I can’t say she’s not interested, because I can feel the tension when we’re together, but it’s complicated.
I hate that it’s complicated.
Shaking my head, I yank on the door handle and follow her lead, even though she’s already passing through the front door, clearly racing away from me. I don’t know how much longer I can keep pretending she’s just my best friend’s little sister.
I don’t know how to explain what she means to me.
It’s just …
She’s meant to be mine.
When I was little, along with all the toys I wanted, I put her on my Christmas list every year. I didn’t make it obvious, because my mom would see it, and she’d be all weird. I developed a code that only Santa would know, because he reads minds like that. It was a tree stump with the words “Always July” carved in it. My mom thought I just hated winter, and I was asking for summer year-round. It was the perfect code. Obviously, I don’t believe Santa can help me with this anymore. My heart throbs in my chest, so hard I don’t doubt it’s bruising.
She’s always been the queen of my heart.
Lottie deserves so much better than Bow Tie. She actually deserves someone so much better thanme. Her mom has made that clear many times over the years, and maybe that’s part of the reason she keeps her distance from me. It has to be. I’m not sure why Senator Halloway has it out for me. Sure, I’m welcome in their home, but there is always a clear boundary with Lottie; I’m Ham’s friend, and that’s where it stops. I’m not good enoughto date her daughter. “Lottie is a political princess who doesn’t date hockey players.” She actually said that once out loud at the dinner table when they were talking about who was taking Lottie to prom. Ham suggested going with me as a friend since she didn’t have a date. Her mom’s disapproval is clearly one of the main reasons I’ve never gone for it, but if she’s going to waste her time with losers like Bow Tie …
She needs to know she’s better than him. She’s honestly too good for most guys. She’s so pure and sweet. The thought of anyone touching her makes my blood boil. I roll my hands into the tightest fists. I’m not going to beg. That’s not my style, but she’s clearly holding back, because she sees something in me that’s not good enough too. Maybe her mom has convinced her? My stomach wrenches at the thought.
Something changed this last year; she’s not who she used to be.
Lottie puts up a guard, but it’s not a good one because she dropped it a little when we were in the car. I saw the way she looked at me for just a moment. I know deep down she has to want this too. She’s just fighting it because for some reason she doesn’t think I’m good enough.Yet.
That’s it. I thrust my jaw forward and clench it, resisting the urge to whoop out loud. Raising my gaze to the heavens, calling God to be my witness, I vow, “I’m going to be good enough. I’ll become the best man—one she will notice. One her mom can’t ignore. One who has earned the respect of everyone. One who makes me worthy of loving…a queen.”
two
Lottie Halloway
Daylightburststhroughthepicture window, heating the side of my face like it’s trying to burn away every secret from last night. I blink awake, discovering I’m lying on the den couch. Apparently, I face-planted here instead of going to my room. Groaning, I remember last night all too well. My mom forced me to take her new campaign manager out to dinner, to entertain him while he’s here.
Everything was fine-ish until Ty came blazing over like a hot July storm cloud—emphasis on the hot part. I wasn’t doing anything wrong, but his presence took me by surprise. I hadn’t expected to be chastised by him. He was way too protective of me. Even when he wasn’t talking to me, I felt his watchful gazefrom the pool tables. It did something to me. Heat washes over my cheeks, and I have to fan myself just from the memory.
Pulling myself to a seated position, I rub a palm over my forehead. My head isn’t pounding, but my thoughts are, as I instantly get a tangled replay of Ty’s face in the car.
With one side of his face bathed in dark shadows, he had this whole dark-vibe thing that made him look insanely handsome—like a bad boy we both know he could never be. When he leaned in, eyes wild, to kiss me, I just gasped. We’ve been alone hundreds of times over the years, but he’s never made a single pass at me before.
Not. One. Single. Time.
Not that I didn’t want him to.
Or not that I hadn’t imagined it.
Man, I’ve dreamed of that moment so many times.
I wasn’t prepared for the change in his demeanor. Rubbing my hand on my forehead, I replay that gasp and how inexperienced I must have looked. I didn’t even know I made any sound until I saw the look of disappointment in his eyes, like I’d pushed a knife into his chest. After that, I didn’t know what to do.
So I fled.
So childish.
I shake my head as I push all the memories out. Last night was just an all-around, too-much-to-even-think-about night because…because my heart just can’t go there.
Voices drift in from the kitchen. Ham’s hoarse morning voice and Ty’s lower one that always winds my stomach into twisting knots. It’s no different this morning.
And someone else’s. A woman I can’t make out. What time is it? I glance around the room, even though I know there’s no clock. Then, like I suddenly remember I have a phone, my gaze drops to the floor where it landed last night. I grapple for it and check the time. I don’t miss the five unread text messages fromBrett when I see it’s after nine. Wow. I skip the messages from Brett. For now.
Or maybe forever.
