Page 72 of One Wild Wish

My ears burned. I was humiliated at how desperate I was to hear Jimmy’s answer, that I was still eavesdropping.

“No. But I will. Tonight. I’ve been scared she’d freak out, but she needs to know.”

My mind spun, attempting to piece together the meaning behind his words, but standing in the shadows felt as wrong as what George had done—lurking around, hoping for information.

I wiped my damp palms on my shorts, then shoved the door fully open. “What do I need to know?” I forced brightness into my voice.

Jimmy was downing a Gatorade and stopped mid-swallow. He and Owen shared a look, probably wondering what I’d overheard. Too much and not enough.

Even though I harbored a secret big enough to fill the Pentagon, and he clearly had one of his own, I couldn’t help but look. And look. Jimmy’s brow was slick with sweat. He’d tossed his shirt on the couch, and his workout shorts hung low on his hips. His chest and abs rippled with his deep breaths. If Owen weren’t here, if our lives hadn’t gotten irrevocably complicated, I’d lick a path over Jimmy’s pierced nipples and down his happy trail, not stopping until he was hard and in my mouth.

But Owen was here, and there was something Jimmy hadn’t shared with me. Something important enough that he was scared.

One foot on his soccer ball, Owen spun to offer his hand, but he pulled it back. “I’m Owen, but I doubt you want to touch my sweaty hand.”

Mine was damp, too, from nerves, not exertion. “We can save that for next time, but it’s great to finally meet you. How’s the move been?”

“Can’t complain. Things are more laid back than D.C., which is nice, and I’m volunteering on a Habitat for Humanity project.” He was handsome—tall and lean and fit, the type of man I would have imagined for myself, before Jimmy. My gaze fell back to my bad boy, the only guy for me. His strong jaw pulsed, wariness in his wide stance. Unusual for him. Everything about this situation was off, setting alarm bells ringing in my head. My stomach didn’t just lurch. It dropped to my feet.

Jimmy clapped Owen’s shoulder. “Thanks for the game. Next time I’ll kick your ass.”

Taking the cue, Owen picked up his ball. “Not in this lifetime.” He said a final farewell, leaving Jimmy and me alone, facing off.

I waited on his confession, while he was unaware I was hiding the tiny, unimportant, miniscule fact that I’d been hanging out with his father for weeks and had just had a conversation with his mother. Kill me now. Yesterday I’d been on cloud nine, everything in my life falling into place. Now I was just falling.

Still, I couldn’t ignore the tightness on Jimmy’s face, or the fact that he was scared I’d freak out. Words didn’t get more ominous than that.

Practically holding my breath, I asked, “What haven’t you told me?”