“She acts like I’m never there. Like I’m so far detached from the two of them, when everything I’m doing is for them.”
A frown tugs my lips downward. “I know.” I pause, swallowing roughly. “Maybe we shouldn’t do this. We can put it on hold and revisit the idea down the road.”
Harrison sits up straighter in his seat as he levels his gaze with mine. “No.” The muscle in his jaw tightens, his blue eyes latching onto mine. “I need this.”
If their relationship is already circling the drain, and Erin is unhappy about this entire situation, how is it going to fix them?
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” he says firmly, without any hesitation. “I can’t keep working a job that’s draining me. If I have to spend hours pouring myself into something, I need it to be something I’m passionate about. If Erin can’t see that, then there was no chance of changing her mind from the start.”
Chewing on the inside of my cheek, I nod in understanding. Harrison has expressed feeling so unfulfilled before. If this is what he needs, I can’t fault him for that—not when I know there’s nothing else I’d rather do, too, now that playing hockey is no longer an option.
“Okay.” I lift my drink, taking another sip. “I just don’t want you to make the wrong choice here. I don’t want this to be something you regret too.”
Harrison snorts. “My life is already a shit storm. The only way to get to the other side is to go through it.” He lets out aharsh laugh, shaking his head before running a hand through his dirty blond hair. “I have plenty of regrets but I know this won’t be one.” He sighs, his expression softening to something that resembles vulnerability. “What is meant to be will always be, and sometimes you just have to stop fighting against the inevitable.”
Harrison and I finish dinner before exiting the diner together. He gives me a parting wave before heading in the opposite direction to his SUV.
Unbuttoning the sleeves of my dress shirt, I carefully roll them up my forearms before shoving my hand into the front pocket of my slacks for my keys. I glance to either side of the empty street out of habit as I step off the curb. My feet hit the street, but I pause, my attention captured by lights on in a storefront down the row of shops. Without seeing the sign out front, I know exactly which one it is.
Willow’s store.
It’s late and I should get home. I have to be up early since Harrison and I are meeting with the roofers in the morning.
Something tugs on me, like there’s a string tethered to the center of my chest. Slipping my keys back into my pocket, I walk away from my truck. In just a couple of strides, I’m breaking out into a jog to cross the street, heading in her direction.
I’m slightly breathless as I reach the front of the store and pause outside. There she is, just past the glass. She’s standing on the far side of the store where there are now wooden shelving units lining the walls. Guilt strikes my chest. She must have put them together without me.
Her black leggings hug her curves and she lifts up onto her tip toes, her cropped sweater lifting, showing a sliver of her thinabdomen as she slides a bottle of syrup onto the shelf. My throat bobs as I swallow hard and rake my hand through my hair.
You can still walk away, Jace.
Youshouldwalk away.
My heart pounds harder in my chest as I let my hand fall away from my tousled hair. Willow isn’t expecting me tonight, so there’s no reason for me to be here. It’s not too late. We can just pretend that kiss never happened and continue on in life. Then I won’t have to worry about telling her brother about it or the fact that I might fail her, just like I have failed everyone else.
My fingers flex, the muscles in my palm twitching. Willow lifts up on her toes again, reaching as high as she can to push one of the bottles back. She pushes it too hard and it topples over, knocking another one backward.
Fuck it.
Startling her is not my goal, but when I open the door and the bell dings, Willow gasps. Her eyes are wide as she drops down onto her flat feet, but as she does, her hand catches on a row of bottles. One falls down onto the floor, the glass immediately shattering around her as two others break on the shelf.
“Oh shit!” she exclaims, her face scrunching up as her eyelids flutter shut and she sighs deeply. “Well, this isn’t ideal.”
Fuck me.
“Don’t move,” I tell her as I quickly close the distance between us. I stop two feet away from her to assess the glass and syrup all along the floor. “I don’t want you to step on any glass.”
She bends her knees, like she’s about to crouch down. “I’m fine, Ja—” she starts, shaking her head as her eyes meet mine, but I interject before she gets my name out.
“No, don’t.”
Her eyebrows tug together as she freezes in place. Straightening her legs, she slowly stands upright again.
“I’ll clean it up.”
Her throat bobs and, for once, she doesn’t argue. “Okay.”
