Page 37 of Hometown Lover

"Joanne, why are you avoiding him?" She asked. "I don't get it. What is it that you're rushing back to here?"

"My apartment, my career, my life," I said as I tried to make her see reason. "I can't just stay here."

"You mean the apartment you pay an outrageous amount for and you're never even home to live in that shoebox? You're always working. And that's another thing. I know you love kids, but you do not love being a nanny."

I pursed my lips. "That's not true. I do like being a nanny."

"No, you like working with kids. You like them, not their snooty parents or the bullshit they put you through. Stop lying to yourself. I've seen how stressed out you are after you've been stuck working for too long."

I frowned. Leslie had a point there. As much as I adored the kids that I watched, the rest of it was bullshit. Getting yelled at for stupid things, being pushed to work extra-long hours sometimes without even a heads up, dealing with adults that were more childish than their kids; all of it was a lot to deal with. I kept doing it because I liked their kids, but just thinking about Amber and the way she acted and was selfish made me want to walk away.

"Maybe you're right," I muttered.

"I'm more than right and you know it. Come on, girl, why would you want to come back here if you have a chance at a life you'll love there? And have you even told Peter how you feel?"

"I don't have feelings for him."

"BS," she snapped. "Don't make me come all the way there and stick my foot in your ass Joanne. If you didn't have feelings for him then you wouldn't be so upset. You need to talk to him."

"I doubt he wants to talk to me," I said quietly. "He told me I was selfish and then he stormed out. I'm pretty sure I killed any chance that I had with him."

"You don't know that until you try," she urged. "I want you to be happy and if that means you won't be coming back it sucks, but I get it. I've heard how upbeat you are since you've been there. You've been a completely different person. You're so cynical and closed off here. Why would you want to come back to that?"

I couldn't argue with her there. When I thought about Peter, that smile on his face and the way he held me, I felt that ache in my chest.

Oh shit… I love him.

It hit me so hard and fast that I could barely breathe, but I knew that it was true. I loved him.

And now it's too late.

"Oh my God, I screwed up," I groaned into the phone.

"It's never too late. Call him. Now."

I nodded and hung up the phone. I dialed Peter's number with bated breath and tried not to bubble over with excitement. I still hadn't decided what I was going to do, but I had to at least tell him. I had to do that much.

Chapter 16

Peter

I could not get Joanne out of my head.

Something was going on with her and I had no idea what to do about it. I didn't like feeling helpless. It set my teeth on edge and made me feel weird. I felt my phone as it vibrated in my pocket but I didn't want to even look at it. What was the point when I knew it wasn't Joanne on the other end? She'd already made things perfectly clear about where we stood.

Instead of wallowing in the house, I decided to get dressed and head out. There was a bar that I frequented that I loved. It had been the place where I'd found many a date for the night and maybe that was what I needed.

Bullshit. You want Joanne and you know it.

I pushed that thought aside. As much as I wanted her, she clearly didn't want me. What was I going to do? Drag her off caveman style and hide her away in my house forever? Yeah, that was never going to work. Ever.

I needed to get her out of my head.

The bar was kind of small and dark as hell as usual. The atmosphere was always comfortable though like you'd walked into an old friend’s house and they were ready to hang out with you and have a good stiff drink. Music played off in the corner as some local singer strummed her guitar. It made me relax slightly, but I still felt like every inch of me was on edge. I needed to get a drink into me as fast as possible.

I settled in at the bar. "Whiskey, neat."

The bartender nodded and grabbed the bottle for me. As she poured and placed the glass down, I thanked her and asked her to keep the tab open. I didn't know how long I was going to be there with a drink in my hand and I'd rather drop all my hard-earned cash all at once than think about it over and over again.

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