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“He’s not?” My face fell. “Oh,” I mumbled as realization dawned on me. He was out. Probably with her.
I turned to leave, but Dylan called, “Wait!”
I stopped with my back to him. I didn’t want him to see me break down.
“You really fucked him up,” Dylan whispered and I heard his footsteps approach me
on the walkway. His hand came down on my shoulder and he turned me around. “I’ve never seen Jude like that before. You broke his heart.”
My eyes closed as pain lanced my body. “I saw them kissing and…and…I thought he didn’t want me anymore.”
“I know what you saw,” Dylan said. When my eyes widened with surprise, he added, “Yeah, he told me. He also told me she kissed him, which I’m sure he told you,” Dylan crossed his arms over his chest. “Jude’s not a liar,” he stated. “He wouldn’t play you like that.”
“I know.” My voice came out as a squeak. “I fucked up, okay? I used that kiss as an excuse to push him away because what I feel for him is so powerful that it scares me more than I’d care to admit. I love him, Dylan, I really do. With all my heart and soul.”
Dylan’s jaw clenched and he looked away. “I’m sorry for being a jerk,” he took a step back. “But I’ve hated seeing my best friend so fucked up over you. That’s not him.”
“I understand,” I whispered and started heading towards my car once more.
“He’s at his grandpa’s!” Dylan yelled, surprising me.
I closed the passenger door where I’d just set the cake down and turned to face Dylan where he stood just outside the door to the townhouse.
“He’s at his grandpa’s,” he repeated when he knew he had my attention.
I nodded my head in thanks and circled around to the driver’s side.
I was a bit nervous that I might get lost on the way to his grandpa’s since it was hidden away and down an old country road.
But I knew if I didn’t go to him now I never would.
I paid careful attention to everything I passed and crossed my fingers that I turned onto the right road.
I let out a sigh of relief when I spotted Seraphina grazing in the distance.
My heart fluttered in my throat.
Close.
So. Close.
I tried to mentally prepare myself to see him. Twelve days felt more like twelve years.
When the trees parted and the road opened up, the house came into view.
Jude was out front, up on a ladder painting the siding. It looked like he’d been working on the house. The steps were no longer leaning and since most of the house was freshly painted it looked fresh and new. He’d even fixed some of the broken shutters.
He heard my car approach and turned his head.
The ladder swayed as surprise hit him when he recognized my car.
He put the paintbrush on the top rung of the ladder and scrambled down.
He lifted his hands in front of his face to shield his eyes from the sun. As I got out of the car I could see his brows furrowed together.
I stood for a moment, just staring at him so I could soak him in.
His dark hair was damp with sweat and the white sleeveless shirt he wore clung to his chest and exposed his impressive arms. His jeans hung low on his hips, the bottoms rolled up. Paint stained their blue surface.
