Page 62 of Midnight Ink

Yes he is. “Ask away.”

He rests on the putter like it’s a cane. “How deep can we go?”

My instinct is to tell him not too deep. While this trip was about Maddox in the beginning, somehow without meaning to it’s become about us instead.

While he may not feel the same way, I still want to move forward. I want to be out of this cage grief has built around me.

I want to be happy again.

And I’m the happiest when I’m with you, Jules.

So I level a look at him and drink in the features of his handsome face. “As deep as you want, Jules.” I smile softly. “Nothing off limits.”

I watch his throat work with a swallow. “Same.” He thinks for a moment. “Have you had any other boyfriends besides Maddox? I mean like, before and after.”

I expected something like this, but it still hurts.

“No,” I say. “I mean, I’ve tried to hook up with other people, but it never works out.” I place my glowing pink ball down. “He was my first boyfriend. He’s the only person I’ve ever really been with. At first, I didn’t even want to be with him. I didn’t think he really wanted to be with me. I thought he just liked teasing me.”

Julian watches me closely.

“He was a talker,” I continue. “He liked to push buttons. Especially mine. I thought he was just talking.” I let out a quiet laugh. “Turns out he really loved me.”

“You said you’ve tried?”

I think about whether I want to answer. It was only twice and both times were humiliating. One time was in a bar bathroom. I couldn’t go through with it. I felt my lungs tighten and it was all wrong. I just wanted to get it over with. Take that leap and get my shit together. I ran out instead.

The other time was with a guy I’d been talking to. I liked him well enough. He was sweet, but when it came down to it, it just felt all wrong. When he put his hands on me I just couldn’t. That was years ago, but I’ve been too busy lately.

And lately, I’ve only had one person on my mind.

“That’s another question,” I say instead. “You’ll have to keep being impressive.”

When I miss my first shot, he laughs, stepping a bit closer to me, invading my space and my senses a little. I can smell him. Woodsy soap and something warm like cinnamon or vanilla. “You’re overthinking.”

“I’m not athletic.”

“I don’t think this requires athleticism.” He laughs.

My heart is pounding so hard, I’m not sure why. The stakes could not be lower right now. I want to get it in. I try again, focus on the tiny opening and swing. My ball drops in and I turn to look at him. There’s something I’ve always wanted to ask. Something he rarely talks about. Our storm non-date is the first time he’s really opened up about her.

“Can you tell me more about your mom?”

His expression falls instantly. I regret it, but he nods slowly, rubbing his fingers through his locs. “What do you want to know?”

“Whatever you want to tell me.” I don’t want to make him uncomfortable, but I want to give his grief space too if he wants it. “I talk about Maddox a lot. I don’t want to take up all the space. Your grief matters too.”

“Okay.” He exhales. “She was the best person in the world.” A soft laugh leaves his lips. “She was always on me.”

“You worked that corporate job because of her, right?”

He nods. “It was just us growing up. She worked nights, slept through the day while I was at school. Everything she did was for me.” His voice tightens. “I wanted her to retire. That was the plan, so I worked my ass off at a job I hated. I made a lot of money, though, and for a while that’s all that mattered.”

I step closer to him.

“She got sick,” he continues.

I know bits and pieces of this story from what he’s told me, but I don’t want to stop him. I want him to give me his pain. He’s carried mine for years.