Maisey
You know it’s been a day when facing freezing-cold water from a garden hose isn’t the worst of it.
But having Flint Jackson being the man about to spray me down is pretty damn close.
Much as I want to dislike him, I can’t. And not disliking him makes me like him in ways I have no business liking him. I need to findme, not the first available man who doesn’t hate me.
Anymore.
“How was the soccer game?” I ask Flint while he screws the hose onto the faucet on the side of my house.
We’re standing between an empty flower bed and a dead boxwood. Legit didn’t know you could kill those things, but I guess Uncle Tony had to havesomeweaknesses. I’m covered in drying mud. I have once again ruined my teenager’s life—but at least I know she doesn’t want me to die—and I’d like nothing more than to pretend Flintisthat old man I always thought he was on the occasions Uncle Tony would mention him.
Flint shoots me a look that I like to call hisWhat the hell is wrong with you?look. Dean would regularly ask me what the hell was wrong with me. Once I realized the biggest thing wrong with me was that Iwas married to a man who thought there was something wrong with me, it was damn easy to figure out what I needed to do to solve my problem, even if executing that plan was one of the hardest things I’ve done in my life.
So if I lump Flint Jackson into the category of men who will never be satisfied with who I am, it’s much easier to tolerate this unwelcome attraction.
One of my friends who’s a therapist says it’s self-protection.
I say I really don’t want to look deeper than that until I know who I am and am safely on the path to working for what I want.
“We won,” Flint says abruptly. “What happened toyou?”
“It’s not important. Did Junie score?”
There’s thatYou are not rightlook again. “Game-winning goal.”
“Dammit.”
He sighs.
“I don’t mean dammit that she did well. I’mthrilledthat she did well. I’m disappointed that I wasn’t there for her.Especiallyfor this game. That’s all that meant.”
“I know.”
“You know?” Translation:you’ve noticed me and think there are parts of me that are worthy? Squee!
Damn right he did. We’re hot,my vagina reminds me.
He finishes attaching the hose and cranks the handle. “Haven’t missed any other games, have you?”
Stop being a ball of hormones,I order myself when I want to squeal in my head that he has noticed I’ve been there, as if I haven’t made an effort to at least say hi and compliment him on his coaching every single game.Concentrate on Junie.“I worry about her. I know moving during high school is hard. And I missed too many games the past three years, so—aaaaaaahhh!”
The wave of cold water shoots out of the end of the hose and smacks me square in the nipple.
He jerks the hose away from my body. “Shouldn’t have come out that fast,” he mutters.
“Seems to be a theme around this place,” I say around gasps for breath.
I get another look.
This one clearly saysKeep talking.
Right.
People who arrive at your house when you’re covered in mud and who saw the bear running away will have some questions.
“It’s really not an interesting story,” I tell him.
