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“I doubt he’d even be interested in me, Brielle. A guy like Jack can have any woman he wants.”
Brielle waved her hand dismissively.
"Nah, I don't believe that. Maya, you’re a hottie and successful in your own right. Jack would be an idiot not to pursue things with you. I mean, he was an idiot way back then, too. But he’s surely grown up, right?”
I shook my head, laughing. It was a nice thought, but too many things had passed. Too much went unsaid.
But Brielle always knew how to make me feel better and I already felt a little lighter.
“Okay, I will take your first piece of advice and at least talk to Jack. I’ll nip this all in the bud so I can stop thinking about him.”
“Well, that’s less than ideal, but a good idea all the same. You go get ‘em, girl.”
I stood up and chuckled to myself as I walked back to my office, determined to figure out how I’d talk to Jack.
Chapter 8
Jack
Afewdaysaftergetting back home to Denver, I could no longer resist the overwhelmingneedto be near Maya. I missed her. I missed her warmth and I missed the light she brought to my life up at the cabin.
Through some light sleuthing–it had been too easy–my assistant managed to find her home address. I had thought about going to see her at work, but that felt weird since she was working on the story. I was looking to express my feelings for her, not get her in trouble.
I was a little surprised to learn that she lived in the same suburban town she had grown up in and, if I wasn’t mistaken from the address, didn’t live far from her parents. Part of me had thought she’d carved some glamorous downtown city life for herself. But it also seemed right. Maya liked the quiet.
After clearing my schedule for the afternoon, I was in my car in the building’s parking garage, throwing it into gear. If I stopped to think about things too long, I was afraid I’d chicken out.
Buildings flew past, and it was way too soon that I was pulling off at her highway exit. I made my way down the main road, palms slick with sweat against the leather of the steering wheel. My stomach was filled with a swarm of butterflies.
I was nervous, excited, and afraid all at the same time, but I knew deep down that I had to follow through with my plan.
My GPS told me I had arrived at Maya’s house and I pulled over. It was a small dark-blue two-story house with a tidy lawn in front that seemed to have a garden that I was sure bloomed brilliantly in the warmer months. A cold breeze shook the bare branches of a large tree in the yard.
The neighborhood and house were quiet and I started to doubt my timing but I forced myself out of the car and walked up to the front door, immediately ringing the doorbell.
My heart was pounding faster and faster as I waited for a response. Then, the door swung open, and there she was. Maya stood before me, looking more beautiful than ever. Her long, dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she wore jeans and a simple cobalt blue long-sleeve T-shirt that hugged her curves in all the right places.
For a second, she looked stunned, before recovering and letting a smile spread across her face and her eyes light up.
"Jack," she said, shaking her head in confusion. "What are you doing here?"
I swallowed hard.
“Maya,” I rasped, clearing my throat. “Can we talk?”
She gazed at me briefly, her eyes scanning mine, before moving to the side and gesturing for me to enter.
Beyond the small entry was the living room, and it was bursting with everything Maya. It was warm and cozy, but filled with brightness and color.
Maya gestured to the couch, and I sank into it, glad to have something support my weight as I contemplated my words.
“What’s going on, Jack?” Maya sat in the chair opposite the couch.
I took a deep breath and looked into her confused, golden eyes.
“Maya. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. Truthfully, I never thought I could ever feel like this about anyone again, but here you are. I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. I can’t focus at work. All I can think about, Maya, is you. All I see are your golden brown eyes. My skin still remembers the feel of your fingertips. And my brain yells at me every day for how I treated you all those years ago.”
My breaths were coming quickly, in short pants.
