way.
I’m tired and angry, and tired of being angry too. This isn’t what I wanted or planned. I wanted more. For me, that meant Jules. With my fingers pinching the bridge of my nose, I lean back against the kitchen wall.
Call it what you want. Out of everything in life, she’s the only thing I know I truly want. That should mean something.
I make my way upstairs, walking slowly and dreading another night alone in this empty house. It never bothered me much before, but I can’t fucking stand the silence now.
Someone knocks three times at the front door and I still with my hand on the banister.
I wait a moment, wondering who the fuck would be here this late at night, even though only one name comes to mind. I steel myself for the worst, thinking it’s my father. I can’t face him right now. Not after what he’s done and what I accused him of. It’s only after another three knocks that I force myself to face the consequences. I open the door with a swift pull, prepared to turn him away, but my voice is caught in my throat.
Jules’s baby blue eyes look at me with a mix of emotions. Fear, sorrow … hope. The chill of the wind spreads goosebumps along her arms and blows her long brunette hair off her shoulders. She looks to her left and then right, pulling her leather jacket tighter around her and taking a small step toward me.
“Mason,” she says and licks her lush lips, painted with that same color I’ve grown to expect from her. “I—” She stops to clear her throat and looks away again as I stand numb in the doorway.
Fate’s delivered her to me. I can’t let her go this time. I won’t.
“I was hoping we could talk?” Her voice is timid and her heels click on the cement porch as she shifts in place. Her tight blue jeans hug her curves, although the loose cream blouse beneath her jacket leaves much to the imagination. I know what’s under there, though.
I don’t say a word, too afraid of scaring her off. Instead I take a step to the side and open the door wider, waiting for her to walk in.
Her cheeks and the tip of her nose are a beautiful rosy red from the bite of the night air.
She hesitantly steps inside and looks around as if she hasn’t been here enough times to have the place memorized. I close the door and stare at the lock a moment too long before turning it.
“Mason, I’m sorry.” Jules’s voice calls to me as I turn around to face her. I watch her swallow and then bite down on her bottom lip. She’s worried and apologetic, but I don’t give a fuck about the past. I never did. I care about what she wants now.
“Why are you here, Jules?” I ask her in a deep voice. It’s rougher than I intended, but it’s all I can manage.
“I heard about what happened,” she says. She fidgets as she waits for my response, but I don’t give her one. I’m not interested in talking about anything but us. I don’t want to taint her with the bullshit. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry for hurting you,” she says in a tight voice full of agony.
“Is that all?” I say and it takes all the air I have in my lungs. Taking a step forward and closing the space between us, my heart thumps chaotically in my chest.
She twists her fingers around one another nervously. “I also,” she starts to say and then swallows. “I was wondering if you still … if you were interested …”
“In what?” My eagerness gets the best of me. Make this easy for me, Jules, and I’ll make everything right. I promise you, sweetheart, I’ll make it up to you.
“If you’d like to maybe go out again? If that’s what we were doing?” A nervous huff of a laugh accompanies her proposition. I stare at her a moment, thinking it’s just too good to be true. She came back to me. There’s a saying about that, but it’s not meant for real life. It’s not meant for men like me.
“If you still want me,” Jules adds, the raw vulnerability so thick in her voice.
“I never stopped wanting you,” I say, my voice barely a murmur. Her doe eyes never leave mine as I gently push her jacket off her shoulders. If she thinks I don’t