What about you?"

"I've been working on my Gramps' house, attempting to get it up to par for my mom to sell it." Damn it, there I go talking about Gramps again.

Fuck.

"Sounds fun." She smiled. "Listen, I really need to head inside, I'm gonna to be late for my shift. I'm sure I'll see you around sometime." She started to walk away. It was now or never.

"All right. Don't have too much fun." I started past her. One. Two. Three. Turning around to face her as I walked backward, I called out, "Hey, do you wanna have dinner or something tonight?"

Blaire stopped midstep and turned to face me cautiously. Damn it, I knew she was going to say no before the words ever left her mouth. Plastering on my best smile, I prayed her tongue didn't want to cooperate with her brain and that it let a yes slip out instead of the no she obviously was struggling to word nicely.

"I can pick you up after your shift and we can head to Burger Buns," I said in the most enticing tone I could muster. Rain continued to pelt my bare arms and slid down my face. "You know they have the best burgers in Coldcreek."

The desire to get out of the rain was nearly unbearable as it picked up, but I refused to move until I had an answer from her. Her eyebrows scrunched together and I braced myself for what she was about to say. "I'm sorry, I just don't think dinner is a good idea." She turned and walked away.

Shot down. Again. If you counted the Facebook message, which I did.

What the hell had I done on that date to make her so skittish when it came to going out with me a second time? From where I stood, the entire date had been awesome. What would make a woman act the way she was?

And then it hit me—was Blaire embarrassed or ashamed of what had happened between the two of us? Did she think that was all I expected now?

## Chapter 23

# Blaire

Leaving Jason standing in the rain without a good excuse as to why I wouldn't go out with him a second time was not my best moment. What else should I have said, though, that I wasn't into the whole "casual dating thing," that it wasn't me? Fat chance he'd believe me now.

All I knew was that there was no way I could go out with him a second time, because things were too awkward now. I'd slept with him without protection and desperately wanted to know if he had any STDs—not a conversation starter at all! Not to mention, I'd seen him gripping the town slut's ass while she sat in his lap and kissed him the very next night.

No. Jason Bryant might be able to add me to his belt of women he'd slept with, but I'd be damned if he added my number into his little black book designated for booty calls. My mind buzzed with the possibility of being added to that book though. To get a call in the middle of the night from him, saying he was thinking about me and wanted me to meet him someplace, maybe even for him to talk dirty to me just a little... Dear God that seemed exciting.

But no. I was not becoming that girl. Ever.

Shaking the water off my umbrella, I closed it and shoved it into the umbrella holder beside the door with a little more force than necessary. I prayed someone pulled the fire alarm tonight and this place became a chaotic mess, because that would be the type of distraction I needed.

I ignored every single one of Jason's Facebook messages and avoided him at Cross Meadows like he was a resident with MRSA for the next two weeks. He was not going to get that second date, regardless if every test I'd had done at the health center had come back clean of STDs. The amount of time I'd spent in the waiting room, freaking out with Lauren by my side while waiting for my turn to be poked and prodded at in order to get tested, just pissed me off even thinking about it. Not that it had been all his fault, because it takes two to tango, but because of who I'd seen him with the very next night. Standards. That was the key to my anger issue.

Jason Bryant obviously didn't have any.

Lugging my groceries to the apartment, I paused halfway there and shook off the anger building inside me due to his actions. Everything had happened weeks ago, I should be over this all by now. God, I'd have to check my tampon supply, because there was no denying my period was about to start any day now. Inhaling, I found my key. Music blared from my apartment—Paige must be in a great mood or else she was entertaining Craig. It was three o'clock in the afternoon, if I walked in on her and him going at it I was going to be pissed.

Thankfully all I saw was Lauren when I walked through the door.

"Hey, chick, where have you been?" she asked.

"At the store," I snapped. I closed the front door with my foot and carried all the bags in my hands to the kitchen. "We have no food and I think I might be coming down with something. I haven't felt right for a few days now."

"You always think you're sick," Paige scoffed. She was sitting in the recliner, filing her nails. "That's what you get for working around sick old people all the time."

"At least I work," I said with way more harshness than I'd intended.

"Yikes, someone's in a bad mood. And I do work, thank you very much," Paige insisted. I didn't have the strength to argue with her. "I think you need some love, come here." She held out her arms.

I laughed, but honestly the gesture nearly brought me to tears. My entire body hurt and my emotions were way out of control today. Jesus, I needed to take a freaking happy pill or something. "I'm fine, really," I said.

I started to unload the groceries that I'd bought into the fridge. A rancid scent floated to my nose as soon as I opened the door. There was something rotten in here. I'd never been one to have smells get the best of me and force me to gag—I worked in a nursing home and changed old people's diapers, for crying out loud—but there was something horribly disgusting in there.

Pushing around what little we did have in the fridge, I found the stinky culprit—a moldy block of white cheese covered in Saran Wrap and sitting in its own juices on a plate. Plugging my nose, I pulled it out, being cautious to not spill any of the juices.

"What the heck is this?" I walked to the trash can, staring at the oddity in front of me with a crinkled nose, while fighting my gag reflexes like never before.

"Oh, that was the Brie Daddy gave me a while back. Sorry, I forgot it was in there." Paige walked over and opened the trash can lid for me. "It's really good with crackers."

"Yuck, I could never eat that," I said. My stomach churned as I peeled the Saran Wrap off and slid the cheese into the trash. "You get to take that crap out to the dumpster, like now."

"All right, give me just a second." She went across the room to hand Lauren some bottle of lotion she'd been holding. I rinsed the plate off in the sink and then washed my hands. The stench was still floating in the air, souring my stomach more by the second. "Here," Paige said as she tossed the lotion bottle to Lauren. "This is the stuff I just got at Bath and Body Works. It smells like heaven."

I huffed and dried my hands on a towel before starting to unload the rest of the groceries I'd bought. If Lauren slathered on too much of that lotion it was going to smell like rotten fruit in here and I would barf for sure. Grabbing a granola bar, I watched as Paige took the trash out. I'd only taken three bites when a sudden whiff of the lotion Lauren had put on mixed with the stinky cheese wafted to my nose and I had to haul ass to the bathroom.

Hugging the toilet like it was a life preserver, I expelled everything I'd eaten the entire day.

A cold sweat broke out across my body. Gathering some toilet paper, I blew my nose and sat there trying to catch my breath. If I was coming down with something like a stomach bug, then I wouldn't be able to work. Which meant I might not be able to make my portion on the rent this month. What the hell was I going to do?

My stomach ached when I stood to rinse my mouth out with mouthwash. Glancing in the mirror, I took note of how horrible my appearance was—my complexion was pale, my eyes a little sunken in—there was something off about me. I could feel it, but I couldn't place what.

A soft knock sounded on the bathroom door.

"Are you okay?" Paige asked.

"I'm fine, I think. Hopefully I'm not coming down with something."

Slipping past Paige, I headed to my room to lie down. Exhaustion had overtaken me.

I slept through the night and woke up feeling refreshed the next morning. Making myself my usual cup of coffee, I also grabbed one of the muffins I'd bought yesterday and warmed it up in the microwave. Paige came walking down the hall and into the kitchen sleepily.

"What are you doing up so early?" I asked, knowing she normally was not a early morning person. Early morning to her was around eleven.

"I have a meeting with my parents." She yawned. "There's something my dad wants to talk to me about."

"Oh. What do you think it is?" I asked. Concern filled me suddenly; Paige's parents were not known for being very loving. If they wanted to see her for something in person, then it couldn't be good.

"I don't know," she said. She rummaged through the fridge for something to eat. Setting out the eggs and milk, she turned to face me. "I have to ask them to foot the bill for my half of the rent and utilities this month though, that job at Canard's didn't work out. I'm not cut out for selling kitchen equipment apparently."

"I could have told you that," I chuckled and took a bite of my muffin.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence." She pulled a mixing bowl out from a cabinet and cracked two eggs. Mixing in a splash or two of milk, she poured it all into a pan. "I mean, who would have thought selling people a freaking top-of-the-line blender would have been so hard?"

I laughed and shook my head. Taking a sip of my coffee, I watched as the eggs she was cooking curdled and bubbled in the pan. She spread them around with a plastic spatula. The scent of egg wafted to my nose, causing me to gag the same way I had last night. I bolted to the bathroom and tossed up the little bit of muffin and coffee I'd had.

Paige came barreling in after me. "Are you okay? What the hell was that about?"

I groaned into the toilet and shook my head. "I don't know."

"Well, you'd better be pregnant. If not and you've got something contagious and I get it, I am going to be so pissed."

"Seriously? You suck," I said.

"Oh shit, eggs!" Paige shouted as she bolted from where she'd stood to the kitchen.

Eggs. Yuck. Another round of heaving ricocheted through me. Pregnant, yeah right. And then it hit me. Jason and I hadn't used any protection.

My body broke out into a cold sweat and my heart pounded in my stomach hard and fast. No. There was no way I was pregnant. I was on the pill. But I'd also been taking antibiotics for my sinus infection...which canceled out birth control.

Oh, shit.

## Chapter 24

# Jason

My job at the golf course had been given to some dude I'd seen around campus and at a few parties. I didn't give a damn, it was a shit job anyway. My Jeep's transmission was about to take a dump. Blaire hadn't returned any of my Facebook messages and had been avoiding me like the plague at Cross Meadows. And Brian was stressing me about my half of the bills.

My life had turned into a fucking country song overnight.

I lay in my bed at the apartment, staring at the ceiling, wondering how I was going to be able to get my shit back in line and quick-like. I needed a new job. I needed money. Gramps' house was going to be mine and Mom's salvation, but it wasn't selling.

The sound of Brian and Sarah crashing through the apartment in a drunken splendor caught my attention. Their hushed voices, and Sarah's uncontrollable giggling, made me smirk. I jumped out of bed, taking this moment as a chance to really scare the shit out of them, and crept across my room as quietly as I could manage. Pausing at my door, I listened, trying to figure out where they were in the apartment. The sound of a cabinet slamming shut and then the faucet turning on let me know they were in the kitchen. Slowly opening my bedroom door, I inched myself out into the hall. Pausing just before the kitchen, I leaned against the wall and counted to five.

"What the hell are you doing!" I shouted as I jumped out at them.

Sarah screamed bloody murder before she folded over and turned into a puddle on the floor, laughing so hard she snorted. Brain jumped backward at the sink and dropped the glass he held in his hand. It shattered across the linoleum floor, splashing water and glass all over the kitchen.

"What the fuck, man?" Brian asked hotly. His eyes had nearly popped right out of his head. I couldn't contain my laughter. It bellowed out of me and echoed off the walls, mixing with Sarah's. "Jesus, dude, you scared the shit out of me!" He grinned.

"How was the party?" I asked, gathering control over myself before Brian came over and beat the shit out of me for making him look like a wuss in front of Sarah.

They'd gone to a party at one of the frat houses, but I hadn't felt like going. I'd decided to sit home and pout like a freaking baby about the way my life was shifting instead. Yeah, I was becoming _that_ loser.

"Nice, man. Kyle Dez brought his guitar and belted out a few awesome tunes. Blake Coleman barfed all over Allison Cambridge—like right in her fucking lap!" Brian said. He cleaned up the glass chunks in the kitchen and mopped up the water before getting another glass. "It was pretty epic, man."

"Sorry I missed it," I muttered. I truly was. Why was it the one party I decided to miss ended up being the best one of the year? Not fucking fair. Damn depression all to hell.

"It was great," Sarah slurred. It came out as one big word and she giggled at the end, making it sound strangled. "You missed it, Jason."

"Good God, how much did you let her drink?" I asked Brain while I watched Sarah lethargically move about on the floor. She was practically army crawling. "She's freaking wasted."

"I didn't _let_ her do anything... She did it all on her own. I don't control her, man."

"Right. All I meant is, she's had way, way too much. Didn't you even consider cutting her off?" Sarah flopped back down on the floor and pressed her head against the carpet like it was a blanket and abandoned any attempt at moving. "I'm surprised she didn't puke in your car on the ride here."

"You and me both." Brain grimaced while staring at her.

Sarah had passed out on the floor. Right in the middle of the living room. I don't think I'd ever seen her so wasted before. Normally it was Brian unable to make it to bed and crawling around on the floor through the apartment because he was too drunk to stand. They'd obviously decided to switch roles tonight.

"I guess I'd better haul her ass to bed, right?" Brain asked. He seemed so unsure of what to do with her it was ridiculous.

"Yeah," I said. "Prop her head up with some pillows, lay her on her side, and make sure you get the puke bucket from in the hall closet."

It was crazy how I could practically see him soaking up everything I'd just said to him. If they had any kids together in the near future, Brian was going to be the most spastic, funniest parent there ever was.

A smirk twisted my lips. That would be a sight to see. I couldn't wait.

Grabbing a bag of chips from off the counter, I flopped down on the couch and turned the TV on low. There was no way I could go back to bed now. I hadn't been sleeping anyway, might as well watch some reruns and eat some junk food. After all, that was the way insomnia was done, right?

Two hours of reruns and nearly half a bag of chips later, I went to my room for my phone. There wasn't crap on TV and I was dying to see if Blaire had managed to send me a message or post a picture of herself having fun somewhere.

With my phone in hand, I clicked on my Facebook app and started back down the hall toward the living room. While getting comfortable on the couch again, I realized the crazy girl I'd dated a while back, Bailey Green, was online. I grimaced at the little green dot beside her name. She was one of those people who were always on Facebook, apparently even at—I glanced at the top of my phone for the time—2:04 A.M.

Damn it. I was on Facebook at 2:04 A.M.

Now all I needed to become the type of person I hated most was to post an annoying status update that said something along the lines of "Can't sleep, so annoyed," to let the entirety of my Facebook friends know two things instantaneously about me: one, I had no flipping life. And two, I was suffering from insomnia.

Scrolling through updates from all the usual people, I frowned and was just about to get off when a single green circle caught my attention. Blaire was on Facebook. My heart began to pound in an unnatural rhythm against my ribcage. A long list of "should I's" barreled through my mind. Should I send her a message? Should I get off real quick? Should I ignore the fact that I'd noticed she was on? Before I had time to decide on what to do...she messaged me.

**Hey. I'm kind of glad you're on here right now. How are you?**

My breath rushed from my lungs all too quickly and I felt lightheaded. She was talking to me. Jesus, I was pathetic.

**You're glad I'm on Facebook at two in the morning? You'd think this would be something of concern, unless this is a regular occurrence for you. Are you an all-nighter Facebook type?**

Stuffing my face with another handful of chips, I waited for her response, hoping I wasn't blowing it by trying to seem humorous.

**It's actually not a normal occurrence for me to be on here this late, or even up at this time of night/morning. I've been contemplating something all day and my mind just won't rest.**

I knew the feeling well; it's why I was up too, but I wasn't about to delve into the craptasticness that was my life at the moment.

**Well, Facebook is good for occupying the mind and killing time. It's also good for keeping tabs on people without having to let them in on your stalker tendencies. And for uploading pictures and statuses that make people think your life is more interesting than it really is. What did we ever do without it?**

I'd hit send before I had time to think about what I'd typed. Great. Now she'd think I was Facebook stalking her and not as interesting as what my page seemed to make me.

**LOL. I'm not sure. Listen, I'd like to go on that second date with you, if the offer still stands?**

Had I read that right? Was she seriously asking me out on a second date after she'd so coldly rejected me when I'd asked? She'd left me standing in the pouring rain, staring after her retreating form. It had been like a scene from a freaking romance movie.

**Name the place and time. I'll be there.**

Damn, I was easy.

**What are you doing tomorrow night?**

Tomorrow night. I could swing that. I didn't have a job anymore and I was sure Brian and Sarah wouldn't miss me.

**You mean tomorrow night as in Sunday night or tomorrow night as in tonight, Saturday?**

I hit send and hoped she didn't think I was being a technical ass. I was just giving her hell.

**Tonight as in Saturday night, sorry. How about dinner at Verde Guacamole?**

She was pulling out all the stops. Verde Guacamole had the best Mexican food, as well as margaritas, I'd ever had the pleasure of ingesting.

**Sounds awesome. Did you know Mexican food is a favorite of mine?**

Why had I asked that? Of course she didn't...unless she'd stalked my Facebook page.

**I do now. What time works for you? I don't have to work, so I'm open all night.**

There was a sexual innuendo there for the taking, but I didn't want to press my luck, so I let it slip.

**How about seven? Want me to pick you up?**

Verde Guacamole was in Coldcreek, but I had no issue with driving to the university to pick Blaire up.

**No. We can just meet there. See you at seven. Goodnight.**

**Goodnight.**

## Chapter 25

# Blaire

Verde Guacamole was the only Mexican restaurant in Coldcreek, and just like Jason had said, it was a favorite of mine as well. Glancing in my rearview mirror, I wiped the black eyeliner from under my eyes and ran my fingers through my hair. Letting out a long breath, I swore to myself that I could do this, I was strong. My fingers shook as they gripped the handle of my car door.

What if he freaked out? What if he didn't believe me?

Those were the two main questions that had festered and grown since holding that little white stick yesterday afternoon and seeing the faint pink plus sign glaring up at me. If I didn't tell him now, while the information was still new to me, then I might never tell him. I'd become one of those bat-shit crazy women who waited until the kid was nine before they told the father they even had a child together.

I refused to be that woman.

This was why I had contacted Jason through Facebook, why I'd stalked his page practically all afternoon and well into the night, wondering how to ask him out. Initially I had planned on going with a straightforward message that simply said I needed to talk with him and listed a time and place. It had been Paige's idea and Lauren had seconded it. But it seemed too cryptic and full of mystery to me once I'd gotten sight of his profile pic and stared at that charming smile. I didn't want to start the evening with him being on edge, wondering what was going on and what had possessed me to contact him in such a way.

I'd sort of failed in that department anyway, because I was positive those thoughts had still run through his head when I'd asked him if the offer for that second date still stood. Oh well. It was said and here I was, sitting in the parking lot, attempting to gather enough courage to go through with telling him I was pregnant.

I was pregnant. Holy hell.

The desire to start my car and burn rubber out of the parking lot was almost too strong to overcome. Gripping the door handle tighter, I took one more glance in the rearview mirror and decided my face looked too pale. Pinching my cheeks to add a bit of color, I slung open my car door and slammed it shut behind me. Scurrying across the parking lot, I beelined it for the brightly painted set of double doors. They were a vibrant shade of green. I guessed this was a marketing/branding point they were trying to drive home—the color green.

I'd come here a million times and never once noticed the color of their doors. My mind was all over the place. Pulling the doors open just enough for me to squeeze through, I stood in place at the oversized tan desk just inside. The scent of spicy Mexican foods mingling in the air caused me to crinkle my nose. I prayed I would be able to make it through this dinner without having to bolt for the nearest restroom. It would ruin Mexican food for me for a while, as well as ruin the night.

"How many?" the host dressed in a tan shirt and black pants asked in a thick accent as he grazed his eyes over me. His hand reached out for a menu from within the clear holder hanging on the wall without removing his eyes from me, as though he'd performed the task a million times.

"I'm meeting someone," I said. My voice was thick and small. "A guy, can I just check to see if he's here already?"

The host nodded and made a sweeping gesture with his hand. "Of course."

Walking past him, I began searching the dining area for Jason. After sweeping my eyes around a few times, I scolded myself for not thinking to look for his Jeep in the parking lot first. On my way back to the front, I saw him walk through the door. He glanced around the place, same as I had, and told the host a similar version of what I'd said. A smile broke out on my face at the sight of him.

Then I remembered this wasn't a typical date. The news I was about to unload on him was life changing, for both of us.

Jason met my stare as I walked to him. His lips twisted into a lazy smile and he crammed his hands into his front pockets. He was adorable. The threat of tears pricked my eyes and stung the back of my throat.

I would not cry.

"Hey," he said. "How are you?"

"I'm all right," I replied, pausing in front of him.

"Table for two, please," he said, shifting his attention to the host.

Two menus were pulled from the holder and we were motioned to follow to our seats. Once we were seated at a booth near the back of the room, Jason turned his charming smile on me.

"So, what made you decide to retract your decision about a second date?" he asked. I could see the glimmer of wariness enter his eyes.

I hated that I'd put it there, but then I reminded myself it had been because of his actions that I'd denied him before. Marla Danes popped into my head and I felt my lips twist into a sour expression.

"I don't know." I forced a small smile. My stomach was hard as a rock.

Our waiter came up to our table just then. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"I'll take a medium Texas-style margarita, frozen, please," Jason said before I could order my drink first. Obviously, he was eager to get a margarita to his lips. "Do you want one too?"

"No," I said a little too quickly. "I'll take water with lemon, please."

"Really? I'm paying, just so you know," Jason insisted, as though this new knowledge would sway me into drinking a fishbowl with him.

"No, water is fine. Really." I dropped my eyes to the tabletop and began picking at the napkin edge of my silverware roll.

"All right, suit yourself," he said with a shrug. He shook his head when the waiter walked away. "I can't believe you're turning down the best margaritas in town."

My muscles tensed. I opened my mouth to snap at him, but thought better of it. "I'll be right back. I'm going to the restroom." I had to take a moment to calm my irrational flare of temper and emotions before I let the cat out of the bag like a freaking bomb. "Can you order some of that white cheese dip when he comes back with our drinks, please?" I asked.

"Sure." He smiled up at me.

Pursing my lips together, I made my way to the restroom. Heading straight for the sink, I turned the cold water on and let it run over my wrists. I took in a few deep breaths and thought of how I was going to broach the subject with him. It would be easier to just flat out say it, but I didn't want to scare him off. I wanted to ease him into it. Well, as best I could.

After a few minutes of thinking, and still not being able to come up with a gentle way of breaking the news to him, I decided my reasonable amount of time for being in the bathroom had long ago come to an end.

Jason was sitting at our booth when I came out, double dipping a tortilla chip into the cheese dip I'd had him order. "Hey, I saw that." I smirked, sliding into the booth across from him.

"Saw what?" he asked, feigning mock innocence.

"That double dip-adge going on." I pointed to the dip.

"Guilty as charged. I double dipped."

"Gross," I chuckled. It felt good to laugh, too good. Jesus, how was I going to make it through this night?

"She laughs," Jason said. His blue eyes glimmered with mockery when I met them.

My lips betrayed me as they twisted into a small smile. I shouldn't be smiling right now, not when there was something serious to be said. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

He shrugged while taking a swig of his margarita. His tongue darted out to lick the crystals of salt off his lips. "Just that you've seemed a little stressed this evening. Do I make you uncomfortable?" The way the words fell from his lips and the tone he used when he said them reminded me of dirty-talking foreplay.

"Yes, you make me all kinds of nervous," I admitted for reasons beyond my grasp.

"And why is that, Miss Hayes?"

"I have my reasons." I bit my lip and then took a sip of my lemon water.

Our waiter came back, this time to take our order. Being a creature of habit I ordered my usual, a chicken quesadilla with white cheese on top. Jason ordered the steak fajitas and I said a silent prayer that he hadn't opted for the shrimp, because I didn't think I could handle the scent of seafood at the moment.

"You never did answer my question earlier, but I want to say thank you. I'm glad you asked me out tonight," Jason said as the waiter walked away.

My eyes locked across the table with his. He was serious. "Me too," I said, wishing the circumstances were a little better. God, he was going to hate me once he realized why I'd wanted this date with him. My stomach knotted even more and I thought for a split second I might vomit. "So, I sat with your grandfather the other day for a while. He seems to be doing a little better. I got him to eat a few bites of his meal and drink some water."

The conversation stayed on his grandfather and the things Jason had been doing lately, and then it bounced to me. It was a tetherball of topics, springing from him to me until our food came. Somewhere along the string of conversation I decided to wait until his fishbowl of a margarita was nearly empty before I broke the news to him. My reasoning was simple—he would be relaxed by then and in a predominantly good mood.

I hoped I was right.

My eyes flicked to his glass, watching as its contents diminished by the minute. Once I spotted the final few sips swirling in the bottom, my heart grew heavy and a tightness formed in my chest. The moment of truth had come. Putting my fork down, I slicked my hands against my skirt and licked my lips. I'd never been one who enjoyed dumping news on an unsuspecting person. Ever. But that was the position I'd found myself in at the moment. I had to do this. There was no way around it.

"So, I came here to tell you something, actually," I said. My voice sounded wrong, all raw and clogged with mucus like I was sick or something. I cleared my throat.

"Really? And what would that be?" he asked in a naive fashion. Obviously he thought I was making a failed attempt at flirting with him.

I took a deep breath and decided the best way to go about this was to remind him of the last time we were together...what we'd been doing. "Well, you remember our last date, right?" I asked hesitantly.

His eyes met mine and he made this face that seemed to imply I was stupid. "Umm, yeah."

"You remember what we did?" I bit my bottom lip while waiting for him to see where I was going with this. I assumed if he could figure it out on his own it would somehow lessen the blow, but he didn't appear to be getting what I was hinting at. Not at all. "Unprotected..."

He stopped chewing. A blank look formed on his face, his eyebrows squinted together, and he swallowed hard before responding.

"Yeah..." He dragged the word out and held my stare. He knew right where I was going with this. At least he thought he did, but I could see the denial already building behind his eyes. My stomach flipped and my heart raced. I waited for him to say the words aloud so I wouldn't have to, but he never did. The question I saw burning in his blue eyes never made it to his lips.

Swallowing hard, I held his stare. "Well, I ended up having to take a test yesterday." I stopped. The pause in my words was unexpected even to me, but the look in his eyes, the paleness that washed out his face all of a sudden, was enough to make me question whether I should continue forward. After a few moments of Jason staring blankly at me, I realized I had no choice. He wasn't going to ask, he was simply waiting for me to finish. "I'm pregnant, Jason."

## Chapter 26

# Jason

All I could do was stare at her like some dumb fuck. A coldness had knocked me directly in the gut the second the words passed from her lips; it spread through my body at a rate far too fast, causing me to worry that I might pass out. Pressing my hands firmly against the edge of the table, I leaned back a little. Blaire just sat there, fiddling with the half-eaten quesadilla in front of her with her fork. She was waiting for me to say something, to react in some way other than being mute. I knew this, but there was nothing I could do in the moment. I was frozen.

"I know we aren't even a couple or whatever, and I'm not looking for anything like that, I just thought you had a right to know. That's all," she said. Her words were so soft and sad.

"What are you going to do?" I asked. My voice sounded harsh and cruel even to my ears.

Blaire sat up straighter and I felt her eyes bore into me from across the table. "What do you mean?"

I risked a glance at her. The expression on her face made guilt slosh through my stomach. Her eyes were wide, like my words had smacked her. "Well, I mean, what do you wanna do? You're the girl."

What the hell was I saying? I knew those words were so insensitive and asshole-ish I deserved to be slapped, but I couldn't take them back. They'd already been said.

" _I'm the girl_?" she asked sharply.

I smoothed my hands over my face. "That's not what I meant to say. It didn't come out right. I'm just saying that it's your body and whatever you decide to do is okay with me."

Damn it, that was no better. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

She let out a loud breath. "I just—I don't know." Tears glistened in her eyes and I hated myself. I should have said something better. Why the hell did the wrong thing continue to fumble from my mouth?

"I don't know either." It was the truth, but again, not something I should have said aloud. My shoulders sunk. I glanced at the empty margarita glass in front of me, wishing it would magically fill itself to the rim again.

"I didn't expect you to be all happy about this, but..." She trailed off and shook her head. When I looked at her, tears were making their way down her cheeks. "I expected more than you saying _you're the girl_ and then insinuating I could have an abortion if I want."

"I freaked, okay? I'm still freaking out a bit." I threw my hands up in the air to emphasize my point. I was beyond attempting to refrain from sounding like an ass. "I thought you said you were on the pill!"

"I am!" Her words were clipped. "I was also taking antibiotics for the sinus infection I had the week before."

That meant nothing to me.

"What the hell does that have to do with your birth control?" I asked, taking note of how loud my tone had gotten. People were staring now, but I didn't give a damn. My world was blasting apart at the seams over here.

"It has everything to do with it. It canceled out my pill, okay." She slung her purse strap over her shoulder and began inching out of the booth. "Forget I even said anything to you about it. All I wanted was to let you know. I can see you clearly don't give a shit, though. Thanks."

She was gone before I could think of words that would bring her back. I pressed the palms of my hands into my eyes and sat there, thinking over everything that had just been said.

She was pregnant. And I was going to be a dad.

What the fuck had just happened?

When the waiter came to see how our meal was, I had him take away her plate and ordered myself another margarita. I wasn't the type who generally agreed when people chose to drown their sorrows with alcohol, but I did think people were entitled to escape from their mind every now and then. Right now, that was exactly what I was choosing to do. I was escaping life, escaping the news Blaire had just given me, and fuck anyone who tried to tell me that I wasn't entitled to in this moment.

The waiter brought me my drink. It was a darker color than the last, making me wonder if our little spat hadn't been overheard by him and he took pity on me. I could smell the tequila without even putting the glass to my nose, it was that strong.

Pregnant.

The thought both excited and terrified me at the same time. I shook my head and gripped the glass in front of me. Tipping it back, I allowed myself to escape a little more. I'd think about what this all meant later.

A noise, loud and annoying, woke me from my slumber the next morning. I rolled over in bed, kicking my sheets that had twisted around me off in the process. It was my phone ringing. My hands moved along my face in a rough rubbing motion. How the hell had I made it home? I'd lost count of how many margaritas I'd had after Blaire stormed off, leaving me at our table all alone. What the hell had happened last night? Sitting up in bed, I ran my fingers through my hair and let out a loud breath, annoyed that my phone hadn't gone to voicemail yet. Last night's bombshell dropped on me all over again.

Holy shit, I was going to be a dad.

Darting out of bed as soon as the phone stopped ringing, I wondered for a split second if it had been Blaire calling. Halfway to where the phone sat on my dresser, I remembered I still had yet to give my number to her. It was Brian. He'd left a voicemail and I clicked to listen to it.

"Hey, man, just wanted to see if you were gonna be headed back today or not. Let me know 'cuz we def don't want a repeat of that one time. You know what I'm talking about." Brian paused and chuckled into the phone. "Yeah, so hit me up."

He and Sarah were getting serious. She'd practically moved in already. It was odd how in the short time I'd been traveling back and forth this had happened. Honestly though, it was probably bound to happen at some point. I looked for Brian and Sarah to be married with 2.5 kids in five years or less.

Married. Was that what I should do with Blaire? I laughed out loud as a random thought surged through my mind. Hadn't I just thought about the two of them having a kid and now here I was with one on the way?

Life could be pretty fucking ironic that way.

## Chapter 27

# Blaire

"I got new pastel colors the other day. Do you want a pale yellow, pink, or baby blue?" Paige asked. As soon as the word "baby" came from her mouth her eyes grew wide. "I've got regular colors too if pastels aren't your thing."

Yellow reminded me of the dress I'd worn that night with Jason. Pink reminded me of a baby girl. And blue brought thoughts of a baby boy to mind. I knew Paige was trying her damnedest to make me feel better, and I loved her for it, but she wasn't helping.

"What about that metallic silver color you used to have?" I asked.

"Moonlight Silver it is," she said. She rummaged through the basket of nail polishes she'd gathered over the last few years. The girl was a nail polish junkie. "Found it."

Lauren came from in the kitchen with a bag of chocolate tucked under one arm and a plate of cheesy nachos in her hand.

"Sweet and spicy," she said. She set the plate down on the coffee table and tossed the bag of chocolate beside it. "Chip?" She motioned to the plate.

I reached out and scooped one up. "Thanks."

While Paige painted my toenails, I ate and thought about everything Jason had said last night. I'd been so upset when I returned home that I'd thrown up my entire meal and then some. Paige had been so worried she'd called Lauren, and Lauren had rushed right over to sit with me as well. They'd consoled my endless sobbing and listened to me blubber for hours about what I was going to do now.

I was lost.

Thinking of last night caused tears to pool in my eyes all over again. How could a person cry so much?

"Stop it," Lauren scolded me. "You're thinking about everything again and you shouldn't be. You need to relax and de-stress some. It's not doing you any good reminding yourself what he said and worrying about what you're going to do."

"That's easier said than done," I said. I popped another cheese-covered chip in my mouth and wiped my fingertips on the edge of my jean shorts. "I just wish he had reacted differently."

"Maybe he'll come around, who knows?" Paige said. She put another coat of silver on my pinky toe and smiled up at me. "You did sort of drop the biggest, earth-shattering news imaginable on him over dinner."

Closing my eyes, I leaned back against the couch and sucked a tiny piece of tortilla chip from between my teeth. "You're right. I know I did."

"He could have chosen to handle the situation better, though. I mean, let's not forget he said she was _the girl_ ," Lauren piped in. "I mean, seriously, what the fuck kind of dickhead thing was that to say?"

I laughed, but truthfully it boiled my blood and brought tears to my eyes to even be reminded of those words. "It's not like I wanted him to jump for joy or get down on one knee. I would have been okay with him looking shocked and then asking me if I was serious first instead of saying _what are you going to do_ like everything was all on me."

"Okay, that was a dumb thing to say. I'll give you that, but you have to see it from his point of view... He was shocked shitless," Paige said.

I cocked my head to the side and glared at her. "Why are you defending him so much?"

"I'm not."

"You are," Lauren agreed. She scooped up another chip and took a bite out of it.

"Well, I don't mean to be," Paige insisted. She tapped my foot and had me place my other one in front of her. "I guess I can just see both sides." She shrugged.

Paige was right. There were two sides to this and I was stuck viewing only one of them.

"So, what are you saying—that I should give him some time or call him or something?" I asked.

"I don't think you should call him," Lauren butted in. Her mouth was full of chips, but it was easy enough to understand her. "If it were me, I wouldn't. I'd wait until he called me."

Waiting for him to call seemed bitchy, but non-clingy. I liked the idea of that.

"I think you should call him if he hasn't called you in, say...three days. Give both of yourselves time to think rationally about things and decide what you want from each other. I mean, he has to know from the conversation you already had with him that you plan to keep the baby. So now really all there is to decide is whether he's going to be a part of its life and how," Paige said.

I pursed my lips together. Paige was right, too.

"You two suck," I said, dropping my head back against the couch. "You're not helping me any in deciding what to do."

Paige capped the nail polish and placed it on the coffee table. She moved to sit beside me, tucking her leg beneath her. Silence bloomed between us, growing more awkward by the second.

"All right, so which movie are we watching first— _Step Brothers_ or _Zombieland_?" Lauren asked. She slid off the couch and started across the room.

" _Step Brothers_ first and then _Zombieland_ ," I said.

We were staying in for the night and instead of watching chick-flick romantic comedies like the three of us loved, we'd decided to forgo anything with sappiness or romance as the main plot.

"Even though this movie is about guys who could be my dad acting like freaking teenagers, it's still hilarious!" Paige said.

I got up to make some popcorn before the movie started—nachos weren't doing it for me.

"I know, right?" Lauren laughed. "Cracks me up every time!"

After putting the popcorn into the microwave, I walked over to where my phone was charging. I didn't know why I cared to check the damn thing and see if Jason had sent me a text. I knew he hadn't, because I hadn't heard the thing go off. Also, we'd still never exchanged numbers. So, even if he wanted to call me or text, he couldn't.

"Put the phone down," Lauren shouted at me in a fake police tone. "Step away slowly."

"I was just checking to see if it was fully charged yet," I lied.

"Doesn't matter. We're about to get our laugh on, you don't need your phone for nothing right now," Lauren insisted.

"She's right. Take a mental break with us," Paige insisted. The microwave beeped. "Your popcorn is done; get your butt over here. The movie is starting."

I rolled my eyes and let go of my phone. I'd have to check my Facebook later to see if Jason had tried to contact me there. Or maybe I'd leave him my number finally, that way when/if he wanted to call or text he could. Grabbing the bag of popcorn from the microwave, I headed back to my spot on the couch. Halfway through the movie my phone went off. I jumped up to answer it while Paige paused the movie. My sister's name and number lit up my screen.

"Hey, what's up?" I asked. My voice was controlled and normal. It had to be when I talked with her or else she'd know something was wrong.

Bonnie sighed into the phone. "Hey. Nothing. I know it's late to be calling, but I really need a favor from you."

I glanced at the clock on the microwave. It was only a little after nine. "Okay."

"You know that summer festival in town they always have?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"Well, it's coming up soon. Brice was supposed to watch Tinley for me, but now he's saying he's going to go golfing with some guys from work that weekend instead. Mom can't watch her. She's got something with those ladies in that book club she's part of going on the same day and I don't have anyone else. Are you doing anything?"

"You signed up to get a table at the town festival?"

"Yeah," she said. There was pride in her voice.

I loved that she was branching out, regardless if she didn't have her husband's full support. My sister was so strong. "Sure, I can watch her for you."

"Oh my God, Blaire, you're a lifesaver. Seriously," Bonnie gushed. "Thank you so much."

"No problem." I popped another piece of popcorn in my mouth. "What is Brice's problem? I really hope you set him straight."

"I did." She sighed. "We've been having it out all day. Honestly I'm hoping he realizes how much this means to me and decides to forgo the stupid golfing trip. If so then you're off the hook, but I needed a backup plan."

"Well, I'll do it if he doesn't. Maybe it's time you make him though." My blood was boiling. I hated how he treated her sometimes. He could be such an ass.

"Blaire, it's not that simple. Maybe if you were in a relationship with kids you'd understand," she insisted.

I bit my lip. It took everything I had to not tell her I was pregnant. "Maybe."

"Listen, I have to go. Tinley was supposed to be in bed an hour ago, but Brice gave her chocolate ice cream and now she's bouncing off the freaking walls."

I laughed. "Give her a kiss for me. I'll talk to you later. Love you."

"Love you too. Bye."

"Bye." I clicked "end call" and unplugged my phone from its charger.

"What was that about?" Paige asked.

"Nothing much. I'm watching Tinley for a Saturday while Bonnie does her table in the summer festival, because Brice decided golfing was more important than supporting his wife." I walked back to where I'd been sitting and kicked my feet up on the coffee table.

"I have yet to meet Brice, but from what I've heard of him, he sounds like an ass," Lauren said. Her words were laced with disgust.

"Yeah, you're not missing much," Paige muttered.

"He's just selfish and he doesn't treat my sister the way he should sometimes," I said.

"If you and Jason get married and raise this kid together, you'd better make sure you train him right and don't let him get away with selfish shit like that," Lauren insisted.

Images of Bonnie and Brice's relationship flashed through my mind. Dear God, I hoped we wouldn't end up being like them. I crammed a handful of popcorn in my mouth as Paige unpaused the movie.

No, there was no way Jason and I would end up like that if we chose to raise this baby together. No way.

## Chapter 28

# Jason

It was Sunday night. My hangover from fishbowl margaritas last night was long gone and even though I'd sworn to myself when I'd woken up this morning I wouldn't drink for a few days, I found myself craving an ice-cold beer. I'd spent my day puttering around Gramps' house, making shit up to do. I hadn't wanted to be around anyone all day. There was peace in solitude. Some might say I'd been brooding all day, and those people might be right, but I didn't like to think of it that way. I was merely trying to decide what my next step in life should be now.

I was going to be a freaking dad.

The realization of what I needed to do sank in with heavy force. Now all I needed to figure out was how to tell Blaire what I wanted without sounding like a dickhead or like I felt forced into being with her because of the baby. I'd pondered all the possible angles all day until I was one-hundred percent sober and hangover free.

I imagined tone would be the first place to start. I needed to make sure my tone when talking with her was normal. Blaire wasn't the type to be sugarcoated or sweet-talked into believing things. Then I'd have to focus on the words I chose to say. There could be no space left in the conversation for her to doubt that I wanted to do the right thing on my own accord. She couldn't think that, because of the circumstances, I felt forced into being with her. I needed to make her believe the truth—that I'd wanted to be with her before all of this.

Running my fingers through my hair, I looked out at the lake in my grandfather's backyard. This was the most peaceful place to think. All I could see was lush grass, tall cattails, trees, and water. There was no loud music or people screaming at each other like at my apartment.

I would hate to see this place go when it finally sold.

My cell rang. I pulled it out and glanced at the screen, knowing it wouldn't be who I wanted to talk to—it wouldn't be Blaire. She was pregnant with my freaking kid and I still didn't have her number. That was wrong on so many levels. Matt's name and number was what I saw instead.

"What's up?" I answered.

"Where have you been this weekend? I thought you said you were in town, dude?"

"I am." I ran my hand over my face and extended my legs out, crossing them at the ankles. "I've just been busy."

"You busy now?" he asked.

"Nope."

"Where are you? Me and Marla will come get you. You're coming drinking with us, again."

I grinned into the phone. "Oh really?"

"Hell yeah. Come on."

"All right." I chuckled at his enthusiasm. "I'm at my Gramps' house. Swing by there."

"See you in a few," Matt said. He hung up before I could respond.

Cradling my phone between my palms, I hunched over and rested my elbows against my knees. Partying with Matt and Marla would definitely give me a moment to escape again. Bonus, I wouldn't be drinking and driving myself home this time. Marla would be the D.D., I was sure. Tomorrow I would be able to think hard and chase my hangover away again while deciding the things I needed to say to put Blaire at ease and allow me to be where I was supposed to be—by her side through all of this.

My hands slid around my fourth beer and I leaned back against the bar, feeling the counter dig into my back and press against my spine in an uncomfortable way. I didn't move though. The fact I was sitting here, enjoying myself with a beer in my hand and Marla making bedroom eyes at me, seemed wrong in more ways than one. I should be fixing things with Blaire, we should be figuring out what we wanted to do next.

"You look like you have a shit-load on your mind, sugar," Marla said. She twirled the skinny straw in her soda with her fingertips. "Is there anything I could be doing to take your mind off things?"

I didn't miss the innuendo present in her words. It rang out loud and clear. "After another one of these I'll be just fine," I assured her, raising my beer.

Marla slid her stool closer to mine and crossed her mile-long legs slowly, drawing my attention to them. I glanced over at Matt; he was talking with some girl who had a sash around her that said _21st Fucking Birthday_. Obviously he and Marla were not an item tonight. Had it been her idea to ask what I was doing for the night? Was this a setup? If so, I wasn't interested. In fact, it couldn't have been worse timing—now I was going to have to reject Marla, and I already knew from previous experience with her that it wouldn't end well when I did.

"Take another picture with me," she demanded suddenly. It was the most random thing to come from her lips tonight.

I shook my head and took a long swig of my beer. "Nah, not right now."

"Please?" Her bottom lip poked out just like it always used to when I'd ever attempted to deny her anything.

It made me grin. "Put that thing away. It doesn't work on me anymore."

Her eyes widened as though I'd just given her a challenge she gladly accepted. "Mark my words, Jason Bryant, by the end of this night, you'll do whatever I say when my bottom lip comes out to beg."

I stared at her. Her signature red lips had twisted themselves into a perfect little bow of a smile. "We'll see about that... _sugar_ ," I countered, mimicking her.

Marla raised her cup and toasted to me, confirming what I'd thought seconds before. The challenge had been accepted by her and I knew I was in for it now. She stood and strutted over to the neon glowing jukebox. Her ass poked out as she bent over to flip through the songs, like she didn't already know the numbers to push for the one she wanted to hear. Marla was at Blue's nearly every night; she was what some guys referred to as a Bar Whore. She knew which buttons on that jukebox played what. It had been long ago etched into her memory.

I pulled my eyes from her long, tanned legs and glanced around the bar at all the assholes salivating at the mouth while staring at her. She was a sexy little thing, I had to give her credit there, but she wasn't for me. Not anymore.

Matt walked to the stool beside me and sat. He called to the bartender and ordered five shots of tequila. "Shh, I'm buying a round for you, me, and those three beauties sitting over there." He pointed to where he'd been standing, talking with the birthday girl and her two friends. "Don't tell Marla I didn't buy her one. Here, help me carry these over there."

He scooped up three shots between his fingers and nodded to the two left. Marla sauntered over to us as the song she'd chosen— _Pony_ by _Ginuwine_ —began to blast through the bar. There were some hoots and hollers after her, along with some foul-mouthed catcalls. If any other girl in this place had decided to play that song in particular, they would have been booed at. But not Marla. Every guy in here was waiting for her to dance to it.

"One of those bad boys for me?" she asked. Her hip cocked to the side as she stopped in front of me and flashed me a flirty smile.

Damn, she looked good.

I licked my lips as I met her stare. A jolt of excitement surged through my body, congregating in my pants, from the smoldering look swirling within those blue eyes of hers. She really knew how to get exactly what she wanted from a guy.

"Nope," Matt said. He nudged my arm. "Come on, man. They're waiting."

I scooped up the remaining shot glasses and followed Matt, glad to be away from Marla. We had no sooner set the glasses down in the center of the table and Matt had introduced me, when Marla came over with a shot glass of something of her own. She threw her arm over my shoulder with a large, friendly smile plastered on her face.

"Hey, happy twenty-first!" she shouted. "Let's toast!" Her arm left my shoulder to wrap around my waist and pull me up against her. Matt shot her an annoyed look and I just stood there. What the hell was she doing?

"Raise 'em up, ladies!" Matt shouted. His face was red from all the alcohol he had already consumed, but he was willing to drink more if it meant he could sleep with the birthday girl. "Let's toast to turning twenty-one! It only happens once in a person's life, so you'd better make the best of it tonight, princess!"

We all raised our shot glasses and toasted to that. Whistles and shouts rang out from the girls and Matt. Marla pulled her cell from her pocket and tapped the girl nearest to her on the shoulder.

"Can you take a few pictures of me and my boyfriend?" she asked in that super-sweet tone of hers.

It hit me then—Marla meant pictures with me. She was practically branding me as hers in front of these girls. "Marla, I don't think—" I started, but she cut me off.

"Come on, sugar. Please?" She poked out that damn bottom lip of hers and I felt put on the spot.

"Aww, you two are so stinkin' cute!" the girl holding Marla's phone shouted over the music. "You look made for each other."

"Thanks." Marla grinned. She maneuvered herself to where she was pressed up against me even more and wrapped my arms around her. That was picture one. Picture two was steamy and reeked heavily of seduction. "Keep taking pictures," Marla instructed the girl.

She spun around to face me and pressed her ruby red lips directly to mine. My hands were oddly wrapped around her at the time and she adjusted them until they rested on her ass while she continued to kiss me.

I took a step back, the sound of the camera on her phone still clicking away. "Marla, look... I can't... It's..." I couldn't even finish a damn sentence I was so shocked.

"Aww, he's shy! How sweet!" the girl with the phone laughed at me.

A hum of laughter burst from all the girls at the table, including Marla, and I couldn't breathe. I shouldn't be here. This wasn't right. I'd fucked up with Blaire and I needed to figure out how to fix it. I couldn't do that here. Not like this.

I did the only thing I knew to do—I called my mom in the middle of the night and had her come pick me up like a fucking loser.

## Chapter 29

# Blaire

The first thing I did when I woke up on Monday morning was check my Facebook. If Paige and Lauren knew how many times throughout our girl night I'd checked to see if Jason had messaged me, they would have been pissed. I couldn't help it though. At this point it had become a sickness. I needed to know the second he chose to say something to me, if ever.

No message bubble from him came up when Facebook opened. Heaviness entered my body at the same time my heart felt as though it shrunk to the size of a pea in my chest. Was he ever going to talk to me? Did he even care? Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes.

Scrolling through my news feed, I glanced halfheartedly at everyone's new updates and pictures of crazy things they'd done over the weekend. A set of pictures caught my attention and brought my heart to a standstill. They were pictures of Jason and Marla. New pictures. Ones taken last night, apparently; at least. that's what Marla's tag said. In them she was dressed like the She-Devil from hell that she was and Jason looked plastered. The first picture was of them kissing chastely, his hands wrapped around her. The second was of her hands sliding up to grip his as they continued to kiss. And the third was of them continuing that endless kiss with his hands cupping her ass.

While I had been worrying myself sick and attempting to let my best friends cheer me up, he'd been out partying at the bar with Marla. Again.

My heart pounded so loudly that it roared in my ears. How could he? Obviously he didn't give two shits about me or this baby he'd helped create. Time seemed to stand still as I mulled this over repeatedly. I'd closed out my Facebook, but the images were still engraved in my mind. Each time my eyes closed the pictures flashed in vivid clarity.

Forcing myself out of bed, I grabbed the scrubs and underwear I'd set out the night before, and headed to my bathroom for a long hot shower before I had to be to work. When I was finished, I made my way to the kitchen to make myself a bagel with cream cheese. Lauren was up, standing in the kitchen, sipping a cup of coffee, but Paige was still asleep. Knowing her, she'd be asleep for a while.

"Hey," Lauren said over the rim of her cup. "How are you feeling this morning?"

"Fine, I guess." I went to the fridge and searched for the bagels.

"Don't lie. You look like shit."

I narrowed my eyes at her. "Gee, don't sugarcoat it any, please."

"You know me well enough by now to know that I don't do the whole sugarcoating thing." She smirked. "But seriously, you don't look like you slept well last night, and considering I was the one who slept on the couch, I find that sort of ironic."

"I have a lot on my mind lately." My voice cracked. The tears I thought the shower had washed away pooled in my eyes once more. I shook my head, hoping to shake them away before they fell. "A lot."

Images of Marla and Jason crept back into my head. How was my first child going to be born into a nonexistent relationship like this? How had I let this happen? I'd been so stupid.

Exhaling, I popped the bagel in the toaster and grabbed a paper towel. Lauren moved to stand beside me. She pulled me into her arms and hugged me.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I figured being an ass would lighten the mood and make you laugh. I didn't mean to make you cry."

"I'm not crying," I said. I wiped the pooling tears from my eyes before they spilled over completely.

"Yes, you are. It's okay, you know," she whispered. "You can cry. You deserve to."

"No. I don't," I sobbed, unable to keep my tears at bay any longer. "This is supposed to be a happy moment in my life. I should be happy when I'm pregnant, not a blubbering mess, angry and pissed at the father. This is _so_ not the way I wanted this phase of my life to go."

"Things happen for a reason. I've always been a firm believer in that."

"Then why this? Why now?" I asked. My sobs were growing louder and it was harder to catch my breath in between. I was a mess.

"I don't know," she said. "I'm sorry, but you know me and Paige are always here for you. Whatever you need."

"I know," I said. And I did. They were honest friends and I loved them for it.

"Everything will be fine." She pulled away and retrieved my bagel from the toaster. I watched as she spread on the cream cheese. "You only told him on Saturday. Give him some time. I think he'll come around."

Tears streamed down my cheeks in full force at her words. "No, he won't," I sobbed. "I saw his Facebook this morning. He's been partying at the bar, kissing some slut we went to high school with named Marla all night."

"What?" Lauren sounded just as pissed as I'd felt when I first saw the pictures. "What the hell is his problem?"

I hung my head. "I don't know."

"Here, eat." She shoved the bagel at me.

"I'm not hungry now."

"I don't care. Eat," she insisted. "Will hearing someone else's shitty news cheer you up? It always does me."

I chuckled. "Sure, it's worth a shot."

"All right." Lauren grinned. "You ready for this? Jimmy Moon only wants me for my body."

"What? Not Jimmy Moon!" I laughed, because I'd known that was all he was after from the start and so had Lauren. This was no surprise at all.

"Seriously, he _told_ me."

"He did not."

She nodded. "He did. The other night. Right after we had sex."

"Wow, he's got balls!" I said, unbelieving a guy could be so bold.

"Oh, that he does." She winked at me. "So, I'm being used. Honestly, I don't care though. I'm using him too. The sex is amazing. He can use me all he wants."

I balked at her. She was always so carefree, so hippy-like, a free soul. I envied that about her. I was more scheduled and structured with everything. A control freak. Lauren was the type that would travel the world if she had the money, and savor every second of it with a glass half full of wine in her hand and a carefree smile on her face. She'd spend random amounts of money on the local tourists who would show her the secret wonders of each place she went to get the full experience. Me? I'd be counting every penny I spent, hoarding it away without doing much, and making sure I had enough to get back home on.

This was why we were friends. We were opposites.

"You would feel that way about it," I sneered.

"Don't judge." She smiled, knowing I was only teasing. "Have you heard Paige's bad news?"

I shook my head. Paige had gotten bad news? Why was I just now hearing about it? "No." I tore a small bite of my bagel off and forced it into my mouth.

"You know she had that meeting with her dad, right?" I nodded and waited for her to continue. I'd completely forgotten all about that. I hadn't even asked her how it had gone. I was a horrible best friend. "Her dad said that if she doesn't slow down on the spending and get control over her addiction to shopping, he's going to cut her off."

My heart lurched to my throat. Most people would think that was an easy fix. They'd stop shopping in a second. Paige was different. She harbored problems, secrets, only I knew about... Her shopping was an addiction. It was a way she made herself feel good. It numbed the pain from her life and the things she bought made her feel loved, beautiful, and worthy. She was a very materialistic person, but not the way that everyone associated the word with. Shopping filled a void from her childhood she had yet to learn how to fill another way. It wasn't that she cared about having nice things... Shopping was a high for her, a way to release the endorphins in her mind you were supposed to feel when you were loved.

But the reason why my heart was now lodged in my throat was because if Paige couldn't pay her half of the rent and utilities, we'd be on our asses. There was no way I could swing it alone, and especially not with a baby on the way.

## Chapter 30

# Jason

My mind always seemed to be racing. It raced with thoughts of my future, thoughts of Blaire, thoughts of _our baby_. I didn't tell anyone, though. It wasn't anyone's business but mine, and there wasn't a single person who could guide me in the right direction but me.

I knew this without a shadow of a doubt.

Two weeks had passed. During those two weeks I'd sent Blaire numerous messages about wanting to meet up with her—for a meal, for a soda, for whatever just as long as I could talk with her—but she never answered a single attempt. After the first week of her not answering my Facebook messages and me not seeing her at Cross Meadows, I drove over to her apartment. I'd become a freaking stalker and I didn't give a shit. She needed to hear me out. I deserved that much.

Paige had been the one to tell me to leave the first time. She'd said Blaire realized I wasn't ready to deal with something so massive and life changing at the moment. That she herself was handling it hard and that maybe it truly was best if I gave her a little more space to wrap her head around things as well. Paige was so sweet and innocent looking in the face that I had no idea she was pulling my leg and sugarcoating the shit out of the situation to bypass my feelings. Obviously the girl sucked at confrontation, because the next time I went, Lauren answered the door—and sugarcoating was not something that girl knew how to do at all.

Lauren had all but got in my face as she told me I was a sorry sack of shit and asked how I could go out drinking with some tramp the night after Blaire told me she was pregnant with my baby. I'd stood there speechless while my heart raced in my chest, realizing my mistake—along with the entire misunderstanding—but not knowing what to say that would rectify the situation.

My entire world was closing in on me at the speed of light and I felt like there wasn't a damn thing I could do to stop it. The realization I would have to make a pretty huge grand gesture in order to win Blaire over and make her see I truly wanted to be with her zapped through me. There was only one place I could learn how to do something of that nature the right way: a romantic comedy.

As much as I hated to admit it, those movies knew how to tug at the heartstrings and emotions of a woman better than anything I'd encountered in my entire life. I'd witnessed it happen more times than I could count. Every romantic comedy had a formula to it—the couple meets, they fall in love, something horrible happens that tears them apart, and then the guy generally does some amazing grand gesture to win the girl back. It's not a science, it's a formula.

And it was that formula that I'd unsuspectedly found myself in.

After watching countless movies, searching for my answer, I'd finally come to the conclusion that I'd wasted an incredible amount of time with that idea. The solution to getting Blaire to want to spend time with me was plain and simple. I needed to be there for her.

The third week of not talking with her flew by as I closed out my life in Tennessee and moved back home to Coldcreek. It was a decision that hit me square in the gut while I'd lain awake one night, wondering what the hell I was going to do. Moving home made sense—I'd transfer my classes to Norhurst in the fall and find a decent part-time job as soon as possible. Hopefully Gramps' house would sell soon and I could use my cut to get a place of my own—a place for Blaire, me, and the baby.

Blaire didn't need some grand gesture, she needed me—my support, my love, and my devotion—throughout this entire process. From my memory of when she'd first told me the news, I knew that was all she'd wanted from the beginning anyway.

The newspaper on the coffee table looked crumpled and shredded in places where I'd circled and X-ed shit out too hard. I'd been struggling to find a job for the last three days. The new paper was set to come out this morning, but I wasn't sure I wanted to put myself through this craziness again. It wasn't like there was an endless supply of jobs in Coldcreek waiting to be filled. In fact, there were only about a handful, and of those listed in the employment section more than half of them were outside of town. I was okay with driving to work outside of town, if the job paid decent. So far, none had. I could make more money being a lifeguard at the local pool during the week than I could as a bag boy at a grocery store in the next town.

Tossing the pen I'd been using across the room, I ran my fingers through my hair and let out the frustrated breath that had been building in my chest for some time now. Maybe Matt was right, maybe I should take the lifeguard job at his parents' newly renovated pool and call it good. His list of pros slashed through my mind once more, said in his cocky tone: "You don't have to do shit besides blow your whistle when you see some kid running. You get to listen to music—which might not be the best, but it's still music—all day while getting a killer tan and staring at the hot bodies of all the jailbait and MILFs behind the cover of sunglasses. It's epic."

All that sounded great, but it wouldn't be the type of job Blaire would want me to have...especially for the last reason. It wouldn't help my case any, not after she'd seen the pictures Marla had posted up on Facebook. Damn, I really needed to explain to Blaire nothing had happened that night. Too much time had passed though. I pressed my palms into my eyes as hard as I could.

Fuck it, a job at the pool was better than no job at all. I could work there until I found something else, something better.

Scooping my cell off the table, I hit Matt's name and propped my feet up. He didn't answer. It was eight o'clock on a Monday morning—I should have known. The pool didn't open until twelve; there was no reason for him to be awake yet. When his voicemail came on, I left him a message, telling him I was interested in the job if it was still available.

I prayed that it was.

Hopping in the shower, because I knew Matt wouldn't be calling me back anytime soon, I decided I'd head over to spend some time with Gramps. He was doing a little better this week, but not much. I liked to think it was because I'd come back and was visiting with him nearly every day instead of just Mom. Maybe it was good for him to see another familiar face. I couldn't be sure, but it was nice to think of it that way; it made me feel as though my presence here was needed and I was rectifying the hole in this family I'd helped deepen in the past.

After my shower was finished, I tugged on my boots, slid my cell in my pocket, and headed out the door. My heart pitter-pattered in my chest a little faster than it should. My mouth became dry and I rubbed the back of my neck as I climbed in my Jeep. Every time I went to visit Gramps at Cross Meadows there was always a chance I'd run into Blaire—that slight chance made my heart pound the entire ride there and not let up until I was turning out of the parking lot and headed back home. This time was no better.

When I pulled into the parking lot, it was nearly ten o'clock. Gramps would be finished with his breakfast and most likely his bath too. Chances were he'd be sitting in the game room on the couch, looking disoriented and vacant like always. It broke my heart to see him that way.

When I found Gramps, he was exactly where I thought he would be, but he wasn't alone. A dark-haired girl sat with him. I couldn't see her face, but I knew who she was without needing to—it was Blaire. My feet faltered and my heart lurched up to my throat. I stared at her for what felt like forever, debating on what I should do. Everything I'd thought to tell her—all the things I'd rehearsed in my head a million times—vanished at the sight of her.

Tapping my fingers against my thigh, I made my way over to the two of them. She was here. I was here. It was time to say what needed to be said.

"And here I thought it was seeing my face that had my Gramps doing so much better these days," I said. I walked around to the other side of the couch and plastered a small smile on my face, hoping to hide the nerves I felt chewing at my insides. "But from the looks of it, it could have been seeing yours. Thank you."

Blaire's eyes shifted to lock with mine and all the air in my lungs left at once. She was gorgeous. I'd always heard of pregnant women looking radiant and glowing, but I'd never truly looked long enough to see what people meant when they said it. Today I understood.

Blaire was stunning. Her eyes glimmered under the florescent lights and her cheeks had a pink tint to them that made her look healthy and happy all at the same time.

"I haven't done anything that I don't do for the others," she insisted. Her eyes dropped to the shag rug beneath her white Sketchers, and she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "What are you doing here so early?"

I took a seat in the recliner beside her. "I have to meet up with someone later, so I figured I'd get my daily visit in a little earlier." I realized my mistake of an answer seconds after the words left my lips.

Blaire shifted in her seat. "You have to meet up with someone later, huh?" Her words were cold and sharp. She'd gotten the wrong impression and I kicked myself mentally, because I'd left it wide open for her to do so.

"I'm supposed to be talking with someone about accepting a job offer here in Coldcreek."

Her eyes snapped to mine then and I smiled, because I knew it had been the right thing to say. That was the opener I'd been searching for. Who cared if the job was as a lifeguard? I wasn't planning on divulging that bit of information to her. She wouldn't know where I worked until I had a better, more respectable job to boast about.

"A job offer? Here, in Coldcreek? What about Tennessee?" she asked. The surprise was clear in her voice and it made my small smile grow.

"Tennessee was all right, but I'm needed here."

Her expression reined in and her posture straightened. "Needed here by who?"

The words came as a slap to the face. Shit, I'd backed myself in a corner. I couldn't say by her, because that would piss her off even more. Then she'd throw it in my face that she damn sure didn't need me. "My mom is going through some things and I really need to be here for her this time. I walked away in the past, twice, and left her to deal with a lot of tough things on her own. I can't do that to her this time. I need to be here. If not for my mom or for Gramps, then I need to be here for myself too—to know that I can make it through the death of a loved one without walking away. It's sort of like closure for me, a way to move forward," I said. It wasn't the best I could say, but it was the truth. Plus, it was something soft and emotion packed that would tug at her heartstrings. That was the only way to get to her right now. Although I did hate saying all that in front of Gramps, because he was the loved one I was talking about. "Plus, I need to be here for you...if you'll let me."

As soon as those last few words tumbled from my mouth, the room instantly became too hot and my heart started to pound too fast. I risked a glance at Blaire—eye contact was key in a moment like this; it forced the person to believe the things you were saying. My heart sank. I couldn't read her expression.

"What do you mean you need to be here for me?" she asked. Her words were barely above a whisper.

"Exactly what I said, I want to be here for you, for this baby. Will you consider giving me that opportunity?" I asked. It was hard to keep the begging tone that desperately wanted to coat my words away. "I know I messed up the night you told me you were pregnant, but please give me another shot. I want to do this right."

Her face scrunched up and I swore, if looks could kill I'd be dead right now. The sudden shift in her demeanor had me replaying everything I'd just said, wondering what had set her off.

"If you wanted to do this right, then you wouldn't have been all over Marla Danes the last freaking month!" she snapped. She shot up from where she'd been sitting and pressed her fingertips to her temples. "I've seen all the slutty pictures of the two of you together on Facebook. Some of them happened to be posted on the night after I told you! Who the hell do you think you're kidding here? Not me. I'll tell you that."

My mouth slacked. Did she still think Marla and I were an item? "Marla posted those up herself. I didn't even want her to take them," I said, hoping to salvage the moment we'd just had. I'd been getting somewhere with her, damn it!

"So there would be no proof, right?" she scoffed.

"What?" I bolted from the recliner and met her stare dead-on. "No! It was nothing like that. I haven't slept with her since high school. She's Matt's girl, not mine."

"Matt's girl?" she asked. "Then why was she all over you?"

"Because that's just Marla, that's the way she's always been," I insisted. "And as for the last set of pictures—she was trying to get with me, but I wasn't having it. _She_ put my hands on her ass. She kissed _me_. I ended up leaving right after that... I even called my fucking mom like some _loser_ to take me home, because I didn't want to be there anymore."

"You turned her down?" Her voice shook as she spoke and there was a dumbfounded expression sliding across her face. "Why?"

I erased the short distance between us and gently gripped her arms. Rubbing her bare skin with my thumbs, I looked her in the eyes to further prove the point I was about to make. "Because, all I want is to be with you. Even before this baby came to be, that was all I wanted. You," I repeated, honestly.

"No. You don't want to be with me, you just think you have to be now," she said. Her eyes filled with unshed tears.

I pulled her delicate frame into me, and wrapped my arms around her. "No. The baby just makes me want to be with you that much more."

Her arms slid around my waist and she buried her head into my chest. "You mean it? You don't think that night was a mistake?"

"Not in the least," I said. Nothing with Blaire could ever be a mistake.

"Oh my God, I'm so glad you feel that way." She exhaled loudly and I smiled wide, grateful I'd given her a sense of relief.

"So, what time do you get off today? Do you wanna grab a bite to eat?" I asked.

"Actually, I get off at two and I have an appointment at three," she said.

My heart kick-started. "Appointment? For what?"

"It's my first appointment with the doctor to see how the pregnancy has progressed up till this point. I'll get to find out the due date and stuff." She stepped back and looked me in the eyes. "Do you wanna come?"

I couldn't be a chicken-shit now. This was what me being there for her was all about. I had to do this. I had to. I swallowed hard before answering. "Yeah, absolutely."

## Chapter 31

# Blaire

My mouth could not be any drier. My stomach burned with nerves. I adjusted the seatbelt for the third time since I'd gotten in Jason's Jeep. No matter how it fell across my chest, it bothered me. Once I told Jason the last turn and the doctor's office came into view, I felt as though I was going to vomit all over his floorboard.

"It's cool. We've got this," Jason said. His hand left the gear shift to squeeze my knee.

Glancing at him, I wondered how I'd thought it would be easy to do this all without him. He caught my stare when he turned into the parking lot and flashed me a smile. God, he was gorgeous. If I was going to make a baby with anyone, it would be him. He had perfect genes.

What the hell was I thinking? _If I could make a baby with anyone_?

I'd already made a baby with him and it was about to truly sink in. My throat seemed to close up at the thought. I wrung my hands in my lap as Jason expertly pulled into a parking space close to the door. My conversation with Bonnie replayed in my mind. " _Dr. Kress is great. You'll love her. She's so laid-back and hippy-like."_

"What are you thinking?" Jason asked. He cut the engine and shifted in his seat to face me. His brows were drawn together and there was a look of unease plaguing his blue eyes. "Are you nervous?"

"So nervous I could throw up," I admitted freely.

He let out a loud breath. "I'm not gonna lie, I'm nervous as shit too."

"I can tell. You look as sick as I feel." I laughed. Opening the door, I climbed out and wiped my hands on the shorts I'd changed into at work. "Let's get this over with."

We locked hands and headed inside.

Dr. Kress's office was not hippy-like at all. Walking in and glancing around, I wondered if Bonnie had confused her doctors at some point. This place was too modern and chic to be considered hippy. The Berber carpet was a light cream color and the walls were painted a soothing aloe. White wainscoting lined the walls and dark espresso furniture adorned the place. White flowers of different variations in narrow, marbleized vases sat on all the tables.

"Find us a seat. I'll sign in," I said, motioning for Jason to sit.

"All right."

I walked to the sliding window, where a lady with blonde hair dressed in a pastel pink set of scrubs sat, typing at the computer. Picking up the pen with a large white daisy super-glued to the top, I signed my name on the clipboard sheet. The sliding Plexiglas separator opened and the lady smiled at me.

"Name?" she asked in a Southern voice.

"Blaire Hayes," I said. My heart pounded in my chest so hard it hurt.

"Have you ever been here before, honey?"

I shook my head. "No."

"All right." She nodded. "I'll need you to fill out a few forms for me and then Dr. Kress will be right with you."

"Okay, thanks," I said. My lips felt too loose, like they weren't connected to my face. I had never been this nervous about anything in my life.

"Here you go." She handed me a clipboard and the pen I'd just put back in the holder. "Fill these out and then turn them in to your nurse."

Taking everything from her, I carried it to where Jason sat. I slid into the seat beside him and glanced over the papers, then began to fill them out.

"Do you have insurance?" Jason asked randomly.

"Yeah, through work."

"Will it pay for all of this?"

"Some, if not all. I think," I said. "That's something I'll have to figure out."

His face fell. "I can see what I can do. I mean, I can pay all or a portion, whatever you need."

"Let's worry about that later, okay? I just want to make it through this visit first."

"Sounds good." He picked up one of the many magazines fanned out on the coffee table in front of us. It had a happy baby on the cover, making it seem so out of place in his hands.

After filling out all the paperwork the receptionist had given me, Jason and I waited for another twenty minutes or so before we were finally called back by a nurse with a head full of dark curly hair.

"I'm sorry you had to wait so long, Dr. Kress was called away for an emergency C-section about an hour ago. She should be back any minute now," the nurse informed us.

My jaw slacked at how normal she sounded in saying something that seemed extraordinarily scary to me. A C-section was serious business, wasn't it? Add in the label "emergency" and you had a serious issue.

"First I'll need you to step up on the scale so I can weigh you," the nurse directed.

I stepped onto it and realized I'd actually lost a few pounds since the last time I'd been weighed.

"Have you had any morning sickness?" the nurse asked.

I nodded. "Yes, that's actually how I realized I should probably take a test. At first I thought I was coming down with something, but after of few days of throwing up at strange times, everything sort of clicked into place."

"Funny how that happens, isn't it?" The nurse laughed. It was a full laugh, one that was infectious enough to make me join in. "Is this your first pregnancy?"

"Yes," I answered, feeling as though she'd just hit me in the chest. Why would she think I'd been pregnant before? Did I look like someone who was getting knocked up every few months?

"I wasn't being cruel or implying anything, sweetheart. It's just standard protocol. You're going to answer a lot of questions today that might seem strange and personal." She smiled.

After having my blood pressure checked, peeing in a cup, giving a vile of blood, answering some standard health questions about myself and Jason, and answering a lengthy list of questions regarding both our families' medical histories, Dr. Kress walked in. My sister had been right on when she'd described her as a hippy. She was dressed in a pair of flowing green gaucho pants, a white tunic top that was embroidered with crazy designs, and a pair of tree-hugger sandals.

"Hey, I'm Dr. Kress." She walked across the small room, shook both our hands, and then took the papers from my nurse, Kristen. "So, this is your first pregnancy and you've had some mild to moderate morning sickness."

I nodded. "Yeah."

"Okay, so let's talk about a few things," Dr. Kress said. She wheeled a little stool over to sit closer to me and smiled. It reached up and crinkled around her hazel-colored eyes, instantly making me like her. Comfort rolled from this woman and straight into me. I was glad Bonnie had recommended her.

I was given a lecture about the importance of prenatal vitamins and things I should avoid while pregnant, like caffeine and alternative sweeteners. Then I was told to strip down and cover myself with a cloth hospital gown, open section to the front, and given a paper cover for my bottom half before Jason and I were left alone in the room.

"You can wait out in the lobby if you want, or even in your Jeep. You don't have to be in here for this part," I said. Heat crept up my neck. "This is the part where they do a pelvic exam."

Jason met my stare. "No. I'm fine, unless you want me to leave. Do you? I mean, I'm fine with whatever you're fine with."

"You can stay," I said.

I swallowed hard and then began to strip down. My face and neck felt impossibly hot now. Jason moved from the corner of my eye and I glanced at him to make sure he wasn't staring at me as I slipped my bra off. His head was cocked to the side, as though the illustrated poster on back of the door of a woman's reproductive system was the most interesting thing he'd seen in a while. I fought the urge to laugh at him.

After covering myself with what little they'd given me, I folded all my clothes and handed them to Jason. "Could you set these in the chair beside you, please?" I asked.

He coughed into his hand and then took them. "Sure."

We waited for Dr. Kress to come back in silence. When she finally did, I underwent the entire process of humiliation I'd expected with Jason watching. I cast quick glances at him every now and then, taking in the horrified look that remained on his face throughout the entire spectacle of my exam.

After Dr. Kress rolled her stool away from me and told me I was allowed to pull my legs from the stirrups and sit up, all the tension from my muscles released. I wrapped my open hospital gown over myself tighter and made sure the thin paper in my lap covered everything else.

"Okay, now I'd like to do an ultrasound. This way I can verify your due date and check for the baby's heartbeat. Normally I would use what's called a Doppler, which is a device that uses high-frequency sound waves to allow us to listen to the baby's heartbeat, but because I'm guessing you're around six to seven weeks along, I don't think we would be able to hear anything. Usually it can't detect a heartbeat before ten to twelve weeks, and I don't want to alarm you two by us not being able to hear it with that machine," Dr. Kress said. "Lie back, please. I'm going to rub some cold goop on you, and then we'll be able to see your little peanut on the screen."

After being rubbed down with the goop and feeling Dr. Kress press the little machine to my stomach with a slight amount of pressure, I focused my eyes on the screen, waiting. Jason moved to stand beside me so he had a good view of the monitor. I glanced at him. His jaw was tense and tight, his face pale; he looked like everything was sinking in finally for him, in a big way.

"And there you are," Dr. Kress said. I snapped my eyes from Jason to the monitor, but couldn't see much of anything. "There's your little peanut." She pointed to the screen.

I followed her finger and noticed something in the shape of a kidney bean. A fluttering sound filled the room and Dr. Kress reached for the volume, turning up the noise.

"And there's the heartbeat," she said.

My breath left my lungs. My hand flung to my chest as the heat of love radiated through my core. That was my baby's heartbeat.

Our baby.

"Wow," Jason said. His eyes glimmered with happiness as they shifted to meet mine. "That's our baby's heart we're hearing."

I smiled at him, so glad he was here for this moment with me. Jason took my hand into his and grinned like a kid in a candy store.

"I know," I said. "That's our little peanut."

My eyes shifted back to the screen. Dr. Kress zoomed in and measured areas of our baby. She clicked and double clicked while typing and muttering to herself aloud.

"So, everything looks good," Dr. Kress said. "And it looks like we were right on target. You're about six weeks, which means your due date is around February sixteenth."

February sixteenth. The date seemed so far away, yet so close at the same time.

## Chapter 32

# Jason

"I'm gonna have a bacon cheeseburger and fries," I said to Blaire. After we'd left her appointment we went to grab something to eat. It was only quarter till five, but I was starved. "What do you want? Get anything, I'm buying."

She glared at the menu like it was written in some foreign language. "I don't know, nothing really sounds good to me right now."

"What do you mean? They have loads of great options here," I insisted. Mutton's was one of the best places to eat in Coldcreek, she couldn't be serious. "There's burgers, hot dogs, steaks, pulled pork...take your pick. It's all good."

"Yeah," she said. A look of total disgust crossed her face and for a split second I wondered if she was about to be sick right here at the table. "I'm just not into eating loads of meat right now. Mutton's might have been a bad idea."

"Oh." I glanced at the menu again. Shit, I really wanted a burger. "Well, if you want, we can go somewhere else."

She placed her fingertips to her lips and drew her eyebrows together, like she was trying hard to find something, anything, on the menu that sounded good so we wouldn't have to leave. She was so cute when she was concentrating hard. I cracked a smile.

"Find anything?" I asked.

"Umm...I think I might try the grilled chicken salad. Chicken might not be too bad," she said. She laid the laminated menu down and propped her elbows up on the table to stare at me. "What's so funny?"

"You, you're cute when you concentrate like that."

Her cheeks turned a slight pink color and she went to move her hands into her lap, only her elbow was stuck to the red-and-white plaid tablecloth by the juicy remnants of someone else's meal. There was a loud sticky sound as she pulled her elbow free. I laughed out loud, not only at the situation, but at the look on her face. Her lip curled as she attempted to rub the sticky mess off her skin with her hand. I reached for a wet-nap from within a silver bucket tucked against the wall I was sure was intended for use with Mutton's BBQ ribs. I'd had them before, a few times; they left your hands a sticky mess.

"Here." I opened the little packet and folded out the wet-nap for her while trying to contain my laughter.

"Thanks," she muttered. The look of disgust was still present on her face and I was sure this would be the one and only time we would eat here together after this. "I can't believe I stuck my damn elbow in barbecue sauce."

"It happens to the best of us," I said as I watched her clean it off the table cover.

Our waitress came with our drink orders, finally. She placed them in front of us, oblivious to Blaire wiping off the table, and asked if we were ready to order yet while rolling her eyes as she spoke. I hated habitual eye rollers. If I had to name one single pet peeve, that would be it.

"I'll have the grilled chicken salad with ranch dressing, please," Blaire said.

Ruth, our waitress, scribbled on her pad of paper and then shifted her eyes to me. "And for you?"

"I'll take the bacon cheeseburger with fries." I picked up Blaire's menu and placed mine on top, before handing them both to our eye-rolling waitress.

"It'll be right out," Ruth said. She snatched the menus from my hand and walked away. Obviously she wasn't one to kiss ass for a tip.

"So," I said. "You don't eat a lot of meat or is this just a pregnancy thing?"

"Just a pregnancy thing, I guess. All I've wanted lately is vegetables, fruit, and bread."

I leaned my elbows against the tabletop and held her stare. "Well, you'll have to eat more than that stuff if you want to make my baby healthy."

She flinched at my words. "Your baby, huh?"

"It is mine." I smirked. "And I can't believe it. I'm a dad. Hearing that peanut's heartbeat today was somethin' else."

Blaire smiled and bit at her bottom lip. "I know. It made it all seem so much more real, you know?"

I nodded. "I'm so sorry I reacted the way I did, Blaire. I really am."

"I know. It's fine." She shrugged. "I sort of dropped a huge bomb on you over dinner that night."

"Even so, I should have never let such dickhead things slip from my mouth."

"It's okay, Jason, I get it." She flashed me a sweet little grin and my heart swelled in my chest.

How could she be so understanding? She had to have been petrified thinking some asshole had knocked her up and she was going to have to raise this kid all on her own. I never wanted her to think that way again.

"Marry me," I said. The words had barely filtered through my mind before I'd said them aloud.

Blaire choked on her lemon water. "What?" she coughed.

"You heard me, marry me. Let's do this how it's supposed to be done," I insisted.

"You don't want to marry me." She smiled. Her face shifted through too many shades of red to count, making me realize how incredibly beautiful she actually was.

"I do," I said. I'd never been surer of anything in my entire life. "I want you to know that I plan to always be there for you and this baby of ours. I don't want you to ever doubt for a second I won't be. If you marry me, then you'll know. You'll always know."

Her eyes were nearly popping out of her head. She inhaled sharply, and then let the breath flow from her slowly. "We can't get married, Jason."

"Why not?" My heart sank.

"Because, we aren't even in a real relationship. I mean, would we really be sitting here, eating together, if I weren't pregnant right now?" she asked.

"Yeah. Of course."

"How can you be so sure?" she asked. She shook her head. "I'm not. I honestly don't know if we would be. I probably would have continued to ignore you, because of those pictures with Marla. You would have forgotten about me and we both would have moved on."

She was serious. There was not one single word she'd just said that she didn't mean. What she'd spoken was the honest truth to her.

Maybe she was right.

"But we are, right now we're together. Right now, you're pregnant with my child. If you don't want to get married right away then fine, we won't, but please realize that right here with you and that kid is exactly where I want to be."

Her eyes came up to lock with mine. I didn't smile or look away, I didn't flash her a charming grin, or say another word... I simply held her stare.

"Fine. Thank you," she said. "Let's just focus on us and trying to build something between us more than what we have right now before this baby comes into the world."

"Sounds good to me." I grinned. "But, I still do intend to marry you someday, just so you know." I winked. Blaire's cheeks flushed pink again and I chuckled at the effect my words had on her.

"We shall see, Mr. Bryant," she said, twirling the straw in her water.

"By the way, now that we have our first picture of our child we really need to set up a time for me to meet your family and vice-versa," I said. Her smile fell. "I know, I'm not too thrilled about the idea either, but you have to admit, it does need to be done."

"Yeah, about that," she muttered. "My sister is not going to be a big fan of yours, just so you know."

"And why is that?" I asked. My lips twisted into a smirk and I lowered myself onto my elbows a little more. "Did you tell her I was an asshole?"

Her face blanched. "Possibly. Only I may have used the term _asshat_ instead, during a few of our phone conversations."

"Sounds like I have my work cut out for me then." My smirk grew into a full-fledged grin.

## Chapter 33

# Blaire

After dinner, Jason drove me back to my place. The entire ride home all I could think about was that he'd asked me to marry him and he'd been one-hundred percent serious. The old-fashioned idea of marrying someone because they were pregnant with your child did not seem appealing to me. In fact, it seemed as though it would be the perfect thing to throw in one another's face for years to come in the heat of an argument. My shoulders relaxed as I thought about how I'd dodged a bullet by saying no.

This relationship needed to progress naturally. We needed to get to know one another as a couple before we jumped into something as serious as marriage. And then it hit me, we were already as serious as could be...we were having a baby together.

"Do you mind if I come in and hang out for a while?" Jason asked. He pulled into the parking space beside my car and cut the engine to his Jeep.

I shook my head. "No, that's fine."

I led him to the front door and used my key to let us in. The apartment smelled like nail polish remover when we stepped inside. All the lights were off and there was no music playing; Paige must not be home. I had forgotten to search for her car in the parking lot before I'd invited Jason in.

"Where's your roommate?" he asked. "Smells like she was just in here, removing nail polish."

"I don't know where she is. Paige is not someone that's easy to keep tabs on." I crinkled my nose. "Get used to the smell. She changes her nail polish nearly every day."

Flicking a few lights on, I went to the coffee table and scooped up the paper towels drenched in nail polish remover. Grabbing the bottle off the table, I twisted the cap, making sure it was on tightly before making my way to the trash.

"Have a seat," I said, gesturing to the couch. "Do you want anything to drink?"

God, this was awkward. I hated awkward moments.

"Thanks, I'm fine though." Jason flopped down on the couch and glanced around.

I tossed the paper towels in the trash. "So, do you want to watch a movie or something?"

"Sure, what do you have?"

"The limited selection is in the cabinets on the TV stand. You can pick one out," I said, thinking tonight would go so much better if I wasn't pregnant and could drink alcohol.

Jason got up and walked over to the TV. He squatted down in front of it and began searching through our selection of movies. The selection wasn't large by any means, as neither Paige nor I were movie buffs. There were a few comedies and some chick-flicks tossed in together. I grabbed myself a bottle of water from in the fridge and a smirk twisted my lips as I tried to decide which movie he would pick. It was a tossup between _Friends with Benefits_ or _40 Days and 40 Nights_ , because there was no doubt in my mind that he would pick one with something to do with sex in the title.

My jaw dropped when he said _Friends with Benefits_.

"Are you serious?" I narrowed my eyes at him as I walked to the couch. "That was one of the movies I thought you'd pick."

He shifted to look directly at me. "Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"That's awesome," he said. "But wait, why did you think I'd pick that one out of all of them?"

I watched him as he bent back down to put the DVD in the player. "Because it had a reference to sex in the title," I admitted.

He laughed. It was rich and loud, filling my apartment and making me laugh as well. "How perceptive of you."

" _40 Days and 40 Nights_ was my second choice." I sat on the couch, tucking one leg beneath me. "I knew you wouldn't pick _Marley & Me_ or _Mean Girls_ , although _Coyote Ugly_ was a close third." I winked.

He moved to sit on the couch beside me. His hand landed on my knee closest to him and he began to rub his thumb across my bare skin there. " _Coyote Ugly_ was a very close call, I must admit."

"As much as you enjoy bars and girls dressed trashy hanging all over you, I can see why," I said, unable to believe the words had come from my mouth. Why the hell had I said that?

Jason pursed his lips together. "Okay, I guess I deserve that one."

The previews started and I jumped, the TV was so loud I wondered how we weren't deaf. I reached for the remote and quickly turned it down while laughing.

"I'm sorry," I said, but I wasn't apologizing for just the volume of the TV. "I didn't mean to say that."

"No, it's fine. Really." He squeezed my knee and grinned. "It was bound to be said at some point. Besides, I should go ahead and grow some pretty thick skin right now, because I'm sure you'll be saying all kinds of harsh shit at random from here on out, right?"

I laughed, glad he wasn't pissed. "Right."

We settled in beside each other and shifted our glares to the TV.

Not even five minutes after the movie had ended and Jason and I were making out on the couch, Paige came storming into the house rattling off about Craig and how he was such an ass. When she realized Jason was here, she shut right up.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" Her hand flung to her chest. "I had no idea you had company."

"It's fine," I said. My face felt flushed and my hair a mess. "I should have sent you a text letting you know."

"No, you didn't have to do that. I'll set my stuff down and go straight to my room." She tossed her purse onto the kitchen counter and kicked off her heeled boots at the door. "You won't even know I'm here. Promise."

"No. It's cool," Jason said, standing. "I was just getting ready to leave, actually."

"I'll walk you to your Jeep," I offered. I hated to see him go, but I could see the questions boiling to the rim in Paige's eyes. She wanted to know why the hell he was here and when we had made up.

Walking Jason out was awkward. It was starting to sprinkle and the night sky looked eerie lit by the full moon. There was a slight breeze, and the sound of crickets in the distance met with my ears.

"So," I rocked on my heels. "When will I get to see you again?"

"Tomorrow, for sure," he said without hesitation.

"Oh really?"

"For sure." He smiled. He leaned in close to me. "Get used to this face, because you're going to be seeing it for a long time from here on out."

I grinned like a schoolgirl. "I could get used to that."

"Good."

"Let me see your phone," I insisted, holding my hand out. Jason didn't question why, but instead handed me his phone. I added my number to his contacts and then called it, so I'd have his as well. "There, now we don't have to use Facebook anymore."

"Facebook was fun." He grinned.

"True, but talking can be even more fun." I winked and turned to head back inside before the rain picked up any more.

"I think I like the sound of that," he yelled after me.

I glanced over my shoulder at him as I continued toward my apartment. "Good," I yelled in reply.

As soon as I stepped foot inside, Paige was pelting me with questions in rapid succession. I tuned her out and leaned against the closed door for support. Letting out a massive sigh, I thought to myself that maybe this thing between Jason and me would work out after all. Hope blossomed in my chest as I crossed the apartment to sit on the couch, ready to answer all of Paige's questions.

## Chapter 34

# Jason

When I got home Mom was still up. She sat on the couch with a glass of red wine in one hand and the remote in the other. The house smelled of burnt plastic.

"Hey, what did you burn in the kitchen tonight?" I asked as I moved to sit beside her.

She chuckled and paused her movie. "Nothing, it was a frozen meal. I wasn't sure when you were coming home tonight, so I didn't attempt to cook for both of us."

Thank goodness for small favors.

"Yeah, I was out with Blaire. We stopped at Mutton's for something earlier." I headed to the fridge and grabbed one of the beers I'd bought the other night. Popping the top, I headed back toward the couch. "I need to tell you something."

My throat constricted as soon as the words came out. I wanted to tell her about the little peanut Blaire and I had created together, to tell her she was going to be a grandma, but the words were gonna be harder to say than I'd thought.

"Oh?" she asked, taking a sip of her wine. She seemed so relaxed, so content. Maybe now would be a good time to spill the beans. "And what's that?"

"Well." I took a sip of my beer and then turned to look directly at her. I thought about pulling the ultrasound picture Dr. Kress had given me out and tossing it in her lap, but thought better of it. My mom would slap me silly for telling her that way for sure. I bit my bottom lip and stared at her. "I have some news."

She sat up straighter, sensing my hesitation. "Oh no, what is it?"

I was freaking her out. Not a good thing. "Nothing bad. Umm, so Blaire, you know Blaire, right?" I asked.

"Blaire?" she repeated. Obviously she had no idea who I was talking about.

"Blaire Hayes, I graduated with her."

"Lydia Hayes's daughter?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

Mom took a small sip of her wine. "What about her, honey?"

"She's pregnant...and it's mine." The words spilled from my lips and I wished I'd thought of a more pleasant way to tell her the news. Now I knew how Blaire had felt when she'd told me.

Mom stared at me. She took a big swig of her wine, her eyes unmoving from me. I pulled the ultrasound photo of our little peanut from my back pocket and handed it to her. "Here's your first grandbaby, Mom."

Her fingers shook as she took the black-and-white picture from my hand. Once her eyes locked with the little kidney bean, tears sprang from her eyes. "This is for real?" she asked in a whispered tone. "I'm gonna be a grandma?"

I nodded and smiled at her. "You are. Are you okay with that?"

Her eyes glistened as they shifted to mine. "Wow, I can't believe this! When did this happen?"

The smile on her face made relief slide through me. I felt so alive, bursting with energy. There was no feeling in the world that could top what I felt right now. Mom was happy for me. I was happy for me. All was right within the world in this moment.

"A few weeks ago." I took the picture from her hand and stared at it once more. My lips twisted into a smile. "We found out today that she's about six weeks along."

"Six weeks," she said. "I can't believe this! I'm gonna be a grandma!"

I chuckled. "Yeah, you are."

Her face changed suddenly. Her expression grew serious and her eyebrows drew together in a thin line. "This is why you suddenly decided to stay in Coldcreek, isn't it?"

I shrugged. "Possibly."

It was a lie. I hadn't known Blaire was pregnant when I'd first thought to move here.

"Well, sweetheart, you really need to get your shit together. You can't raise a child off a lifeguard salary or living with your mom either. Does Blaire have her own place?"

"I know." I dropped my gaze to the coffee table. "I've been looking for something else. I really don't want to be working at the pool right now anyway. It's not for me. Not now. And she has an apartment, but she also has a roommate."

Mom placed a hand on my forearm. "Well, sounds like you have a lot to figure out and get under control before that baby comes in a few months. I'll help you in any way that I can, but you know money is tight for me right now too. I'm sorry, sweetheart."

My happy bubble popped from her sharp dose of reality. "I wasn't asking for money and I know what I need to do." I raised my eyes to meet with hers. "I'll figure it out."

"I know you will," she said. She rubbed my forearm a few quick times and removed her hand. "Let me see my grandbaby one more time."

I grinned and handed the picture to her. Then I proceeded to point out all the areas Dr. Kress had. "That's where the head is."

"Honey," she muttered. "I know. I've looked at one of these before, you know."

"I know. I'm just excited is all."

"Well, when do I get to meet her?"

I scrunched my eyebrows together. "Who?" I'd honestly thought she'd been able to see something in the picture I hadn't.

"Blaire," she said, looking at me like I was a blubbering idiot. "We should set something up for one night this week. Let's do a dinner or something."

"Umm, I'll have to ask her when the next time she's off is."

Nerves set in. I swallowed hard, already feeling the anxiety from the dinner pressing on my shoulders and constricting my throat.

## Chapter 35

# Blaire

The week flew by at breakneck speed. I knew it was only because I was so nervous about having dinner with Jason and his mother on Sunday. I was sure Mrs. Bryant was nice, it was just the entire situation and the way things had happened that made me nervous. Telling Bonnie had been hard enough, but telling Jason's mom seemed as though it would be even harder, simply because there was that fear eating at my insides that she would think I wasn't good enough for her son, that she would assume I was some slut who had somehow taken advantage of her precious baby boy.

Maybe I'd seen too many reality TV shows lately. There was no reason for Jason's mother to not like me.

"How do I look?" I asked Paige. She was lying across my bed, flipping through some beauty magazine, when I came out of my bathroom. "Is it too much? Do I look like I'm trying too hard?"

Paige glanced up from the glossy pages of her magazine and did a once-over on me. "No, you look super cute!"

"Really?" I was shocked. It was rare that I ever coordinated an outfit to Paige's liking.

"Yeah, the only thing I would do is change out your earrings." She hopped off my bed and walked to the jewelry box on my dresser. "Put in these ones, they'll look more fun and happy."

She handed me my newest pair of chandelier earrings and I popped them into place. "Better?"

"Much."

Glancing at myself in the mirror above my dresser, I smoothed my hands over the deep blue cotton T-shirt I wore and let out a breath. My stomach wasn't poking out much yet, but it did have a slightly noticeable bump to me. Placing my hand over my little pooch tenderly, I pulled another deep, calming breath into my lungs.

"What time is Jason supposed to pick you up?" Paige asked.

I ran my fingers through my hair and dragged my fingertips under my eyes to erase any smudges of eyeliner there. "Around six."

My stomach knotted as I glanced at my phone; he'd be here any minute now.

"Take another deep breath," Paige insisted. Her hand came up to rub my back and she smiled at me through the mirror. "It's going to be okay, his mom will love you!"

"Thanks."

A knock sounded at the front door and Paige left the room to go answer it. I started down the hall after her, ready to grab my purse off the kitchen counter and get this dinner over with. Jason stood in the door when Paige opened it, looking calm and collected. I smiled at him and felt some of my anxiety roll off me at the sight of him. He was dressed in a pair of khaki shorts and a simple white-and-tan striped polo shirt. He looked nice, but not too nice, making me feel as though I'd dressed along the same level. This relaxed me even more.

"You ready?" he asked.

"Yeah." I tucked my purse underneath my arm and waved goodbye to Paige on my way out the door.

"See you later!" she shouted after me.

Jason threaded his fingers through mine as we walked down the sidewalk to his Jeep. After an entire week of us hanging out and getting to know one another, the sensation of his large, warm hand in mine still gave me a fuzzy feeling in my stomach. A warm breeze blew across my skin and I inhaled deeply.

"You nervous?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"Don't be, my mom was happy about the whole thing, remember? Everything will be fine. She isn't even cooking; she ordered out, so you don't have to pretend to like her horrible cooking." Jason smirked.

I slapped his chest with my free hand. "That's a nasty thing to say about your mother, that her cooking is _horrible_. Piss me off and I will so tell her you said that," I teased.

He shrugged a shoulder. "She already knows, why else do you think she would order out for tonight?"

I pursed my lips. "Okay, point proven."

"Seriously though, you have nothing to worry about. Trust me," he said, his voice soft and sweet.

"Thanks, but that's easier said than done. You wait till it's your turn, you'll understand then."

We released each other's hand and parted to climb into his Jeep.

"Yeah, I don't even want to think about that right now," he said. He started the engine and pulled out of the parking space.

I took in another deep breath and felt my stomach begin to roll. If I threw up in his Jeep, or while at his mom's house, I would be mortified.

The house was white with navy blue shutters that matched the color of front door. "This is it," Jason said. He cut the engine and twirled the keys in his hand.

I glanced at the house through his windshield again. "It's nice. I like it."

"Still nervous?"

"Even more so," I admitted.

He put a hand on my thigh and squeezed. His touch was warm and comforting, just like it should be. I smiled at him from under my lashes. There wasn't even an ounce of nervousness etched into his features. He was so sure this entire dinner would go perfectly fine.

"Don't be. Trust me when I say she'll love you." He released my leg and opened his door. "Come on, let's head in and get something to eat. I'm starved."

I nodded and forced myself out of his Jeep. When I walked to the front, Jason reached for my hand and interlaced our fingers. The same comforting warmth seeped through me whenever he initiated a handhold. Jason's mom opened the door for us as soon as my feet touched the first step, and I realized he looked just like her. They shared the same dark hair and bright blue eyes. Her lips twisted into a wide grin that came up to the edges of her eyes, crinkling them a little with her happiness.

"Hey, how are you?" She stepped aside to let us in. "I'm Sharon, you must be Blaire." Her eyes grazed over me and I noticed her smile grow.

"I'm good, thank you. And yes, I'm Blaire," I said. A smile of my own pulled at the corners of my lips. The scent of marinara sauce and garlic met with my nose, making my mouth water. "Smells good."

"Yeah, where did you order from?" Jason asked. He closed the door behind him.

Sharon slapped him playfully on the shoulder and smirked. "You little rat! She might have thought it was home-cooked pizza."

Jason laughed and rubbed his arm. "Nah, I already told her you were ordering out, because you can't cook." A shit-eating grin spread across his face and his mom burst into a fit of laughter.

I chuckled at the two of them and felt the tension release from my shoulders. Jason was right; his mom was amazing and tonight was going to be fine.

"Anyway." She rolled her eyes. "I ordered from Chandler's Pizzeria. I'm not sure what you've been craving lately or what sort of things you've suddenly been turned off by food wise, Blaire, so I went with one supreme, one pepperoni, and an order of Italian cheese bread. Is that all right?"

Jason handed me a paper plate from in a cabinet and winked. "Fine china."

"Easy cleanup, nothing wrong with that," I said to him, before directing my attention back to his mother. "Yeah, that's fine."

Sharon handed me a napkin. "Which kind do you want, sweetie?"

"I'll take a supreme, thanks."

"How has the pregnancy gone so far? Have you been miserably sick?" she asked.

I scrunched up my nose. "Mildly sick, I guess. I'm hoping it will go away soon."

"You should try putting some saltine crackers beside your bed at night and taking a few nibbles of them first thing in the morning before you get up. That's what I did with Jason to help with the nausea," Sharon said. She pulled apart the cheese bread and placed two sticks on her plate.

"That's a good idea. My sister said I should drink some sort of ginger tea," I said. Jason handed a stick of cheese bread out to me and I placed it beside my pizza.

"Oh, so your family knows about the baby?" Sharon asked. She licked some sauce off her finger and I got the impression she was slightly nervous, either that or else she didn't like being the last to know.

"My sister does, but I haven't told my parents yet." I couldn't meet her eyes when I said this.

My cheeks and neck grew warm. It wasn't that I was ashamed to tell my parents; it was just the simple fact that I knew my mother wouldn't handle the news well.

When I talked with Paige a few days ago about it, she'd reminded me that I was an adult and my parents didn't pay my bills, so they should have no say-so in whether I wanted to have a kid. While that was true, it still didn't ease my nerves any.

Memories of when Bonnie had first revealed she was pregnant with Tinley came to mind. Bonnie had been twenty-two—a year younger than me—when she had Tinley. She and Brice had already been married, but Mom still wasn't thrilled about the news. Dad couldn't care either way, but Mom was another story. She'd had both Bonnie and me young and had always wanted the two of us to go to college and travel the world before we decided to settle down. Bonnie had let that dream of hers for us die a little when she'd gotten married and had Tinley so young, and now I was getting ready to kill it off completely.

"Do you think they'll approve?" Sharon asked. There was a softness to her words, as though she already knew the answer without me having to utter a single word.

I followed Sharon to the little square dining table in the corner and sat. Ripping a piece of cheese bread off, I popped it in my mouth and thought of the best way to answer her question. I could feel Jason's eyes on me, waiting for my answer. He already knew he was going to have a hard time getting Bonnie to like him after how he'd reacted when I'd first told him, but now he was about to find out how my parents might react to the news. I swallowed hard before answering.

"I'm not too sure," I said honestly. "My mom has always had these hopes and dreams for my sister and me involving college and traveling the world. She wanted us to explore the things life had to offer she never could, because she had both of us so young. I'm really not sure if she's let go of that dream entirely, even though my sister is married with a little girl now."

"You think she still has those dreams in place for you?" Sharon asked.

"Yeah, somewhat."

"Well, it's your life. She'll just have to get over it, won't she?" Jason took a large bite of his pizza and gripped his glass of water tightly.

"I'm sure everything will be fine; things will work out," Sharon said, obviously taking note of her son's drastic shift in mood. "Who knows, maybe now that she's gotten used to the idea of being a grandma, and spending time with your little niece, things will go smoother than you think when you tell her."

I smiled at Sharon. She was the type of person I needed to be around, so positive and happy. No wonder Jason loved her so much.

"Maybe," I said.

I took a small bite of my pizza and found Jason's knee underneath the table. His eyes lifted to mine and I smiled at him. The tension melted off him and he grinned back.

## Chapter 36

# Jason

"Man, what the hell?" Matt shouted. He'd cornered me in the girls' locker room of the pool. I'd been sweeping up the floor, finishing my cleaning duties for the evening, when he'd walked in and shoved me against the wall. "Why the fuck didn't you tell me working here wasn't good enough for you?"

"What are you talking about?" I asked. I leaned the broom against the wall, because if he pushed me one more time I was going to deck him, friend or not.

"Dad just said you put in your two-weeks' notice."

"And?"

"And, what the fuck did you do that for? You haven't even worked here long enough to reap the benefits of the place fully."

I rolled my eyes. "What benefits? When Sasha Coleman asks you to put more sunblock on her back? I'm not sixteen anymore, man. I've got a kid on the way. You didn't expect me to support my child by working here for forever, did you?"

"Not forever, but damn it, dude, you were only here for a few weeks," Matt said. He folded his arms across his chest and reminded me of a little kid pouting because he wasn't getting his way. "So, where did you get a job at?"

"Haven Software. I'm also interning at the children's home on Woodmont Avenue."

"What?" Matt shouted. "Jesus, dude, you went from fun to strictly grown-up in two seconds flat! I mean, Haven Software? You'll be stuck inside a cubical wearing some constricting button-up dress shirt every damn day."

"You have to grow up sometime," I said. I patted him on the back and went to put the broom in the utility closet.

"Not all of us," I heard him mumble.

Shoving all of the cleaning supplies back in the closet, I grabbed my keys and the T-shirt I'd worn this morning from in the office and clocked out. Dan, Matt's dad, had understood my entire situation. I hadn't even had to mention the fact that I was leaving because I had a kid on the way and wanted something more stable than a summertime job as a lifeguard. Dan had actually said he wished Matt would grow up at some point and realize being a lifeguard in the summer and a full-time college student the remainder of the year wasn't his cup of tea either.

I unsnapped the top on my Jeep and rolled it up. Tucking it underneath the passenger seat, I walked around to the driver side door with my cell in my hand. I sent Blaire a text, letting her know I was headed to my mom's to take a shower before I swung by her place with something for dinner.

**What are you picking up to eat? ~ Blaire**

Climbing in, I put the keys in the ignition and let them dangle while I thought about where I should order from tonight. A brilliant idea came to me then.

**Tell me what you and my peanut are in the mood for.**

I didn't know how she would react to the mention of our little peanut, but I hoped this was the beginning of us getting used to talking about the baby.

**I don't know. All I really want is a salad. ~ Blaire**

**What? No dessert?**

Blaire seemed to have a thing for sweets lately. Any time we went out or ordered in, she always had to have a candy bar or something with chocolate after our meal.

**Oh you know I want something, but I really need to slack off and cut a lot of my sweets out. If not, I'm going to be trying for years to get the extra baby weight off. ~ Blaire**

I sighed. I hated it when she started that weight crap; she was still sexy as hell and barely had a baby bump showing at all. Even when she did, I wouldn't care.

**Anyway...I'll be there in a bit.**

**See you when you get here. ~ Blaire**

I booked it to the house and took a shower as fast as I could. Mom wasn't home yet. Ackerman's was supposed to get a late-night shipment of clothes in and it was time for inventory. She wouldn't be home until late. This was fine, because if she had been here, all she would have done was hold me up by asking questions about how Blaire was feeling and when she would be coming over again for dinner. I was glad they'd hit it off so well. I knew at some point in the near future Mom would ask for Blaire's number and they'd be talking more than me and Blaire.

After I rubbed on some deodorant—the kind Blaire said made me smell sexy—I pulled on a clean T-shirt and slipped on my flip-flops while I scooped up my wallet, phone, and keys off my dresser and headed out the front door. It was only fifteen minutes tops from my mom's house to the grocery store, but I hit every red light there was along the way, making the trip seem ten times longer.

I found a parking space and headed through the heat and into the store. The automatic doors opened and blasted me with cool air from inside the store and I smiled as I grabbed up a little basket. Pausing for a moment to make a mental list, I thought of everything I would need to make Blaire the best salad I could think of.

The plan for the night was to cook together, enjoy a meal that included dessert, and then hopefully move this relationship into the intimate area once more. It had been a few weeks and the doctor had said sex while pregnant was perfectly okay at this stage, so I planned on taking full advantage of it tonight.

Racing through the store, grabbing up the ingredients I'd need to make the night perfect, I remembered something incredibly important—Blaire didn't live alone. She had a roommate.

**Is Paige gonna be there? Should I bring her something too?**

I smiled as I waited in line to pay, proud of myself for coming up with a legitimate reason to ask. By the time I was unloading my basket at the checkout, Blaire finally messaged me back.

**No. She has a date tonight with Craig. ~ Blaire**

I let out the breath I'd been holding and grinned even wider. Everything was falling in place for tonight.

"Are you kidding me?" Blaire asked. She chuckled as I walked into the door holding every bag from the store and bumped into the wall to avoid colliding with her. "What is all of this?"

"Dinner," I said. "Isn't that what I said I'd get on my way over?"

"Well, yeah, but you didn't say you'd be getting it from the store. I honestly thought it would be like the other night and you'd say you couldn't decide so we'd end up going out to eat somewhere instead."

I walked across her apartment and sat everything on the counter. "Are you disappointed?"

"No, not at all," she said. "I would have stayed in my yoga pants if I'd known." A smirk twisted at the corners of her lips and I couldn't help but laugh.

"Go," I shooed her away. "Go change back into your yoga pants then."

"I'm just teasing you."

"No, you're not. You were really in yoga pants, weren't you?" I raised an eyebrow at her.

Her cheeks flushed pink and she cut her eyes to the bags I'd set on the counter. "Well, I was...but I'm fine in this. I'm not going to wear my yoga pants and ratty tank top in front of you."

"Woo, you didn't say you were in a ratty old tank top, too." I pinned her between my body and the counter. "Was it see-through?" Her hands came up to press against my chest. The simple touch made me excited. It had been too damn long. Way too damn long.

"Oh my God, are we really having this conversation right now?" She chuckled. There was a sense of nervousness in her tone. That was the last thing I wanted to make her feel, nervous. I took a step back and she slipped away from me. "Okay, so maybe the tank top is sort of see-through. I'm not changing back into it for you, but I will change out of these shorts and into my yoga pants again."

"I can handle that."

Emptying the grocery bags onto the counter, I checked her out as she disappeared down the hallway to change. I shook my head and crumpled all the bags up and chucked them in the trash. Organizing the ingredients on the counter, I realized I'd forgotten dressing. How the hell were we supposed to eat a salad without any dressing? Fuck. Opening her fridge, I bent down and glanced at the selection Blaire had. Paige and her must live off condiments, because the condiment-to-food ratio was seriously tipped.

"Whatcha lookin' for?" Blaire asked. She smacked my ass, startling me.

"I forgot salad dressing," I admitted with a chuckle. Maybe tonight would go like I wanted, she was already getting frisky.

"There should be plenty of ranch in there," she said. She bent over and slid between me and the fridge door to look. "Here's some Italian."

Taking a step back, I smirked. She had changed into yoga pants. They were black and tight fitting, cutting off at her shins. I couldn't see why she hadn't wanted to change into them before, she looked amazing in them.

"Italian is fine," I said.

"Oh and here's some fancy blue cheese stuff and some Greek dressing Paige likes."

"I'll stick with the Italian."

She came back up holding the dressing in her hand and closed the fridge with her hip. "Me too."

"Have you got a big bowl I can make this salad in?" I asked.

"Sure." She bent down and pulled out a large red bowl from a cabinet. "So, is that what you're making—a salad?"

"Isn't that what you said you wanted?" I grinned.

Opening and closing one drawer after another, I finally found a cutting board and knife. I placed them both on the counter and began chopping up the veggies.

"It is, but you're such a meat-and-potatoes type person I didn't expect you to eat a simple salad for dinner," she said.

"I'll be fine." I motioned to the package of precooked grilled chicken I'd bought for my salad.

"Yuck, you know that stuff probably isn't even real meat, right?" she asked. Her face was scrunched up into a look of pure disgust.

"I'm sure I'll live," I said, smiling at her cute expression. "Do you have any music?"

"Yeah, let me get my speakers for my phone." She started down the hall again and I exhaled, relaxing my shoulders some.

Blaire made me incredibly nervous. We needed tonight—this dinner, this time to be absolutely alone—in order to get past this odd funk I felt like we were in.

## Chapter 37

# Blaire

Once I made it into my bedroom, I headed straight to my nightstand and pulled the speakers out from the top drawer. I took in a deep breath and then exhaled it slowly. Jason was making me so nervous I thought I might get sick. There was some sort of tension pulsating between us. It was as though we'd never kissed before and were both waiting for the right moment to initiate it.

I set the speakers on my bed and rubbed my sweaty palms across my pants to wipe away the sweat that covered them. Maybe Lauren had been right, maybe it was time we hopped in the sack and did the dirty again to get us to where we should be in this relationship, had we not taken that long break in between the creation of our baby. Swallowing hard, I scooped up the speakers and started down the hall toward the kitchen.

"I'll plug these in and then we can listen to Spotify or Slacker Radio, I have both," I said.

Jason paused in cutting up the veggies and shifted to face me. "You listen to Slacker Radio?"

I nodded and connected the speakers to my iPhone. "Yeah, why?"

"Normally chicks listen to Pandora, because it comes on their phone. Slacker is the shit. I love it, so is Spotify."

I grinned at him. "Guess I'm not like most chicks then, huh?"

Tapping to open Slacker, I chose a station I thought he might like—Party Rock. Music filled the apartment, soaking up all the silence and awkwardness that had been festering in the space, and I felt myself relax.

"Can I help you with anything?" I asked. I leaned against the counter and gazed at everything he'd set out. "What's this stuff?" I picked up a glass jar that looked like it held some sort of dip inside. It was creamy and tan.

"Hummus dip,"

"What the heck is that?" I glanced at the side label, which said it was creamy garbanzo bean dip.

"You've never had it before?"

I shook my head. "No."

"It's the best. Spread it on some crackers and your mouth will be in heaven." He winked. "That's our appetizer tonight."

"Hmm, I'll take your word for it and try a bite, but I'm not making any promises I'll like it," I said.

"Oh you will." There was a slight edge of cockiness to his tone that made me smile.

Once Jason finished chopping things up and tossing the salad, he set it in the fridge, claiming it would be best served chilled. He then got to work on spreading some hummus onto a cracker for me.

"Open," he insisted.

I opened my mouth and he slipped a smothered cracker in. The taste was surprising. It had a little kick to it, and the texture was creamy and smooth.

"What do you think?" he asked.

"I don't know." I took another bite and chewed for a moment before swallowing. "It's one of those things that I'm not sure of. It's not horrible, but I need a few more bites to decide if I actually like it."

Jason laughed. "I love this stuff. It was my grandma's favorite. She liked to spread it on whole-wheat crackers like this and sit on her back porch eating it while enjoying the view."

There was sadness in his voice that tore at the edges of my heart. I hated he'd lost someone he obviously had loved so dearly. Then I remembered he'd lost his father right after we'd graduated high school, too. Sadness and loss had touched him and his mother so many times it made me glad I was helping to bring a little happiness into both their lives, even though our baby hadn't been planned and our start had been slightly rocky.

After eating our appetizer and then our awesome salad, Jason moved on to dessert. I watched as he cut a large bowl of strawberries and rinsed them off. He twisted the lid off a container of chocolate hazelnut spread and began to coat each strawberry slice heavily. A little got on his finger and I stared, captivated, as he brought it to his mouth and sucked it off.

"Look good?" he asked. He licked along his bottom lip and held my stare.

"Huh?" I had no clue if he was being arrogant and asking if he looked good licking chocolate hazelnut whatever it was off his finger, or if he was asking if his dessert of choice looked good. So, I played dumb. "Does what look good?"

He raised an eyebrow at me. "The dessert."

"Oh, yeah, it does," I said. Heat crept across my cheeks and down my neck.

Jason slid his finished masterpiece between us with a proud smile. I reached out to grab one and pop it in my mouth, but he stopped me.

"Nope, let me," he insisted.

A shiver went through me from his tone, low and demanding. A slow smile built on his face as he reached out and carefully picked up a strawberry. I licked my lips in anticipation, still feeling the lingering sensation of shivers sliding along my spine. Jason leaned in to me. His scent filled my nostrils at the same time the energy between us zinged to life even more. I sank my teeth into the smothered berry and an explosion of sorts happened across my tongue. The creaminess of the chocolate mixed with the hint of hazelnut along with the sweetness of the strawberry awoke each of my taste buds individually. How had I lived so long without tasting this goodness?

"Good?" Jason asked.

A little moan escaped me and I felt my cheeks heat from it. "Very good," I said quickly.

His finger swiped the corner of my mouth and I froze, praying he wasn't going to be all creepy-gross like some guys were when they licked stuff off their finger after wiping it off the girl's face. Thank goodness that wasn't what Jason did. Instead, he lightly brushed his thumb across the edge of my bottom lip.

My breath caught in my throat as I waited for him to lean in and kiss me. His blue eyes darkened and I heard him exhale softly. This was it. This was the moment when we would kiss and then things would get out of control. One thing would lead to another, and then we'd end up in my bed together, tangled in the sheets. A tiny prick of fear stabbed at my heart. What if sex felt different now that I had a baby growing inside me? Would Jason be able to feel it? Would I?

The darkness washed out of Jason's eyes and his hand dropped to his lap. My heart sank. Why hadn't he kissed me? That was the moment...and he'd let it pass.

"Let's play a game," he said, breaking the thick silence slowly being crafted between us.

"What sort of game?" I asked. I reached out and grabbed another strawberry. Popping it in my mouth, I let the bliss on my tongue distract me from my insecure feelings bubbling to the surface of my mind.

"A question game." He grabbed himself another berry. "Let's play Would You Rather."

I smirked at him. "I haven't played that game in forever. Not since high school."

"So, let's play it now." There was a dare echoing through his words. "I'll ask first. Would you rather go without Internet or a car for a month?"

Picking up another berry, I took a bite and thought for a second before answering. "Internet, easy. I don't think I could handle bumming rides from people for a whole month, I would feel too out of control and like a loser if I had to do that," I said. "Okay, would you rather be blind or deaf?"

He leaned against the counter and cocked his head at me. "Deaf. There's too much I want to see before I die, but loads of shit I wish I didn't have to hear." A smirk twisted his features as though he were proud of his clever answer. I laughed at him. "All right, would you rather eat a stick of butter or snort a tablespoon of salt?"

"What the hell kind of question is that?" I scrunched up my face.

He shrugged his shoulders. "A question. Answer."

"Eat a stick of butter, I guess. Snorting salt seems like it would burn horribly bad." I shifted on my feet and then decided to hoist myself up on the counter to sit. "Would you rather be strong or super fast?"

"Strong. I don't want to be _super fast_ at anything." A shit-eating grin twisted his lips at his sexual innuendo. My stomach clinched at the sight. "Would you rather have sex on the beach at night or have sex in a park in broad daylight?"

A tingle stabbed through my stomach. My face felt entirely too hot all the sudden. "Wow, this game just took a turn," I said.

"You didn't expect it to stay clean for long, did you?" he asked. There was a devious glimmer in his eyes that warmed my lower stomach. "Besides, it was your strong or super fast question that put me on this train of thought. So, what's your answer, Blaire?" He raised an eyebrow at me.

The way my name slid from his lips, the way he was looking at me mixed with his proximity, kicked my libido into overdrive. "Park, during the day," I said.

"You surprised me. Isn't sex on the beach something every girl wants to try at least once?" he asked.

"Not me. Sand is too coarse. I wouldn't want it rubbing against my delicate areas," I said. I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and swallowed hard. If he wanted to amp this game up some, then I had to think of something good, something that would shock him. And then one came to me. "Would you rather have sex with the lights on or lights off?"

He reached out and grabbed a strawberry. I watched him and his unfazed expression as he popped it into his mouth. I'd forgotten the bowl was even there. "Lights on, I like to see what I'm doing right." He winked as he chewed.

Damn it. My question hadn't fazed him at all. It was like he'd been expecting it.

"My turn," he insisted. "Would you rather pay for sex or get paid for sex?"

I bit my bottom lip, thinking of an answer. Wow. What a question, he was good at this. "Paid for sex." I locked eyes with him.

His eyes flashed. "Would you like to elaborate on that further?"

"Nope." I reached for another strawberry. "Would you rather give up masturbation or never receive oral sex ever again?" My face flamed as soon as the words fell from my lips, but if he was going to take this game south then so could I. I bit into my strawberry, praying my face wasn't as red as it felt.

Jason nodded. There was a large grin on his face when I finally risked a glance at him. "Masturbation and pray like hell I never hit a long dry spell," he said plain and simple. "Was that an offer?"

I glared at him. "It was a question. Part of the game."

Jesus, he was getting to me. This game was. My heart was racing. Jason hoisted himself up onto the counter beside me. My eyes zeroed in on the muscles in his forearms as he did so, and I felt that warmth in my stomach spread.

"Would you rather give oral or get oral?" he asked.

"Give," I answered right away. Jason's hand was inches from mine. I could feel the heat emanating off him. The desire to kiss him was nearly overwhelming. I needed to tune this moment down a little or else I was going to jump him right here in my kitchen. "Would you rather have sex in front of your closest friends or have your sex tape posted online with your face blurred out?"

"This is a good one. Let me think for a minute, I'm still lingering in the land of your last answer." He rubbed his chin and a satisfied smirk came onto my face, because I'd stumped him. "Closest friends, I guess."

"Really? I figured you'd go for the other one."

He glanced at me. "I know I look good naked, but I'm not that conceited, geez."

"I didn't mean it that way." I shook my head and grinned.

"So...would you rather have amazing oral or have great sex for an entire weekend?" he asked.

He grabbed onto my hand and pulled it to his lips before kissing my knuckles. The touch of his lips against my skin was swoon-worthy. My teeth sank into my bottom lip. Jason's eyes met with mine and my stomach clinched at the sight of their smoldering depths.

"What's your answer?" he asked.

Something in his eyes, in his tone, let me know that my answer determined where the night went. This was the final question of the night; it was written all over his face.

"Great sex for an entire weekend," I whispered.

## Chapter 38

# Jason

She'd given the exact answer I'd been hoping for when I'd asked. I didn't want to ruin the mood that had just been set by saying something corny like _then let's start that weekend right now_ , but I'm not going to lie—that was the first line that came into my mind. Instead, I went with something a little more subtle.

"I would have given the same answer," I said. My voice was low and tight from the intense chemistry floating between us. Playing Would You Rather had been the best idea I'd had in a long time. It definitely set the mood and released all the awkward tension from both of us.

I brushed my lips against the tops of her knuckles in the form of soft kisses and heard Blaire's breath catch. Flipping her hand over, I kissed her palm and then moved to press my lips to the delicate skin along the inside of her wrist. Closing my eyes, I kissed her there and nearly lost it when I heard a soft moan float from her lips to my ears.

Blaire brought her other hand up and rubbed along the back of my head, trailing her fingers down my neck. I continued my way up her arm with soft kisses until I reached the thick strap of her tank top. Skipping over it, I planted my next kiss near her collarbone and heard her shudder. Slipping off the countertop, without removing my lips from her, I placed myself between her legs and moved my kisses up her throat. Her head fell back, allowing me better access. Resting my hands along the tops of her thighs, I eased my lips along her jawline.

Blaire's fingertips dug into my shoulders a bit and I paused with my lips mere inches away from hers. Her eyes were closed. She was waiting for the contact with an eager look of desire flitting across her features. With my eyes still open, I pressed my lips to hers in a feather-soft touch. Her arms wrapped around me and pulled me closer. Closing my eyes, I gave in to the yearning to intensify the kiss and she responded by opening her mouth further. The taste of strawberries and chocolate met with my tongue and I ran my hands up underneath the edge of her tank top and along her stomach.

I wanted her so bad I hurt.

Her hands fisted the back of my shirt and she pulled up. Releasing her for just long enough to slip my shirt over my head and toss it to the floor like she wanted, I realized on the kitchen counter was not where I wanted to do this with her. Cupping her face between my hands, I kissed her and then made my way to her earlobe.

"Can we take this to your room?" I whispered, knowing my breath was hot and husky against her ear. She nodded, but didn't speak. I pulled her earlobe into my mouth and scraped my teeth along it gently. "Let's go, then."

Interlocking her fingers with mine, she pulled me along through the hallway and into her room. She flicked the light on and winked at me, her eyes hooded with lust. "You said you liked to do it with the lights on, right?" She cocked an eyebrow at me and her lips twisted into a wicked grin.

Damn, she was gorgeous. This woman was going to be the end of me.

I grabbed her hips and crushed my lips to hers. "Definitely."

Walking slowly with our lips locked together, we made our way to her bed. Crawling backward across the mattress, Blaire's fingers found their way to the button on my shorts and began undoing it. Maybe I hadn't been the only one with built-up sexual tension flooding my veins. She seemed to be suffering from the same.

Slipping her thumbs through my belt loops, she tugged at my shorts, but didn't pull them off. I smirked as I continued to kiss her. I knew this move well, it was the one women used to let you know they wanted you to stop and pull off your own damn clothes. Pressing my weight down on her a slight bit more, I did no such thing and slowed down my kisses. I was in no rush. In fact, I planned on taking my sweet time with her tonight.

Shifting all of my weight onto one arm, I slipped my hand beneath her tank top and stroked along her stomach. Her fingers trailed against the bare skin of my back and her knees spread open to accommodate for my body tucked between them. This pushed us closer together and caused my shorts and boxers to constrict me even more.

"Can I take this off?" I asked. I tugged at the hem of her tank top and kept my voice low.

"Yes," she whispered. It was breathy and sexy as hell.

I pulled my weight off her as she lifted up and waited for me to do what I'd asked. Tossing the shirt to the side, I swept my eyes along the newly revealed portions of her. She wore a pink lacy bra that seemed to squeeze her voluptuous breasts tightly. Either those beautiful things had grown since I'd last seen them, or else that bra was doing wonderful things and she'd gotten her money's worth.

As she lowered herself back down, I slipped my hands up her sides, over her ribs, and around her back to unclasp her lacy bra. With one gentle tug it was undone and her breasts spilled free. Pulling the straps down her arms with my hands while I kissed her softly, I tossed the thing to the side and glanced down at her. She was stunning, staring up at me, those bright eyes wide and eagerly waiting for what I would do next.

Shifting my body into a position I could move around in, I skimmed my lips down the length of her throat. I paused once I reached her collarbone and let my tongue lightly trail down from there to between her breasts. A moan escaped her and her hips came up to press against me. The hint of a smile twisted across my face as satisfaction pulsed through me.

I was going to make love to Blaire Hayes, the way I should have the night our baby was conceived, and she was going to enjoy every second of it.

Running the pads of my fingers across the delicate, sweet-smelling skin of hers, I savored the sounds she made. I could tell she was struggling to hold them all in, to control how much she revealed to me about the way I was making her feel. This turned me on. I wanted to force her to let loose, to get so involved in how I was touching her and what I was making her feel that she forgot about the noises she made or the expressions that flitted across her face after each one.

I wanted Blaire to get lost in me.

Trailing my tongue along the length of her stomach, my hands came up to cup the minute baby bump she had forming. Placing a soft kiss there, I flicked my eyes up to meet with hers.

"Hold tight, little peanut," I whispered against her skin.

Gripping the waistband of her yoga pants and the panties beneath, I tugged them both down in a few motions. She kicked them off and then reached for my shorts again.

"If I have to be fully naked with the lights on right now, then so do you," she said.

Pulling my shorts and boxers off, I wadded them up and tossed them to the floor. Her arms wrapped around me and her fingers splayed across my back as she pressed me closer to her.

"Better?" I asked.

"Much."

My lips met with hers again and I intertwined my fingers through her hair as I cupped the sides of her face. Pushing her back down onto the mattress, I hovered above her and slowed our kisses to featherlight brushes once more. Brushing the hair away from her face, I stared at her for a moment. "Are you all right with this?" I needed to be sure.

Blaire nodded and smiled. "Yes."

"Okay." I grinned back at her.

My lips grazed hers and I felt her thighs tremble against me. The only sound I could hear was the roaring of my heart as I attempted to keep the momentum slow and sensual between us. It took everything I had. I wanted nothing more than to go at it like rabbits, but I also wanted this moment to mean something. This is what the first time should have been like, but wasn't, and now I was going to make up for that.

## Chapter 39

# Blaire

I handed Wilma back her baby doll and tried to suppress the saddened expression that desperately wanted to make an appearance on my face. Wilma was not a new resident at Cross Meadows, but she was one that had been here the longest. Just like Mr. Harold, Wilma had been all alone since the day she'd been dropped off. This was why I think she adopted the habit of having a baby doll to take care of.

Wilma rocked her baby in her arms while humming a sweet melody. I stared at her and wondered if she had been a good mother when she'd gotten the chance, or if this was her way of trying to make up for that before she died. I always thought this way with the grumpier residents—I felt like they knew they were dying and the thought scared them so much they couldn't help but be hateful and angry.

"I can't get Cora to burp," Wilma said. "Could you try, sweetheart?"

Carefully, I reached out and scooped Cora from Wilma's arms as though she were a real baby. This was something I'd learned to do the hard way. The first time I attempted to take Cora from her arms, I'd done so by gripping the doll's arm and pulling her away. Wilma had slapped my hand and said I'd hurt her baby. She'd cussed me out and cried uncontrollably for over an hour.

"Sure." I cradled the doll in my arms and then gently swept her up to rest against my shoulder. Patting her back in a mild manner, I glanced at Wilma. Her wild gray hair was a mess today and her clothes didn't match. I smiled at her. "How am I doing?"

"Great, sugar." She grinned. "Oh, I wanted to tell you what happened to me the other day. Boris pulled the damn fire alarm again and scared the shit right outta my baby."

"Oh really?" It was hard not to laugh, but I knew if I didn't contain myself, Wilma would cuss me like I was sure she cussed Boris. She was one of our more blunt, potty-mouthed residents.

"He damn sure did," Wilma added. She waved her hands in the air and grew animated. "And while we were out there, standing around and waiting on all the idiots to realize there wasn't a real fire, I saw Deloris James' family standing with her. I walked right up to them and told those S.O.B.s what their mama had been doing lately."

"What's she been doing now?" I asked.

Deloris was a riot. Since she'd been at Cross Meadows there truly had not been a dull moment. I still wasn't sure if Deloris was a klepto or if she just liked to mess with people and was attention starved. Either way, Deloris managed to steal at least five items from the other residents every day. Sometimes I swore she set goals for herself to see how much crap from others she could stockpile in one day.

"She walked into my room yesterday and stole the blanket right off my bed!" Wilma said. Her cheeks grew rosy red as she talked and little flicks of spit flew from her mouth. "I jerked it from her hand as soon as I seen her carrying it down the hall like it belonged to her."

I pursed my lips together to keep from smiling as I handed her Cora back. "That's horrible. I'm so sorry, Wilma. Well, at least you got it back, right?"

Wilma threw her hand into the air as she curled Cora up against her chest. "I guess so. But I did walk right up to her family and tell them they needed to keep her in a place where she could wear a damn leash, because I was sick of my stuff getting stolen."

"And what did they say?"

"Those fuckers just laughed at me." She rolled her eyes and let out a loud huff before she went back to rocking Cora in her arms. "Which just pissed me off more."

"I bet," I said. I stood and patted her on the shoulder. "Well, I'm sorry to hear that, but I need to make my rounds."

Wilma waved me away. "I'll be here."

Chuckling to myself from Wilma's story, I made my way around the corner to begin my rounds of checking vitals. Pulling my cell from in my pocket, I glanced at the screen, hoping for a text from Jason, but there wasn't one. It was one thirty. Jason and I were supposed to meet up tonight to have dinner at my sister's house. It was a family cookout. Bonnie had decided enough time had gone by and that I needed to let Jason meet the family, and let Mom and Dad in on the fact that I was pregnant. The excuse I'd given her over a week ago that I needed to wait and see what things with Jason were going to be like, if we were going to become a couple or if I didn't think he could hack it, had expired apparently. Even though we'd only been "back together" for a little more than a week now, I was coming up on the nine-week marker...and she was right, it was time I told my parents the news.

I grabbed the plastic container of deviled eggs with both hands and attempted to maneuver the Jeep door closed with my hip. Jason jogged around and closed the door for me before he took the plate from my hands.

"I can carry that," I insisted. "What are you doing?"

He wasn't letting me do anything tonight. I'd offered to make the eggs myself, he had to help. I'd offered to drive here in my car, he insisted we take his Jeep instead, knowing I didn't know how to drive a stick shift. I wasn't sure what was going on with him.

"I've got it," he said. "I should be the one carrying the food in."

"And why is that?"

He shrugged. "Because."

"Because you need to look like the man?" I knew he would hate those words as soon as they'd fallen from my lips, but I didn't know how else to word it.

He stopped and stared at me. "Well...yeah."

I rolled my eyes, but didn't argue with him any further. He was nervous, I could tell, so I'd let his macho man attitude slide, for now. "Whatever, let's just get this over with." I was not looking forward to dinner anymore than he was. My mother was unpredictable.

We stopped in front of my sister's door and I spotted Tinley in the window, staring at us. I waved and her smile grew as she hopped off the couch. I knew she was coming to open the door for us.

"You ready for this?" I asked Jason.

"I have to be, don't I?" he said. That was not the answer I was going for and he knew it. "I mean, yeah, I'm ready. Let's do this." He threaded his fingers through mine while balancing the plate in his other hand.

Tinley threw the door open and charged at me. "Aunt B!" Her little arms wrapped around my thighs and suddenly I was glad I wasn't the one holding the deviled eggs after all.

"Hey, little bit. Are you ready for tomorrow?" I wrapped my arms around her to return her hug.

Tinley lifted her face up to look directly at me. "Tomorrow?" she asked.

Obviously Bonnie hadn't told her about me coming to pick her up for the day tomorrow. Brice had decided golf _was_ more important than Bonnie's day at the summer festival after all, so I was watching Tinley. Jason had better never pull that crap on me with our baby.

"Oh, I guess your mama didn't tell you," I said with a smile. "Should I tell her, Jason?" I glanced at him like I was really contemplating whether I should.

He smiled at me. He knew I was supposed to get Tinley for the day tomorrow, but I don't think he expected her not to know. This was the fun part of being an aunt, letting the kids in on surprises and not having to deal with all the nagging about when it would be.

"Yes!" Tinley shouted. Her eyes locked with Jason's and she began tugging on the leg of his shorts to further exaggerate her point.

I watched him as he grinned down at her and my heart swelled with joy. What if we were having a baby girl, was this how he would be with her? I hoped so. He had this warm look etched into the contours of his face and his eyes were sparkling as he smiled down at her.

"Yes, I think you should." He glanced at me and winked, like he knew all along I would tell her; either that or Tinley had wormed her way into his heart already.

"Okay, well if Jason thinks I should then..." I paused and motioned for her to come closer, so I could whisper in her ear. "You're going to spend the day with me tomorrow."

"Yay!" Tinley shouted. She clapped her hands and broke out into a big grin.

"Wow, it's like you just told her you're the tooth fairy or something," Jason whispered against my ear. "And we haven't even walked in the door yet. Is she always this excited to see you?"

I nodded. "Of course, I'm Aunt B."

Jason grinned and wrapped his free arm around me to pull me in for a hug. As he kissed me on the forehead, Bonnie came around the corner and spotted us in the doorway.

"Hey, guys," she said. "Glad you could make it."

Her eyes met with mine and I knew with just one look that our parents were not being the best of guests. Again. Sometimes Bonnie and I wondered why they even stayed together—they fought all the time.

"Yeah, thanks for the invite," Jason said. "Where should I set these?"

"Oh, you can set them in the fridge," Bonnie said. She pointed to where the kitchen was and Jason let go of me to place them in the fridge.

Bonnie looped her arm through mine as she closed the door behind me. "Well, isn't he a peach?"

"What the hell does that mean?" I asked in a hushed whisper. I didn't want Tinley or Jason to hear.

Bonnie glared at me. "Chill, preggo. All I mean is that he's a cutie."

I relaxed a little. This whole dinner had me on edge. "Thanks. So, Mom and Dad are at it again, huh?"

Bonnie waved a hand as we made our way into the kitchen and toward the French doors that led out to the deck and backyard. "You know them, just a small spat. Mom forgot to get beer and all we have are Brice's Blue Moons."

I rolled my eyes. "Great, now Jason gets to see the family the way we really are, a bunch of crazed people who fight all the freaking time over stupid stuff like that. As if he wasn't nervous enough."

"He's nervous? Aww, how sweet," Bonnie said. We rounded the corner into the kitchen and I spotted Jason, staring at all the family pictures on Bonnie's fridge. "Feel free to grab yourself a beer."

"Thanks, I'll just have one," Jason said to me. He opened the fridge and grabbed one out. "It's nice to finally meet you, by the way. I'm Jason."

"Nice to meet you too." My sister smiled. "I'm Bonnie."

I couldn't believe I'd forgotten to introduce them. Tinley swept into the room with a picture in her hand. I knew it was for me. She was always coloring me something.

"Aunt B," she said. "Here." She held up the picture and I smiled. It was a picture of a purple elephant with pink grass surrounding it.

"Aww, thank you. I'll be sure to put it on my fridge when I get home," I said. I bent down and gave her a kiss on the cheek as I took the picture from her. "Can I set it here for right now?"

"Sure," she said. She bolted through the French doors and disappeared into the yard.

I went to the cabinet beside the sink and pulled out a glass. My mouth had suddenly gone dry. I needed something to drink before I stepped through those doors and introduced Jason to my parents.

"There's lemonade in there," Bonnie said. "I'd better head outside and make sure Tinley isn't playing too close to the grill."

"Where's Brice?" I asked.

"Talking with Dad, I'm sure," Bonnie said as she walked out.

I poured myself some lemonade and took a long swig. Jason stood leaning up against the counter, his face beaded with a sheen of sweat.

"Come on," I said, smiling at him. "Let's get this over with."

We stepped outside and Mom instantly came over and wrapped me in a hug.

"Oh my word, look at the two of you," she said. "You look great, Blaire. Wish your father and I could see you more often."

And there is was. The first of many jabs she would be taking at me throughout the night.

"Jesus, Lydia, at least let the girl step through the door before you go harping on her for not coming around as much as you'd like," Dad shouted from where he sat near Brice and the grill. "Maybe that's why, because you hover too damn much."

"I do not _hover_ , Chad, I mother," Mom said. She'd spun around to face him, but he'd already turned back to the grill and was taking another swig from his beer.

Oh my God, this was going to be horrible.

"Forget him," Mom said, shifting her attention back to us. "And who is this handsome young man, Blaire? I didn't know you were finally dating someone."

I released a long breath and prayed my words didn't sound too snippy. "Yeah, I am. This is Jason. Jason Bryant."

Mom beamed up at Jason. "Ah, a Bryant, huh? Are you Sharon Bryant's son?"

"I am," Jason said, unfazed by my mother's horrible behavior. "It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Hayes."

"Nice to meet you too," Mom said. She started toward the patio set Bonnie and Brice must have pulled into the yard for the cookout, because I remembered it being on their deck last time I was here. "Come sit. Let's talk."

We both followed my mother down the stairs and into the yard. Jason pulled my chair out for me and I sat. Mom sat across from me, her blue eyes the same shade as mine, churning with questions.

How the hell was I going to make it through this?

## Chapter 40

# Jason

I didn't know who was more nervous in this situation—me or Blaire. All that kept running through my mind was what she had said when we'd had dinner with my mom—how her mom had so many expectations for her daughters and that there was a strong possibility Lydia might not be too thrilled about this entire situation.

"So, what do you do, Jason? Are you a student?" Lydia asked.

I swallowed hard and cleared my throat. "I work at Haven Software. I'll also be interning at the children's home on Woodmont Avenue in about a week."

This wasn't the entire truth, since I wasn't supposed to start at either place for another week or so, but it was better than saying I worked as a lifeguard at the public pool. Blaire flashed me a quick grin. Guess I'd forgotten to mention over the last week and a half where I worked. She seemed pleased and so did her mom. For the time being. The jobs I'd just listed were better than some my age, so it must count for something.

"I might be wrong here, but I thought you'd chosen to move away shortly after your father passed," Lydia said, remaining perfectly poised.

My heart kick-started. "Yes, ma'am," I said politely with a little nod. I took a small swig of my beer and saw Blaire's mother's eyes take note to the action. "I moved to Tennessee for a while."

"Tennessee? What was there?" Lydia asked. Her eyes trained on me like a predator scoping out its prey.

"Mom, seriously, you don't need to get so personal." Blaire chuckled, but it was forced.

Lydia waved her off. "I'm not getting personal, dear. Jason doesn't mind, do you? We're just getting to know one another."

"No, Blaire's right," Blaire's dad shouted over his shoulder. "You're doing that damn nosy thing you do so well, _dear_."

Lydia smacked a hand down on the table. "I am not, Chad. I'm simply getting to know the young man our daughter has chosen to date. If you would ever decide to take an interest in the lives of our children maybe you would know what it looked like when you saw it!"

"Okay," Bonnie cut in. Her eyebrows went straight to her hairline as she glanced at Blaire. "First, Dad, could you please cut the cuss words out. Tinley is at the age where she's starting to pick up that sort of language, which is the last thing I need right now. Second, Mom, maybe your questions are coming off a little personal."

Chad scrunched his face up. "Yeah, I will. I remember when you girls were that age. Remember that, Lydia? Remember what Blaire said for weeks?" He laughed and I relaxed some. The situation had been defused. Was that Bonnie's role in the family?

Lydia tried to suppress a smile, but couldn't manage to. "Yes. I remember." She turned in her seat to glare at Chad and point a finger. "But it was your fault. The girls never heard me use that type of language."

Bonnie burst into a fit of laughter. "I remember that too!"

"What's so funny?" Blaire asked. Obviously the memory had slipped her mind.

I took a long swig of my beer and wondered for a moment whether Blaire would notice if I had another. Her family seemed like the type you needed more than one beer to be around. They were a mixture of comedy and tension.

"When you were like three or four, you went around for weeks saying," Bonnie paused and searched for where Tinley was at, " _son of a bitch_ every time you dropped something!"

Everyone laughed, even me. Blaire's face grew red and she narrowed her eyes at Bonnie.

"How would you know, you can't honestly tell me you remember that? You were what, six or seven then?" Blaire asked.

"Oh I remember it all right, because at first Mom thought _I_ taught it to you. Then she heard Dad yell it at the TV one night during a football game and realized where it came from." Bonnie grinned.

I glanced at Chad. He was shaking his head, lost in a fit of laughter. His entire face was a shade of red so bright, it was nearly purple. Just looking at him made me laugh harder.

"It's true! I was so upset with both of you girls," Lydia said between giggles. She wiped the corners of her eyes and attempted to contain herself. "I couldn't get you to stop saying that for weeks, Blaire, weeks! And it just so happened to be your first month of preschool. Those teachers gave me the dirtiest looks when I came to pick you up."

I finished off my beer and leaned back in my chair some. Blaire was laughing so hard, she was clutching her stomach. The sight made my heart swell. God, she was beautiful when she smiled.

"I must have gotten my mouth washed out thirty times before Mom realized it had come from Dad!" Bonnie continued. "You just wait, when you have this baby I'm going to pull some crap like that on you as payback."

The entire mood of the backyard shifted to a standstill. Bonnie slapped a hand to her mouth and I truly thought her eyes might pop out of her head.

"Whoa, little Blaire is pregnant?" Brice, Bonnie's dickhead of a husband, asked.

That douche hadn't even said a single word to me since I'd gotten here, but I'd seen him eyeballing the beer in my hand when Blaire and I had walked out. Guess he didn't like sharing, unless he was sucking up to someone.

My eyes shifted to Blaire. All the color had drained from her face. "I...umm..." She trailed off.

I reached out and grabbed her hand. Her eyes met with mine and I smiled at her.

"Is it true, Blaire?" Lydia asked. Her voice had taken on a sharp tone. "Is this why we're all here tonight?"

From in the corner of my eye I saw Bonnie sit down. "I'm sorry, Blaire."

Blaire returned my smile and I squeezed her hand in mine. She let out a deep breath. "It's fine, really. And yeah, I am pregnant. Almost nine weeks now."

Her eyes left mine to seek out those of her parents. My heart thudded in my chest louder than I'd ever heard it before. I carefully glanced in Chad's direction. Even though Blaire and I were both adults, you still never knew how a dad would react when he heard the news that his little girl had been knocked up by someone she'd been dating for such a short time.

Chad raised his beer to me. "Congratulations. Welcome to the family. Treat my baby right and we'll be okay." He winked and smiled before putting his beer to his lips.

Relief buzzed through me stronger than the adrenaline coursing through my system. Chad was all right. I nodded at him and tipped back my beer. My eyes shifted to Brice and I noticed the look of pure disgust on his face. I was sure he had never gotten such a welcoming invite into the family. Obviously, he and I weren't ever going to get along—especially not after that moment.

"Blaire," Lydia said. Her voice had lost the sharp tone. "And here I thought you'd be the one to travel and become successful at something besides being a wife and a mother. I thought you would be the one to break the cycle of the women in our family."

The sadness in her mother's words made my eyebrows draw together. I stroked my thumb back and forth against the outer edge of Blaire's hand that I still clasped. I lowered my eyes to stare at the slight amount of pollen covering the glass tabletop in front of me, thinking of what I should say here. "She could still travel and become something successful besides a wonderful mother and wife. I won't let her feel like her life is ended because of this child we've brought into the world," I said.

Brice scoffed from where he stood and I wanted to deck him.

Maybe I should have kept my mouth shut, maybe not, I couldn't be sure. But I did know that I was glad I'd had enough liquid courage in me to be able to say _something_. This moment shouldn't rest entirely on Blaire' s shoulders—the reason we were here right now was because of both of us, equally. Besides, didn't Lydia realize that she herself could travel and hold a successful career all on her own now? I mean, her kids were grown.

"Umm...and I haven't broken the cycle enough?" Bonnie demanded. "I'm successful!"

"Sure you are." Brice patted her on the arm as he walked to the grill to flip whatever it was he was burning. He shook his head and smirked. "Sure you are, honey."

"Don't patronize me, _Brice_!" Bonnie shouted after him. "If it wasn't for me and my _hobby money_ , you wouldn't be able to go freaking golfing tomorrow, would you?"

Ouch. There was a storm brewing there. Blaire shifted closer to me; releasing my hand, she laid hers on my knee. I draped my arm over her shoulders and pulled her into me a little more. The sound of her taking in a deep breath filled my ears.

"Bonnie, you know that's not what I meant," Lydia said. She shifted her gaze back to Blaire. "I'm just shocked, that's all. Are you still planning to finish out school at least?"

Blaire nodded. "I'll more than likely put it off for a year, but yes, I do plan to eventually get my RN License still."

"What about a place to stay? Is Paige moving out or are you all going to bunk together?"

Blaire squirmed against me, obviously uncomfortable with the questions. "I'm not sure yet."

My stomach clinched. Jesus, we must look so unprepared to her mother.

"Lydia, leave them alone with the third degree. They'll get it all figured out, they're smart," Chad said. He squeezed her shoulder as he walked past us and into the house. "No one is ever prepared for parenthood. No matter how much they save or how set they are in the mind about having children—they all find out sooner or later that parenthood isn't something you can ever truly prepare for."

Lydia smiled and shook her head. Tears began to fall from her eyes and then I realized Blaire was crying as well. "He's right. No one can ever be completely prepared. We all learn as we go—that's one of the joys of it. I'm sorry I reacted so badly, honey."

She reached out and Blaire went to her for a hug. I smiled watching them, and pushed my empty beer bottle away. A freshly opened one was placed in front of me.

"Here, you look like you could use another drink." Chad grinned. "And don't worry about that asshole out there. He's lucky I don't sucker punch him for the way he talked to my daughter just then."

I laughed and gripped the cold beer. Tipping it back, I let the smoothness slide down my throat and wash away my nerves. Chad slid the chair beside me out and sat. He clinked his beer to mine.

"You've got a long way to go, but I've got a feeling you two will be just fine," he said.

Grinning, I thought about how much I agreed with his statement and took another sip.

## Chapter 41

# Blaire

I pulled into the parking lot below the shops that ran along Main Street and searched for a parking space. At seven forty-five in the morning, the Coldcreek Summer Festival was in full swing already. People were scurrying around setting up their little booths with homemade crafts and summer-themed foods. The sweet smell of fresh watermelon met with my nose and I inhaled deeply. I smiled as I walked past the booth where the mouthwatering scent was coming from. The standard banner hung off the canopy tent above the table made my smile grow.

**Watermelon Seed Spitting Contest**

This was my favorite table growing up. It was the only reason I enjoyed coming to the festival at all. I waved to the Coopers, who ran the stand every year, as I passed by and continued in my search for Bonnie. Spotting her sandwiched between old Mrs. Claire's bakery table and Mr. Dobson's woodworking crafts, I started in her direction. Mrs. Claire noticed me walking up and flashed me a large smile that I returned. She was the sweetest old lady, the epitome of what a small town was all about.

"Good morning, sweetheart," Mrs. Claire said to me. "Someone's all excited to be spending the day with you."

I followed her stare to where Tinley sat, eating an extra-large blueberry muffin. Her face lit up when she saw me walking toward her.

"Aunt B!" she shouted. "I've been waitin' on you!"

She was the cutest little thing, dressed in a white T-shirt with little pink flowers and a sparkly pink tutu skirt. I bent down and gave her a hug.

"You've been waiting on me, huh?" I asked with a grin. "Well, I'm here. Let me see if your mom needs any help and then you and me will head out to have a day of fun."

Tinley nodded and went back to her chair, stuffing the muffin in her mouth as she went. I stood and eyeballed the table Bonnie was setting her stuff up on. There were boxes of stuff stacked on each other and she was fiddling with a tablecloth, appearing to be severely frustrated.

"Do you need any help?" I asked.

Bonnie pursed her lips together. "Hmm, think you can help me find a place that exchanges P-O-S husbands for ones who are worth an S-H-I-T?" She glanced at Tinley as though she hoped she hadn't managed to learn how to spell overnight.

"Yikes, are you two still arguing?"

She set the tablecloth she was fighting with down. "What gave you that idea? Of course we are. He should be here right now being supportive and helping me set this table up before taking Tin for the day and spending some quality freaking time with her, but where is he? Out on the golf course, probably popping back a few beers and laughing it up about how stupid he thinks this entire thing I'm doing is."

I grabbed the opposite ends of the tablecloth and began to help drape it over the table, trying to hold back my grin. Bonnie was hilarious when she was pissed. At least, I thought so, anyway.

"Forget him," I said. "You're doing this and it's going to be awesome. Loads of people are going to stop by, they're all going to see the cool stuff you make, and your company name is going to get out there more. It's worth it, and it's not stupid. You're proving to your daughter firsthand that a person truly can follow their dreams and be successful. Don't cut yourself down." I meant every word I said.

"Wow." Bonnie smoothed the edges of the tablecloth down and stared at me. "When did you grow up? That was some serious adult advice."

I shook my head and grinned. "I've been grown up, what are you talking about?"

She rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean, and thanks."

"Welcome." I placed my hands on my hips and stared at her tablecloth. It was pale pink with her company name embroidered in a pattern that looked like stitching across the front. "Do you need me to help you set anything else up before Tin and me head out?"

Bonnie checked the time on her phone. "Yeah, if you don't mind. I'm sort of running a little behind."

"Not a problem." I walked around to the back of the table and waited for her to start handing me things to set out.

By the time Tinley and I left the festival it was a little after eleven. I'd walked her around to all the booths and beat her in a game of watermelon seed spitting. Then we decided to get something to eat from the little deli sandwich shop on the corner. I ordered a veggie, since I wasn't too big on meat lately, and got Tinley a turkey and cheese on wheat. We sat inside and ate—something Tinley insisted on. After that we headed to the park for a bit and then to the pool.

Dragging my feet through the women's locker room, I wondered how I would ever be able to keep up with my baby whenever it was Tinley's age. She was so full of energy you'd think someone had slipped her something in her morning muffin.

"Okay, put your foot in." Tinley stepped into her bathing suit and I adjusted the bottoms as I helped her pull them up. "Let's swipe on some sunblock and then you can put your floatie vest on, okay?"

"Okay." Tinley nodded.

After applying sunblock, I helped her slip into the vest Bonnie had bought her online. It resembled a backward life jacket and had the face of an elephant on it. Regardless of how it looked, I knew it was a kick-ass purchase, because the last time I'd brought Tinley to the pool with it, I hadn't had to hold her in the water and help her swim at all. She was self-sufficient with that thing on. All I had to do was sit at the edge of the pool and watch her play. Since I was so exhausted from our day already, this was something I was looking forward to.

Scooping up our bag and shoes, I grabbed Tinley's other hand and we started for the pool. It wasn't nearly as packed as I thought it would be this time of day. The scent of sunblock and chlorine met with my nose as I headed for the first sun chair I spotted to set our things in. Some kid splashed in the water hard as we walked by and water got all over our bag. A whistle blew and I instinctively turned to see where it had come from just as some girl yelled, "Walk!" A guy with dark hair and lean muscles I would recognize anywhere stood off to the side, talking with Marla Danes.

My stomach clinched and I nearly dropped everything I was carrying. What was Jason doing here and why was he hanging out with Marla? My feet froze as I zeroed in on the black cord necklace around his neck and the plaid blue swim trunks he wore. Marla said something that made him laugh. She placed her hand on his chest and he turned away from her to glance around the kiddy pool. The cord was a whistle. Things clicked into place and I realized with certainty Jason was a lifeguard.

He was wearing sunglasses, but even so, the second his eyes locked with mine, I knew. I gripped onto Tinley and bolted for the door without waiting for an explanation from him.

## Chapter 42

# Jason

Blaire. Damn it, I knew I wasn't going to get away with working here undetected until I could switch to Haven Software. The look on her face made my skin prickle with sweat. Before I could say a word to her, she'd gripped Tinley's little hand in hers and started toward the door.

"Trouble in paradise, sugar?" Marla asked. I'd forgotten who I'd been standing with. She shoved me in the direction of the door. "You'd better chase her down. Don't just stand here like a lump on a log."

Fuck. I ran my fingers through my hair. Marla was right, I had to chase Blaire down. She had to know that I was only working here for a few more days and then I truly was starting at Haven and interning at the children's home. I dashed from where I stood to the walkway leading to the parking lot.

"Whoa, where's the fire, bro?" Matt asked as I nearly plowed into him in my effort to get to Blaire in time.

"I'll be right back," I shouted over my shoulder. "Cover my section."

Pausing at the top of the stairs, I searched the crammed parking lot for her car. She was standing beside it, fighting with the clasp on the back of Tinley's vest thing. Thank goodness for small favors.

"Blaire!" I shouted. "Blaire, wait."

She didn't look up at me. Her movements became more frantic, though, letting me know she was desperate to get away from me.

"It isn't what it looks like," I said. Although, I wasn't sure what it looked like to her. Was she pissed I worked here and had lied about it or that she'd seen me with Marla talking? Both? How could I apologize for something when I wasn't sure what the problem actually was?

"Oh, really?" The clasp she'd been messing with finally unhooked and she slipped the vest off Tinley's arms. "Climb in, Tin."

"I didn't swim, Aunt B, I didn't," Tinley whined.

"Don't leave," I said. "Please, let her swim some so we can talk." I was grasping at straws here, but that was all I could think of to say.

"No." She bent down and flashed Tinley a sweet smile. "I think we should go get some ice cream with lots of chocolate syrup and sprinkles, don't you?"

"Yumm!" Tinley shouted. Her eyes grew wide and she reached out to close her door. Blaire let the door close and then walked around to the driver's side.

"Stop." I grabbed her arm. "Please, talk to me. Tell me what has you so upset. Is it because I work here?"

She shook me off and opened the driver side door. Leaning in, she turned the car on and blasted the AC. "Here." She handed Tinley her phone. "You can play that ABC game you like. I need to talk to Jason for just a minute, okay? Then we can go get our ice cream."

Tinley nodded. "Okay!"

Blaire closed her door and folded her arms over her chest. "Talk."

My heart raced and I stood there like a freaking idiot. She was pissed, that much was clear, but I wasn't going to start naming out random things to be sorry for when I wasn't sure what had her riled up enough to leave in the first place. "Tell me why you're mad. Please?" It came out in a more pleading tone than I'd intended.

She rolled her eyes and left them glaring up at the sky. "What are you doing here, Jason?"

Okay, so she was angry that I'd said I worked someplace else. I could fix this.

"I work here. I have been for a little while. The money is pretty decent and I needed something, so when Matt said his dad had a few openings for lifeguards I jumped on the opportunity." This was the truth, whether it would pacify her anger or not was a whole other story.

She shook her head. "Why did you tell my mom you worked at Haven Software and were going to be interning at a children's home?"

"Because it sounded better than saying I was a freaking lifeguard, Blaire." Her bright eyes locked with mine and I instantly regretted the tone I'd used with her. "And it wasn't all a lie. I start at both places in a little over a week."

She bit at her bottom lip and glanced in the car at Tinley. "So, why was Marla hanging all over you? Does she do that a lot?"

And there it was—the real reason for her behavior. Marla just fucked shit up without even trying when it came to Blaire and me. I'd spent the majority of the last week talking with Marla about Blaire and the baby—only because Matt had let it slip to her that I'd gotten someone pregnant. Marla had instantly backed off, claiming she wasn't a homewrecker like her mama. Since then, she'd asked me each time I saw her how things were going with the baby and Blaire. In fact, that's exactly what we'd been talking about—the baby—when Blaire had seen us.

"No. I mean," I backtracked. Marla was there quite a bit, but only because Matt worked there as well. Add in the fact that I didn't think she actually had a day job and a person could say Marla was there more often than not. "She comes by a few times a week, but only because Matt works there too. That's who she's there to see all the time, not me."

Blaire shifted on her feet; her arms unfolded and she crammed her hands into the large pockets on the front of her dress thing she wore. "If she's supposed to be with Matt, then why is it every time I see her she's always hanging all over you?"

"She wasn't hanging all over me this time." As soon as the words left my mouth, I realized my mistake in saying them. Why the fuck hadn't I left the _this time_ part off? "She hadn't been at all. We were just talking," I insisted, trying to rectify what had already been said.

A smile touched the corners of her lips, but it wasn't a happy one. It was more along the lines of an is-that-what-you're-choosing-to-go-with smile and I hated it. I'd already screwed up the conversation so badly that if I were to add in the fact Marla and I had been talking about her and the baby, Blaire would just become more pissed with me.

" _This time_...great." She let out a deep breath and shook her head while looking up at the sky again. I noticed her blink hard a few times and my heart sank—she was blinking back tears. Blaire was so pissed at me she was going to cry. Fuck! "You know, I just can't deal with this. I mean, I get that this," she paused and motioned between the two of us, "didn't exactly happen the way that we wanted, so if you don't want to do this whole _together_ thing with me then I understand, but don't fucking string me along. All right? This is all hard enough on its own. I don't need that added bullshit with it."

I ran my hands through my hair and leaned back, tipping my head to the sky. I wanted to scream at her, to shout that she was blowing this all out of proportion, but knew nothing of that nature would make this better or make her believe me anymore. So I attempted to contain myself.

"I _do_ want to be with you, I promise you this," I said in a low and controlled voice. "Granted, this isn't the way I thought having a kid would happen for me, but it is what it is. I've accepted that and I'm not stringing you along. Okay? I'm not." I pulled my sunglasses off so she could look directly in my eyes and stepped closer to pull her into me, but she shifted out of the way.

"It is what it is, huh?" she muttered. "Great way to view it, Jason. Tell _Marla_ I said hi." She opened her car door and slipped inside. Before I had time to think, she'd already backed out of her parking space and was driving away.

So much for fixing shit, all I'd managed to do was make it worse. Fuck my life.

The crickets sang a song that mingled with the emotions resting in my soul. I tipped the ice-cold beer I held back and closed my eyes to listen. Blaire had avoided all my text messages and let all of my phone calls go directly to voicemail since she'd driven away and left me standing in the parking lot earlier. I'd finished out my shift, grabbed a burger from Burger Buns, a six pack from the gas station, and headed to Gramps' house to sit on the dock over the lake and watch the sun go down.

Surrounded by darkness, I polished off the remainder of my third beer and set it to the side. Leaning back against my palms, I felt the rugged, warm wood of the dock against them and wondered if the water would still be warm enough to swim in. I was still dressed in my swim trunks from work. It had been forever since I'd taken a dip in the lake. Maybe it was something I needed, something that would clear my head enough so I could figure out what exactly I should do to smooth things over with Blaire this time.

I stood and slid off my sandals. Stepping to the edge of the dock, I took in a deep breath and prepared myself to dive in. My phone rang and I bolted for it, praying it was Blaire. It was.

"Hey, listen, I'm really sorry," I rattled off as soon as I answered.

"Jason?" a voice on the other end said. It wasn't Blaire. It was Paige.

"Paige?" I asked, even though I already knew who it was. She let out a deep, shaky breath and I instantly knew something was wrong. "What are you doing calling me from Blaire's phone?"

"Because Blaire's in the hospital," she said.

The dock beneath me spun. My entire world shifted on its axis as my heart roared to life in my ears. Pinpricks of panic stabbed my brain as a string of horrible thoughts trampled through my mind. "What happened? Is she okay?"

"She's going to be okay, but...Jason..." Paige trailed off. My heart dropped to my stomach and dizziness overtook me, causing my knees to weaken. "I think you should come down here."

I swallowed hard. "Is the baby okay?" My voice was barely above a whisper, but I knew she heard me because I heard her inhale sharply at my question. "Paige, please tell me the baby is okay."

"Jason, you really just need to come down here and speak with the doctors and Blaire. I don't think this is something you should hear over the phone." Her voice was thick with emotion and that was all the confirmation I needed to know that something had gone horribly wrong.

"I'll be there as soon as I can." I pinched the bridge of my nose to fight off the tears I felt burning there. "Please tell Blaire for me."

"Okay."

The telltale beep sounded in my ear, letting me know Paige had hung up, and I crumpled to the wooden dock beneath me. An ache spliced through my chest as I released a deep breath in an effort to calm my speeding heart and racing mind.

My child—whose heartbeat I'd only managed to hear once—was gone. I knew this. The truth of it soured my stomach. Gathering myself, I scooped up the keys I'd tossed to the side and slipped on my sandals.

## Chapter 43

# Blaire

I wiped my nose with the crumpled tissue I'd been holding, and felt more tears spring from my eyes. How could this happen to me? Why? I wasn't horribly out of shape. I ate fairly healthy. I didn't smoke cigarettes. I didn't use drugs. I didn't even drink alcohol after finding out I was pregnant. Why? Why had I lost my baby? My chest grew tight as that question pounded through my mind.

The door to my room creaked open, but I didn't turn to see who'd walked through. All I wanted right now was to be left alone.

"I called Jason," Paige said. Even though her voice was soft and smooth, hearing his name made my tears flow faster. "He said he'd be here as soon as he can. I hope you don't mind that I called him. I know you two were having a little spat, but I think he should be here for this."

I didn't answer her. Realistically I knew she was right and that he should be here for this—it was his child, too—but I didn't want him here. I didn't care to see him at all.

"Do you want me to get you anything while we wait for the nurses to discharge you?" Paige asked. I could tell from her voice she'd moved closer to me, but I didn't turn to look at her. I couldn't stand to see the sympathy in her eyes right now.

We lapsed into silence. It buzzed through my ears and allowed my mind to wander to the same heartbreaking questions over and over again. Paige never spoke, she just stood behind me. I could feel her presence suffocating me even though she didn't mean to. The door to the room opened again and I prayed it was the nurse with my papers. I was more than ready to go home.

"I got here as fast as I could," Jason breathed heavily. "They wouldn't tell me much at the desk. What happened?"

My heart stalled at the sound of his voice. I rolled to my side, putting up a wall between Jason and me. The tears spilled from my eyes and trickled off my nose onto the white sheets beneath me. Shoes scuffling across the tiled floor met with my ears and then a large hand slid across my back. A sob escaped me at the touch. I rubbed the heel of my palm against the center of my chest and squeezed my eyes shut in an attempt to keep any more from escaping. All I wanted was for everyone to leave me be, to sink into the mattress of the bed and disappear.

"Blaire?" His voice was so thick with emotion it made my tears flow faster. He obviously knew what had happened, so why did he need to hear me say it? "Tell me. Please."

"I'll be out here if you need anything, Blaire," Paige said. I heard the door creak open and then close softly behind her.

The room was too quiet. My heartbeat was too loud. Jason's touch was too comforting.

"Talk to me, Blaire." There was a pleading tone etched within his words and it tore at me from all angles. He shifted and then I felt the weight of him on the bed behind me. His face nuzzled against my neck as he lay down. His arm slid across my waist and he interlocked his fingers with mine. "Please tell me something."

I broke.

My sobs ripped through the center of my chest, where I'd struggled so hard to suppress them. I squeezed his fingers in mine and brought my other hand to my face. The tears continued to flow relentlessly. Jason sniffled in my ear and I knew he was tearing up too. His hand squeezed mine tighter and I felt the ache in my chest grow as I thought of the words I needed to say.

"It's gone," I finally managed. "Our baby is gone. I lost it."

Another round of sobs racked through my body and I felt my heart shatter and my soul rip to shreds right then. I'd slowly been getting used to the fact I was pregnant, that Jason and I were going to raise a child together, and then it had been ripped from me before I could truly enjoy everything about it. What was wrong with me? This wasn't something I should be going through. A woman was supposed to bear children. What had happened to take that right as a woman away from me?

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Jason whispered against my ear. His hand came up and brushed the damp hair away from my face. "What happened? Are you all right? I mean, there's nothing wrong with you, is there?"

Everything stopped.

... _there's nothing wrong with you, is there?_ The words floated through my mind once more.

"Of course there's something wrong with me. This isn't the natural process. This isn't something that is supposed to happen, Jason." The words flew from my lips before I knew I was going to say them.

He leaned up on his elbow and stared down at me. I could feel his eyes, but I never met them. "That's not what I meant. I just wanted to know if you were okay. Do you have to stay here overnight? Are you in pain?"

"I'm not in much pain now and I can leave when they bring me my papers," I snapped. "You don't have to stay. Paige can take me home."

There was a long moment of silence. I could feel Jason's muscles tense and he released my hand.

"I don't have to stay? What the fuck does that mean?" he spat. "I want to stay. You just miscarried our baby. Of course I'm staying with you right now. Paige can leave. I'll give you a ride home."

I looked at him then. His blue eyes were dark and wild looking. He hadn't been crying, but it was clear to see he'd been on the verge of it. What did that say about us, about how we each viewed this baby? I was a complete wreck...and he couldn't even shed a single tear.

"No. You can leave. I'll go home with Paige," I said. My voice was flat, emotionless. My limbs were weak and heavy. I was exhausted. "I just want to be alone tonight."

Jason sat all the way up in bed, his back to me. I watched as he ran his fingers through his hair and inhaled deeply. He was still dressed in his swim trunks from earlier and a white ribbed tank top. "I can't believe you just said that to me."

I sat up with a wince and leaned back against my palms. "I'll call you tomorrow. I just want to be alone tonight."

He glared at me from over his shoulder. "No." His jaw grew tight. "I'm not leaving you."

The stench of beer on his breath filled my nose suddenly and I lost it. I couldn't believe I hadn't smelled it before. "Where have you been? Have you been partying with Matt and Marla all night?" My blood boiled. If that was where he'd been while I'd been having a miscarriage I never wanted to see him again.

"At my Gramps' house, thinking about our fight from earlier."

"Were you drinking?"

He nodded and ran his hands through his hair again. "Yeah."

"Alone?"

His eyes met mine and I knew he understood what I was really asking—whether Marla was there with him. "Yes, I was alone, Blaire."

I cut my eyes to the wrinkles in the white sheet I sat on, hating I'd just asked that question. "Please just go. You don't want to be around me right now—I don't even want to be around me."

His hand moved to rest on my knee. "But I do, I want to help you through this. We're a couple, this is what couples do. They help each other through the tough times."

A tear slid down my cheek. "But we aren't, we aren't a couple. You only wanted to be with me because I was pregnant with your kid..."

"No." He shook his head. "That's not true and you know it."

"It is," I said. I met his stare and said what I knew would make him walk away so I could be alone like I wanted tonight. "Now that the baby is gone you're off the hook. You don't have to pretend with me anymore and you're free to do whatever you want. Leave."

His brows drew together. "Is that what you really think, how you view this? That I'm off the hook now?"

I nodded, but didn't drop his stare. "It is. So just go."

He eyes remained locked with mine while he chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment. Then he stood and walked to the door. "Fine." He stepped out without another word.

I crumbled back against the bed and cried. Paige let herself back into the room and came to sit on the edge of my bed. Her hand was cool and gentle as it rubbed against my back to soothe me.

A nurse came in with my papers and some instructions on things to look for over the next ten days. I heard her, but couldn't focus on her words.

All I could do was cry.

## Chapter 44

# Jason

She told me to leave. She thought everything between us had been nothing but pretend. How the fuck could she think that? I pulled at my hair as I paced in the parking lot. A knot formed in my stomach and the tears that had threatened to burst from my eyes in the room finally fell free. Everything came crashing down on me at once and I fell apart right there in the parking lot.

When I finally managed to pull myself together, I cranked my Jeep and headed home.

The lights were off when I pulled into the driveway. Mom was home, but she was sleeping. Wiping the snot from my nose with the back of my hand, I killed the engine and headed inside. My legs had a Jell-O-like quality to them as I walked to the door and down the hall to my bedroom. Flopping on the rickety twin from my childhood, I bawled my eyes out until I fell asleep.

The Cross Meadows sign was glaring at me in a mocking way. A cool breeze blew through the trees, causing leaves to fall and dance across the parking lot. I crammed my hands in the front pockets of my shorts. Fall was coming. The signs of it approaching were everywhere.

I hung my head and chewed the inside of my cheek while I waited a few more minutes. I knew Blaire was inside, waiting on me to leave, but I'd decided that I wasn't going to leave today until she talked to me. It was going on week four since I had walked out the door to her hospital room, and I'd beaten myself up about that moment ever since. I should have stayed. I should have known staying was the only way to prove to her that everything she'd said had been wrong. Instead I'd been an idiot and left, and she hadn't returned my calls, replied to my texts, or responded to my Facebook messages since.

She'd cut herself from my life and all I wanted was her back.

The automatic doors to the front of the building slid open, but it wasn't Blaire that came out, it was some short girl with wiry red hair dressed in scrubs. Her face was pinched and her strides were powerful and precise. She was a woman on a mission, and she looked pissed off as hell.

"Blaire doesn't want to see you. She's made that clear," she snapped and I fought the urge to smile. "If you don't remove yourself from the property so she can get into her car and leave without you interfering, I'm afraid we will have to call the police to have you escorted off."

I leaned back against the trunk of Blaire's car a little more. "Is that what she said?"

"Yes," the woman muttered. "You've been warned." She spun on her heel and started back toward the doors.

Jesus, was this for real? Blaire had sent some man-hating She-Ra out to tell me to leave or she was calling the cops? I pulled out my phone and sent Blaire a text.

**No need to call the cops. I'm leaving.**

Peeling myself off her car, I sauntered back to my Jeep. I'd be back tomorrow, after work—just like every other day this week—because I was nothing if not persistent. There had been this yearning in me to learn what the doctors had said in regards to why she'd lost our baby, but my reason for wanting to talk with her went deeper than that... I wanted to be with her again.

I missed her. I missed us.

My phone chimed in my pocket. When I pulled it out and glanced at the screen my heart skipped a beat. It was Blaire.

**Just leave me alone, Jason. Everything happened the way it did for a reason. We weren't meant to be together. I can accept that, why can't you? ~ Blaire**

My eyes skimmed across the screen, rereading her words. They were wrong on so many levels.

**I don't buy that at all. Not even for a second. Bad things happen, Blaire, simple as that. There's no rhyme or reason to it.**

I cranked my Jeep and reversed out of my parking space. As I drove past the automatic double doors to the building, I caught a glimpse of Blaire standing on the other side of them. Her face was expressionless as she watched me drive away.

She looked just as broken as I felt inside.

When I pulled into the driveway behind my mom's car, I cut the engine and sat there. I checked my phone to make sure Blaire hadn't responded back and I just didn't hear it, but she hadn't. Slipping it into my pocket, I grabbed my keys and climbed out. Mom met me at the door. She opened it and I walked in past her.

"How did it go? Did you get to talk to Blaire at all this time?" she asked.

I didn't look at her; I already knew the look that would be reflected on her face. It was one I'd seen on more than one occasion since I told her what had happened—hope—and I couldn't stomach the sight of it right now.

"Not really." I opened the fridge and grabbed a soda. "I watched for her the entire visit with Gramps and never saw her."

I was sure the nurses she worked with had some sort of secret code for me being in the vicinity so she would stay away, because too much time had passed for us not to run into each other there.

"But?" There was that sense of hopefulness. It had made its way into her voice now.

It had killed Mom when I told her the news about the baby. Later, when I thought on it more, I understood why. It was like the universe was dead set on bringing all these wonderful things into our lives and then ripping them away just when we were happy and content.

I popped the top on my soda. "There really is no but... One of the girls she works with came out and threatened to call the cops if I didn't leave, so I left."

A gasp escaped her. "She wouldn't."

"I have no clue." I took a sip of my soda and crammed my other hand into my pocket while I leaned against the kitchen counter. "She did send me a text finally."

"What did it say?" She grabbed a rag off the counter and began wiping at an area where whatever it was she'd attempted to cook last night had splattered.

I handed her my phone, the message still pulled up, and let her read it for herself.

"You said the right thing." She handed me the phone back and smiled. "She's just devastated right now over all this, honey. I'm sure she'll come around."

"Yeah, when?" I scoffed. "And I'm just as devastated by this as her." I sounded like a child. I knew this, but I didn't care.

It was the truth.

## Chapter 45

# Blaire

I peeked out the double doors to search the parking lot for Jason. He wasn't there, leaning against my car like yesterday. For a split second I wondered if it was because he'd started that internship at the children's home. If so, I was sure he was doing great with it. A small smile twisted the corners of my lips as I thought of this, but I forced the smile away.

Turning, I forced all thoughts of Jason out of my mind and headed to finish taking vitals on my last two residents before leaving for the night. As I walked down the hall his text from last night flashed through my mind again.

_I don't buy that at all. Not even for a second. Bad things happen, Blaire, simple as that. There's no rhyme or reason to it._

My lips dipped into a frown. Jason would know the truth to those words better than anyone, because he'd already lost too much—his father, his grandmother, and now his Gramps was barely hanging on by a thread. We'd already notified his mom a week ago that his health was dropping drastically. He wouldn't last much longer.

Bert, an old man who insisted we call him by his first name, hobbled past me with a grin. He never talked much, only when he didn't like something, but he always had a smile on his face. As I stepped into my first resident's room, I happened to glance back down the hall and caught a glimpse of Bert walking out the front door. The alarm went off and Bert started moving faster. I dashed down the hall to stop him.

This was not uncommon. Bert had attempted to escape on more than one occasion. Thank goodness for the system Cross Meadows had in place. Each resident wore a bracelet and when they went through any of the outside doors, it went off.

Bert had made it to the middle of the parking lot when I bolted through the double doors and spotted him. I moved around to the front of him as quickly as I could. "Bert, what are you doing out here? Did you get lost?" I asked, using my sweetest voice. I learned early on that in situations like this, residents could become mean and nasty real quick. "Let's get you back inside."

"No!" he shouted like a toddler and flung his arm out of my grip.

Great, he was going to be a fighter this time. I glanced at the doors, wondering when someone was going to come out and help me. There was no way I could get him back inside by myself.

"Bert, you know you shouldn't be out here." I attempted to grip his arm again, but he swung at me. His fist barely missed connecting with my jaw. This was one of the main issues with my occupation—uncooperative residents. "Bert, let's go." I gripped his arm tighter and used my most firm voice.

He bit me.

"Ouch!" I shouted and smacked his hand so he'd release me. "Damnit, Bert!"

"Looks like you could use some help?" a familiar voice stated.

My insides buzzed to life at the sound of the voice. I glanced over my shoulder and spotted Jason standing with his hands crammed in the front pockets of his shorts and a smug smile twisted on his face. His beautiful blue eyes were locked on mine and I felt my legs weaken at the sight of them.

"Umm." I glanced at the double doors. No one was coming. What the hell was going on in there right now? "Sure, he's not being very nice." I said the words a little louder for Bert to hear. He didn't even seem fazed by them.

"I saw that." His smug grin grew and he walked around to Bert's other side and gripped his arm. "Come on, Bert. You have to go back inside."

Bert whined and let his entire body go limp. I gripped onto him tighter so he wouldn't slip from my grasp and hurt himself as I helped to carry him back into the building. Once inside, I realized why no one had come out to help; they must have seen me getting Bert and thought I could handle it alone while they all stayed inside, attempting to calm down the chaos that had exploded. There was an actual fight going on between Wilma and Deloris over her baby doll. It was taking three nurses to calm down that argument. The other two nurses were nowhere to be seen.

Jason helped me get Bert back to his room. We laid him on his bed, and I checked his vitals. He was unresponsive to my movements as I did this. It was as though he'd completely shut down after realizing he wasn't going to get away. Cross Meadows wasn't a bad place to live, but it was nothing like being independent and living on your own.

"So, is this something you deal with every day working here?" Jason asked.

I nodded. "Pretty much. Yesterday I nearly got kicked in the face while changing a guy's brief." I closed the door behind us as we walked out, leaving Bert alone.

"His brief?"

"Yeah, we aren't supposed to call them diapers." I smiled. Heat radiated through my chest, putting my mind at ease for the first time in weeks and lightening the load on my shoulders.

"Hold on," Jason demanded. He stepped in front of me and stared at my face as though he were examining me like a doctor. His face grew slack, like he'd found what he'd been looking for. "Pinch me."

"What?" Where the hell had that come from?

"Pinch me, please, I need to know something."

His face was unreadable, but I swore if this was part of some pickup line he was going to get smacked. I reached out and pinched his arm, hard. If I had permission to pinch someone, then I was going to do it right.

"Ouch, ouch! Okay!" he shouted and I laughed. It was the first time I'd laughed in three weeks and it felt amazing. "I've got my answer."

"Answer to what, exactly?"

He grinned at me. "That even though I can see you standing here with me, I can hear you talking, and see your lips twist into a hint of a smile every now and then, I'm not dreaming. I'm awake."

My smile grew and I shook my head. "I should slap you for that corny pickup-type line right now."

"Oh really? What's stopping you?" He chuckled. I started to say something, but his cell rang in his pocket. "Just a second, that's my mom's ringtone. She probably needs me to pick up dinner or something because she burnt hers to the point of it not being recognizable."

"I'm actually going to go check my next resident's vitals real quick," I said.

He nodded and hit answer. "Hey, Mom."

I turned to head into Mr. Gregory and Mr. Colman's room, but paused when I heard Jason say he was at Cross Meadows so there was no way someone wouldn't have told him. My heart stopped. I knew exactly why the two nurses were missing a second ago—Jason's Gramps had passed away.

My skin tingled as I slowly turned to face him. His index finger and thumb were pressed to the bridge of his nose and his face had gone pale. Tammy caught my eye from behind him and she shook her head, her eyes wide and tear filled. There was nothing worse than having to tell someone their loved one had passed on—except for having to do it face to face.

## Chapter 46

# Jason

After I hung up with my mom I just stood there, rooted in place and unblinking. Gramps had died and I'd been here at fucking Cross Meadows, but not with him. I was a horrible grandson. Blaire moved to stand directly beside me. The smell of the citrus lotion she always used wafted to my nose and all I wanted to do was burry my face in her neck and sob like a baby.

"I'm sorry. We all knew he was getting close, but we can't predict exactly when it will happen," she whispered. "Do you want to see him? Tammy just let me know everything has been cleaned up."

"Mom's upset she couldn't make it here in time," I muttered. "But I was here. And I wasn't there to hold his hand as he passed on. Fuck!" I ran my fingers through my hair and shifted my gaze to the tiled floor.

"He was ready to go, Jason. You can't beat yourself up for not being right there with him."

Easier said than done.

Her hand reached up to rub my forearm. "Come on, I'll walk you down there."

Coldness hit my core and traveled through my entire body in a matter of seconds. I wasn't sure I could handle seeing him. Images of both my father and grandmother lying in their caskets, all fixed up as though they were sleeping, racked through my brain. Gramps wouldn't look that way. He wouldn't look like he was sleeping. He'd look as though he'd just died. Would his eyes be closed? Would he have some horrible expression of pain stamped on his face?

"I don't think I can, Blaire." I glanced at her. Reflected in her eyes I could see her sympathy and worry, but her face appeared determined and strong. She was stunning. "I think I'll just wait until the funeral for my goodbyes."

She let out a breath. "Are you sure? I'll go in there with you if you want. You're not alone, Jason."

I shook my head. "I just can't right now."

She released her grip on my arm. "Okay, umm, let me get my things and I can drive you home or to wherever your mom is, in case you want to be with her right now."

I crammed my hands in my pockets and willed myself to not shed a single tear while in her presence for the best man I'd ever known. "I'll be fine. Mom's on her way to the house. I'll meet up with her in a bit."

"No. I'm clocking out, my shift is over now. I'll take you where you need to go. I don't want you driving right now," she insisted.

"I'll be outside." I didn't argue with her further. I wasn't in the mood.

A cool breeze hit me as soon as I stepped outside. There was a tightness that started in my throat and made its way down to my lungs. My eyes filled with tears, but I refused to let myself cry. Not in front of Blaire. Not until I was all alone. I started across the parking lot and heard the double doors open behind me. Hurried footsteps rushed to catch up with me.

Blaire put her hand on my shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"Not a good question to ask me right now," I scoffed.

"Right. Sorry," she muttered. "Umm, where do you want me to take you? Home?"

I thought for a minute. Home was the last place I wanted to be. I knew my mom would be there, crying and beating herself up for not being there to say one last goodbye to her father. I didn't need to see that right now. I had to gather myself up first before I could help her pick up the pieces and attempt to soothe her.

"Take me to my Gramps' house," I said. I opened the passenger door to her car and slid in. "I think I just need to sit on the dock for a while."

"Okay, can you give me directions?"

Directions were the only thing said during the car ride from Cross Meadows to Gramps' house. When we pulled into his driveway, I expected Blaire to let me out and then leave, but she didn't. Instead she cut the engine and turned to face me. "So what are we doing here?" she asked.

I stared straight ahead. "Taking a moment to reflect."

She unbuckled and started to open her door. "Are you planning on reflecting in the car or are you actually going to get out?" A small smile flickered at the corners of her lips.

Gripping the handle, I let myself out and closed the passenger door. "You don't have to stay, you know. I'm not planning on jumping in the lake and drowning or anything, and I can always call Matt or someone to give me a ride home later."

"I want to be here," she said. Her hand reached out for mine and she threaded our fingers together.

A small sigh escaped me as the soft warmth of her hand traveled up my arm. We walked around to the back of the house until we reached the dock leading out to the lake.

"This place is beautiful," Blaire whispered.

I smiled, looking out at the rippling water. "It is, isn't it? This was my favorite place growing up. I must have spent every summer fishing here on this very dock until I was a sophomore in high school."

We walked to the edge of the dock and sat, slipping my sandals off while Blaire carefully removed her sneakers and socks. The water was just high enough to barely skim her big toe. I glanced at her. A gentle breeze swept over the lake and ruffled the fine hairs sticking out from her ponytail. Something swelled in my chest and I realized right then that the only reason I wasn't falling apart was because of her. Her presence soothed me in more ways than I could describe.

Time passed as we sat there in silence, staring out at the water and watching the sun disappear behind it. The tightness in my throat had diminished while in Blaire's presence and I felt like it was time for me to head home. My mom needed me. This was the moment when I could make up for all the times I'd bailed on her previously when faced with the death of a loved one. It was time I became strong for her.

"I think I'm ready for you to take me home now," I said.

Blaire jumped when I spoke. It was obvious she'd been lost inside her own mind the entire time and I'd startled her free. That was one of the best parts of staring fixedly at a slice of nature's uncorrupted beauty—the ability it had to captivate you completely for an undetermined length of time if you let it.

"Okay." She picked up her shoes and socks and carried them as she walked across the wooden planks making up the dock. "I don't know who needed that moment more, me or you."

"What did you reflect on?"

"Us."

I paused at the side of her car. "Did you come to any conclusions?"

She met my stare. "I did. Life's too short and fragile."

Her words penetrated through me. They resonated with me in a way I couldn't begin to describe even if I tried. "I couldn't agree more."

She opened her door and I caught sight of a small smile in the interior light. Climbing in the passenger seat, I decided to take a chance. Leaning over the center console, I cupped her face in my hands and crushed my lips to hers just like I'd envisioned doing for the past three weeks. When I thought she wasn't going to respond back, her lips began to move beneath mine. The kiss was perfect.

"Thank you," I whispered, pulling away from her to gaze into her eyes.

"For what?"

"For being here for me, when I'm too stubborn to admit I need someone most." I brushed my thumb over her bottom lip as I continued to hold her stare. "I'm so sorry I wasn't this persistent with you when we lost our baby, Blaire. You have no idea how much that is killing me right now—how much I hated myself after I walked away."

"Shh, if I've learned anything from sitting on that dock with you tonight, it's that you can't live in the past, you have to continue forward, because you never know when everything might end." She pressed her lips to mine again in the form of a gentle kiss. "Now let's get you home so we can make sure your mom is okay."

Blaire buckled up as I closed my door. Cranking the engine to her Mazda, Gramps' house became illuminated in her headlights and a sense of eerie calm passed over me. I'd said my goodbye the way I'd wanted, in the place that had mattered to us both the most—on the dock, overlooking the lake. I buckled my seatbelt and smiled.

Through all the shit life would be sure to toss my way in the future, Blaire's words were something I was positive I would always remember.

_You can't live in the past, you have to continue forward, because you never know when everything might end_.

# Thank You

Thank you for reading _BREAK YOU_ , I hope you enjoyed it! Please consider leaving an honest review at your point of purchase. Reviews help me in so many ways!

If you would like to know when my next novel is available, you can sign up for my newsletter here: https://jennifersnyderbooks.com/want-the-latest/

* * *

Also, feel free to reach out and tell me your thoughts about the novel. I'd love to hear from you!

Email me at: jennifersnyder04@gmail.com

* * *

To see a complete up-to-date list of my novels, please take a moment to visit this page:

http://jennifersnyderbooks.com/book-list/

# Control You

**Return to Coldcreek in Book Two of the Coldcreek Series, CONTROL YOU.**

Paige Jacobs wants what every girl craves...to be loved. So when her current boyfriend goes from slightly jealous to stalkerish, Paige makes excuses. She isn't that girl and Craig isn't one of those guys. Things are fine until the moment a dark-haired, tattooed hottie with a snarky mouth walks into her life and tells her she deserves better.

Cameron Green has always been the guy bad girls can't get enough of and all the good girls want to tame. He's lived a lavish lifestyle filled with drugs, women, and alcohol. Now Cameron isn't sure how to dampen the longing for something more since coming out of his drug-induced haze. But when he meets a doe-eyed girl who gets past his walls like no other, everything clicks into place.

Together the two learn there are emotions that hold within them all the power to control you...

AVAILABLE NOW

# Acknowledgments

Thank you to my family for their love and support during the writing process of _Break You_. You all mean the world to me.

Thank you to Alyssa Rose Ivy for reading _Break You_ in its earliest form and telling me how much you adored the characters. Your praise for this novel meant more to me than I can ever put into words.

Thank you to Bethany Lopez for agreeing to beta for me. I'm so glad you enjoyed the story.

Thank you to all the lovely ladies in Story 4 Story. You guys make this journey that much more fun!

Thank you to Kristina Circelli for her editing services, Stephanie Parent for her proofreading services, Stephanie of Once Upon A Time Covers for creating the stellar cover, and the wonderful Kelsey of K. Keeton Designs for the amazing photo of the couple that fit Blaire and Jason to a T for me.

And as always thank YOU, dear readers! I hope you enjoyed reading Blaire and Jason's story as much as I enjoyed writing it.

# About the Author

Jennifer Snyder lives in North Carolina where she spends most of her time writing New Adult and Young Adult Fiction, reading, and struggling to stay on top of housework. She is a tea lover with an obsession for Post-it notes and smooth writing pens. Jennifer lives with her husband and two children, who endure listening to songs that spur inspiration on repeat and tolerate her love for all paranormal, teenage-targeted TV shows.

To get an email whenever Jennifer releases a new title, sign up for her newsletter at https://jennifersnyderbooks.com/want-the-latest/. It's full of fun and freebies sent right to your inbox!

_Find Jennifer Online!_

jennifersnyderbooks.com/

jennifersnyder04@gmail.com

  Facebook

  Twitter

  Instagram
