Polly was quiet as Joel drove them back to her house. Her mother, on the other hand, filled every second of silence. It was actually pretty impressive that, even while drunk, she could hold such an extensive conversation. Joel couldn’t make out everything she said because a lot of the words slurred together, but for the most part, she raved about the music and the food and the decorations.
When they reached Polly’s house, he helped Olivia out of the car. She leaned into him as Polly stormed forward and unlocked the door.
Olivia frowned up at him. “Why are you so handsome?”
“Good genetics?”
“No. I think it’s because you’re nice. Only nice guys are handsome.”
“I don’t know. I’ve met some pretty handsome terrorists.”
She threw her head back and laughed.
Polly unlocked the door.
“Polly needs a nice guy,” Olivia sighed, once she’d sobered.
“I can hear you,” Polly called over her shoulder as she stepped inside.
“Why is that a bad thing? Joel’s handsome and nice, and you need both those things.”
“I don’tneedany guy, and I certainly don’t need my mothertellingguys that I need them.”
Olivia grinned. “This isn’t just any guy, Polly. It’s Joel. The first man to break through that icy?—”
“Okay.” Polly grabbed her mother from Joel’s arm. “Time for bed. Thank you for your help, Joel. I’ll take it from here.”
Then they disappeared down the hall, out of sight. But if she thought he was leaving that easily, she couldn’t be more wrong.
21
Her mother was asleep. Finally…peace and quiet. The woman hadn’t stopped talking about what Polly “needed” just because Joel had left. No. She’d gone on and on about how essential it was for Polly to have a man like him. How Polly “needed” to let him in, or she’d end up sad and alone and full of regrets.
She wasn’t sad or alone. She was a business owner. She had thebestbest friend a girl could ask for. She was happy. And independent.
And she did notneedJoel Dawson.
Her feet slammed to a stop in her bedroom doorway. “You’re still here.”
Not justhere—in her bedroom. Joel stood staring at the photo of her and Maggie on the dresser. It was actually insane that just standing there, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, he had such an unbelievable impact on her body. Racing heart. Sweaty palms. Chills down her spine.
He set the photo down and turned to her. “I’m still here.”
“Why?”
“I couldn’t leave before knowing you were okay.”
“I attended a divorce party for my mother who’s on her fifth marriage and hasn’t even divorced the guy yet.ThenI caught her sneaking out like a teenager to do God knows what with him behind a tree. Oh, and he could be a serial killer. I’m not really sureokayis the right word for what I’m feeling.”
A ghost of a smile curved his lips. But this wasn’t funny. And if it was, it was the sad kind of funny. The kind that could make you cry in self-pity mid-sentence.
“Maybe you need to stop saving her,” he said quietly.
“Iabsolutelyneed to stop saving her. But I’ve got a problem.” She crossed to her bed and perched on the end to toe off her shoes, her words coming out fast and running into each other. “I have this need to bail her out every time her life gets messy. And then I absorb it all. I let her sadness sink beneath my skin and affect and change me and make me angry. Angry at her and men and the world. Then I start making promises to myself. That I won’t be like her. That I’ll never need a man like she does. And I was good at that for a while. It was easy. Untilyouwaltzed into my life, Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome. It doesn’t help that you’re just always there, messaging and showing up at divorce parties and cupping my cheek with your massive, beautiful, veiny hands and?—”
“Hey.” Joel knelt in front of her, his palms closing over her knees. “Can I tell you something?”
No. Definitely not. It would be far safer if he moved away. Far, far away. Like the other side of the house. He smelled too good and his palms were bleeding too much warmth into her body.
