His shoulders relaxed as his grey eyes trailed over me. “Good. Definitely good.” His lips twitched into a small tentative smile, and he tilted his head toward me. “I like the hair.”
“You do?” I kicked up an amused eyebrow. “You used to love it long, Jameson Patrick.”
He shrugged as he sat on the deck chair next to mine, facing me. “What can I say? I like change.” He grinned. In a shocking move, he reached toward me, making me tense, but then he tucked a strand behind my ear. That one gentle touch sent shivers down my spine. And the way he looked at me, like he was seeing straight down to my soul, stirred up old butterflies below my belly button—butterflies that I had thought were long gone and dead forever.
“You kept off the weight, too,” he said, running his tongue over his teeth.
My guard slammed back up.
His jaw flexed. “Two hundred pounds of loser,” he said before taking a sip from his beer. “Freedom looks good on you, Al.” He gave me another grin. “It suits you.”
My eyes stung a little, because he was right. Iwasfree out here, and it did suit me. “Thank you.” I pulled my knees up to my chest and rested my chin against them to study him. “You seem different, too.”
A small blush crept up into his cheeks and his eyes darted away. “I can see your underwear, Al.”
A surprised laugh bubbled out of me. I still loved throwing him off balance, and I still loved his boy-ish blush. “Should I apologize?”
Licking his lips to stifle a laugh, he reached over and gently pulled my dress lower. The scrape of his skin against mine sent an electric shock to my core. His eyes locked on mine and he grinned, like he also enjoyed throwingmeoff balance.
“Different how?” he asked, taking a slow sip of his beer.
I studied him for a beat. “More relaxed. And I like the scruff.” Imotioned to his face. The last time I saw him, he still only had patchy facial hair. I took a small sip of the drink he handed me. I hadn't drank beer in a very long time. I secretly only drank it to remind myself of him, but I'd never tell him that. My ex drank only whiskey. I preferred the taste of beer. I preferred the taste of JP.
“Thanks. Not sure if I’m more relaxed or if I’m just tired,” he admitted with a chuckle as he stretched out his long legs on the deck chair.
“Of what?”
“Just…life.” He stared up at the inky night sky. “When we were young, I loved having a plan. I wanted to have plans for every single weekend. I wanted to go out, see everything, get as much in as possible. Now I find myself wanting to just…stay put.” He let out a little chuckle and pulled at the wrapper on his beer. “I want to settle down.”
I smirked. “Not me. I won’t ever,” I declared before gazing up at the stars.
I could feel his eyes on me in the dim light. “Because you don’t want to?”
“Not necessarily.” I twisted my lips in thought. “I’m afraid of settling into something that isn’t…right.”Again. I never wanted to feel trapped ever again. “Not worth the risk.” I shrugged. He knew what I was talking about.
“Ah.” He gave me a knowing look as he nodded. “So, you’ll never stop running, eh?”
“Nope. We can’t all be perfect like JP McQuaid,” I said, tipping my beer back for another sip. Just like when we were young, I found it hard to stop smiling in his presence. I loved talking to him. I loved just being near him. His presence made me feel lighter, like my younger, happier self. But I knew the more I talked to him, the more it would hurt to hear that he was off-limits. I had to rip off the band-aid.
I slid on my performance mask—the fake over-confident facade I used every time I strutted onto the ice for a show. “So, why are you here? You have a girlfriend or fiancée who’s gonna come scratch my eyes out? Am I interrupting a romantic getaway?” I wagged my eyebrows at him.
“Ah, Al…” He dropped his head forward and raked a hand over his short hair, making his impressive arm muscles move. “No, no girlfriend, or anything else.” His grey eyes met mine and they looked slightly pained. “I tried to come backstage to see you. They stopped me.”
“It’s not just you.” I shook my head. “It’s a precaution…in case he…” I stopped talking. Even saying it aloud made me paranoid. I never even used my ex’s name because it felt like a bad word. I gave JP a shrug.
“Good, I’m glad,” he said gently.
“You didn’t answer.” I stared at him, trying to read him. “Why are you here, JP?”
He went quiet for a minute. “Isn’t it time for us to get our happy ending?”
My heart wobbled in my chest, but I forced my face into a look of smooth indifference. “You’re barking up the wrong tree. I’m not like them,” I said, meaning our friends. They got their happy ending, but they were the exception in this world.
His face cracked a little, and I felt the sting of guilt for hurting him. “Why not?”
“Because.” I shrugged.
“Because you’re afraid?” he asked slowly.
