“I can’t keep living with my mom.”
“And nothing of value was learned from this experience.” Hannah sighs.
“I’m not”—I wipe my nose—“actually going to fall in love with the guy. I’m going to straight-up tell him it’s okay if he cheats or whatever. I just need a place to crash. I’ll be a pretty good starter wife.”
“Mmm, we might be a little too old for that… Okay, okay!” Hannah pets my tangled hair as I start sobbing again.
“I’m old.” I sob. “I’ve wasted my youth.”
“Cupcake, I told you, you can’t keep crying around me. It makes me crazy.”
A big furry head bumps my knee.
“McCarthy?”
I look up at him through tear-stained eyelashes then groan, burying my head in my hands. “No, you can’t be here.”
He looks good in the canvas work pants, the boots, the gloves, the aviator sunglasses, and the dirt streaked on him.
Meanwhile, I look like I’ve been sleeping outside for a week.
“You found her.” Zephyr lopes up, barefoot, and with a big straw hat on his head. “Blessed be, Hannah.”
My friend returns the bow.
“Do you think you could come help show these new volunteers how to store the dog food?” Zephyr asks.
“Why… yes…” Hannah nods knowingly.
“Are you kidding me? Don’t leave me alone with him!” I shriek.
McCarthy grabs my hands, my stained pink rubber gloves in his canvas work gloves. “Jenna, please. Just give me five minutes.” He props the sunglasses up on his head.
Hannah and Zephyr are already sneaking off.
Truman’s bouncing around, trying to sniff the other dog.
“Truman, leave him alone. Wait, oh my gosh! Is that Buddy?” I bend down to pet the brown-and-white dog.
He gives a happy woof.
There’s a softness I’ve never seen in McCarthy as he crouches down and gently strokes the dog’s graying ears.
He looks at me, and his gray eyes look almost blue in the sunlight. “I wanted to say, Jenna—”
“I thought you were in jail.” I blurt it out just to have something to say, so I don’t have to hear him tell me he’s sorry and he loves me and I don’t have to hear myself say it’s okay, I will take any and all terrible behavior from him because I have no sense of self-respect.
McCarthy looks down. “They let me out. Community service. Also can’t drive for years. Not that it matters. Salinger took all my cars and my bike.”
I wince. “You didn’t have to take the fall. It was my fault.”
McCarthy reaches out and trails his gloved hand down my cheek to cup my jaw. “I told you, you’re mine. I’ll do anything to protect you. I couldn’t survive it if anything happened to you.” McCarthy’s mouth quirks. “Besides, a girl who snorts cupcake sprinkles as a coping mechanism isn’t going to survive in prison.”
“Honestly, jail might be preferable to living with my mom.”
“You could…”
I know he’s about to say “come home to me.”
