Luckily, Noah doesn’t live anywhere near here, which is a plus because the feelings he ignites inside me without even trying scares the crap out of me. No thanks. Love can wait. I’m a girl on a mission. Love is not part of the plan.
But maybe …
Just maybe …
I let myself entertain the maybes just for a second and wonder how I might find him or if I ever could …
Should I stalk him on social? Search all the Noah’s in the great state of Kentucky and see if he pops up. Social media has to be good for something right? After that, I can check into an institution and kiss any opportunity with him goodbye because that’s definitely crazy. Best to keep my distance and my sanity.
But maybe …
Smiling, I shake my head as I actually let myself consider this “maybe.” Butterflies flutter in my stomach as I wonder what I would even say?
“Um, Hi! Noah was it? Creepy bar stalker here from California! Um, how are ya?”
Or …
“Hey, Noah. It’s me, you know the girl you promised to show things to in the south. Things that would make me second guess any other plan I had in life? So, whatcha’ doing next week?”
Laughing, I have to admit as loony as it sounds, it’s actually kind of tempting.
But tempting is bad. Tempting means trouble. If he can tempt me so much just thinking about him, I wouldn’t stand a chance face to face. Distance, Eva. Distance. Keep your damn head straight.
I’m rattled out of my thoughts as my phone rings on the counter and makes me jump. Glancing at the caller ID, I see it’s my mother and roll my eyes.
“Hey, Mom,” I say as I reluctantly pick up my phone. Normally, I have a great relationship with my mother, though the holiday season turns her into Martha Stewart on crack. Everyone and everything has to be perfect, and I know this is just another one of those phone calls to discuss the upcoming festivities, as well as my need to be present at her dinner party later this evening.
I should have ignored the call and played it like I got home too late to attend. Silently chastising myself for not having this thought before I hit accept, I blame it on the wine as I wait to hear the rambling of the one and only Cynthia Monroe on the other end.
“Eva! Are you home yet? Please tell me you’re home,” my mother begins frantically interrogating me.
“Yes, Mother, I just walked in the door,” I snap.
“You just walked in the door? Good Lord, Eva! You need to get ready and go right back out the door again! The Roberts will be here at five! You know how I hate it when you’re late, Eva Anne Monroe!”
I know I’m in trouble. My full name only comes out when my mother wants to scold me—and this time, it’s for a crime I haven’t even committed yet!
“It’s fine, Mom. I’ll just come like I am. I was only driving all day—”
I try to argue, but my mother cuts me off. “No you most certainly will not,” she yells. “Trevor is in town visiting his parents. He is coming to dinner too. You need to be looking and acting your best. I want grandchildren before I’m ninety, Eva!”
And here we go again. It’s hysterical to me that before a woman is twenty-five, she’s supposed to focus on a career. Once she hits her mid to late twenties, most people look at her like she’s washed up and her prime is ticking by quickly.
“Mom! I already told you, this thing you think is going to happen one day between me and Trevor will never happen. Drop it already,” I hiss.
I cringe at the idea of Trevor and me actually ever having been an item.
The Roberts and my family grew up together. My older brother Michael is best friends with Trevor’s older brother. They did everything together as far back as I can remember, and Trevor always tagged along wherever the older boys went. Growing up, I thought it was just so he could act older. Now, I know it’s because he could be near me any chance he got.
Trevor’s the same age as me, and for a brief second, I gave into his schoolboy crush when we were sixteen. What started off as a wild and hot summer fling, I later totally regretted. I was young and lonely and knew his feelings ran way deeper than mine ever could.
I started the relationship thinking maybe my feelings would grow and change over time. Everyone likes a summer romance, right? I quickly realized that starting anything with Trevor Roberts was one of the worst mistakes of my life. At first, it was fun, new, and exciting, like when you’re climbing a roller coaster all the way to the top, thrilled at what might come next, only to soon be jerked and bumped around through one disaster after another.
The more he confessed his undying love for me, the more I regressed into a little hole I never wanted him to pull me out of. The more I pulled away, the angrier and more possessive he got. I left him at the end of summer with a broken heart that he obviously never recovered from.
My mother’s voice breaks me from my past. “If you two had the hots for each other once before, you can find a way to get the hots for each other again!”
I shudder from my mother’s use of the term “hots.”
