I’m giggling now. “Zion?”
They shake their heads yes in synchronicity. Prescott grins at me, happy to see my excitement. “Thought you’d like the idea of Utah.”
“I don’t think Knox will be able to make it this year. He has a summer tour he’s obligated to do.”
Dustin bumps my shoulder. “You still have us.”
Prescott places his elbows on the table and leans in, a serious look on his face. “How are things going between the two of you?”
I know his concern comes from a place of love and deep friendship. “We’re good. He understands my need to take things slow.”
“Rory, I love the guy. Knox is one of the good ones. But if you’re not ready or you’re not feeling it, it’s okay to step away and continue to be just friends.”
My brow turns down in a V and I bite the inside of my cheek. Luckily, Darla brings out our food, so I don’t have to answer him. Instead, I change the subject. “What’s going on at D & D?”
Dustin tries to mumble something past his mouthful of meatloaf. I swear the man has a bottomless pit for a stomach. “New drone project. That’s all I’m at liberty to say.”
They haven’t been able to tell me a lot of what they do at the company since most of the work is on projects contracted by the U.S. government. I do know, however, it involves computer programming and coding.
My phone chirps and I flip it over from where I placed it on top of the table when I sat down.
Knox: Open invite from Ryder to come over. Firepit and a baby.
I can’t help the laugh that tumbles out when I read firepit and a baby. It sounds like some sort of human sacrifice ritual will be happening. I turn my phone around so Dustin and Prescott can read it, and Dustin almost spits his food out before he starts choking, trying not to laugh.
Me: You really need to learn how to text better. No sacrificing babies to the fire gods.
Knox: Crap! I hate this autocorrect shit. Invited to hang out at Ryder’s. The baby is Marcus. No human sacrifices.
Me: I figured that out already, Sherlock. Let me ask the guys.
“Hey. You guys want to continue this powwow at Ryder and Elizabeth’s?”
“Sounds g—holy fuuuck,” Prescott wheezes, eyes bugging out, and face blanching white as snow.
I get out of the booth and reach for Prescott, thinking he may be choking or having a heart attack. Jesus, should I dial 911?
“Prescott, are you alright? Dustin, what should we do?”
Dustin won’t look at me or answer me. Why is he staring down at his lap and not helping?
Prescott grabs my arm in a death grip, and I become more panicked.
“Don’t turn around, Rory.”
That’s it. I’m calling an ambulance. “What are you talking about?” I’m saying as I ignore him and turn around.
Remember that hypothetical scab I was picking at earlier? Yeah, that fucker just ripped right off, leaving nothing but an open, bloody wound.
I always thought time standing still was a theatrical device used in movies or written in romance novels to heighten the reader’s awareness of the gravity of the scene. I just learned it’s real. Time stands still when I turn around and see the man standing not four feet from me. And not just time. My lungs stop working. My brain stops functioning. My heart, if I still had one, would have stopped beating, too.
“Hey, sunshine,” the man says, but my ears are buzzing with so much white noise, I can’t hear him.
God, he’s so much taller than I remember. And so much bigger. Those ocean-blue eyes that haunt my dreams at night are looking right at me. That mouth that would drive me senseless when he kissed me and had me begging for more is smiling at me. That silky, golden brown hair I could spend hours running my hands through is cut shorter than I remember.
“Jackson?”
My mind splinters into a complex fractal of repeating memories. Every image, every spoken word, every feeling, with JD front and center in each and every one. I stare at the boy who is clearly not a boy anymore. The boy-turned-man who disappeared and abandoned me. The one who ripped out my heart and took it with him, leaving me with a dead soul for the past five fucking years. The person who broke me. The man who now stands before me, holding my bleeding heart in his hands. Hands that I used to crave as they caressed and touched every inch of my body.
