Gin Fling (Bootleg Springs #5) - Lucy Score Page 0,77

them. For instance, if I’d been more assertive about seducing you, you wouldn’t have dragged your feet for so damn long.”

“You said ‘damn.’”

“You’re damn right I did.” My temper was a hibernating dragon. It rarely reared its fiery head, but when it did, watch out. “That’s how mad I am right now. What was GT’s reasoning for telling you? Worrying that I couldn’t take care of myself? Hoping you’ll step up to be my new babysitter?”

“I realize you’re the one with a psychology degree and an impending doctorate in social work, so I probably don’t need to point out the fact that your anger seems a little reactionary, like I just pushed a button or something.”

Gritting my teeth, I let out a throaty grumble. The man had a point. It wasn’t exactly his fault that he’d stumbled across the one thing guaranteed to piss me off. “You want to know why I didn’t tell my family about this whole ankylosing spondylitis thing?”

“Yes, unless that’s a separate conversation. And then I’d like to finish this one first.”

“When I was attacked, they descended on me. They moved into my apartment. They cooked my meals, did my grocery shopping, drove me to doctor’s appointments. It was like I was a kid again. Like they didn’t trust me to handle anything on my own. You know what happened when GT blew out his knee?” I asked.

“What?”

“Sure, Mom and Dad flew out for his surgery. But they didn’t smother him to death. They even stayed in a hotel. Treated it like a visit. Because he wasn’t me.”

Jonah smirked.

“What?” I demanded. “What’s that look for?”

“You’re upset because you got more attention than your brother. That your parents love you so much they can’t help but worry about you after you were attacked and stabbed.” The easiness went out of him, and he was suddenly gripping the wheel as if he’d like to break it in half. “Injuring your knee on a football field and almost getting killed are two entirely different things. And you are more than smart enough to know that!”

I knew he had a point. I’d made the same point to myself on several occasions. But sometimes it didn’t stop the rush of emotions.

“You know what I think?”

“I’m sure you’ll tell me anyway.”

Even angry, I was maybe the tiniest bit curious about what he thought.

“I think that attack made you doubt yourself. You went in there thinking you could handle it, and then you couldn’t contain the situation. You couldn’t fix it. And that broke a piece off you. It’s a piece that gets broken off everyone. But you’re using it to think you can’t do other things.”

“Like what?”

“Like deal with your disease. Like finish a triathlon. Like write your goddamn dissertation. You think if you just put everything off by getting more information, doing more research, that you’ll never have to actually see something through. And if you don’t finish something, you won’t be disappointed in yourself again.”

“You know what I think about that, Jonah Bodine?” My voice was entering the Billy Ray howling octave.

“I live for your opinion,” he said sarcastically as he pulled into our driveway.

“You are absolutely, without a doubt, one hundred percent right.” Just like that, the anger burned itself out, leaving behind a lighter, brighter me.

Jonah cracked a grin.

“Have you ever thought about getting into counseling?” I asked.

He laughed. “I’m a personal trainer. It’s the professional equivalent of a bartender.”

“I don’t mean to say this in an offensive way,” I pre-empted. “But you are way more than just a pretty face and a six-pack. You are an excellent listener and keenly insightful. And I think I like your brain even more than I like your very nice body. To be clear, I like your body very, very much.”

“Sounds like I’m going to be a very memorable summer fling. Do you think you’ll tell your grandkids about the hot, smart guy who talked sense into you?”

“Come sit with Grandma, little Shelby the Third, and let me tell you all about the boy I fell for for a summer,” I said, affecting an elderly tone.

Jonah reached out, squeezed my knee. “I care about you, Shelby. Your family cares about you. That’s not a bad thing.”

“I feel like if they’re worrying about me, then I’m not proving that I can take care of myself,” I confessed.

“Families worry. Regardless of how well you can take care of yourself. And sometimes we all need a little help.”

I unsnapped my seatbelt. “Speaking of families,

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