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“No really…what? You’re looking at me like—”
“Like what?” he asks, his voice husky.
“Like… like you used to, I guess.”
A beat of silence fills the space between us.
“Maybe… I don’t know…” His voice is so deep and sincere that I can feel it resonate through my core. “I guess it’s been sort of a trip down memory lane, you showing up in town.”
My heart beat speeds up, even though I’m standing still.
He’s been reliving old memories, too. Of course he has. There are memories we share. Memories that only the two of us have. “Yeah, it has, hasn’t it?”
“Agoodtrip. Really good. I missed you. I’m really glad you’re here.”
A pleasant, tingling shiver races down my spine, but I don’t feel cold. I feel warm, like I’m standing near a ten-foot bonfire. I know that fire’s Parker. And he’s passing his happy glow to me, and I like the way it feels.
Here I was, thinking I was nothing to him. But he missed me.
“I’m glad I’m here, too,” I say, in total honesty.
It feels good not to twist my words to mold some far-off ideal for once. I spend so much of my time trying to make things sound the way I think they should sound. Like saying I’m fine when I’m not really fine. Saying I have things under control when the truth is I’m as at the mercy of chaos as the rest of the world.
Right now, standing here under a ceiling of stars, I don’t feel the need to lie to myself or anyone else.
I really am glad I’m here in Pines Peak. On this high school basketball court. Playing tennis with Parker.
Happiness bubbles up in me. When was the last time I felt this good? This free?
It’s been ages.
I’m not stressed, I’m not rushing to get anywhere. I’m here, andhereis exactly where I want to be. Where I need to be.
What an incredible feeling.
It won’t last, but for now. I might as well enjoy it.
I savor the deliciousness of it for another moment, and then focus back on the ball in my hand. “Ready?” I ask, as I toss the bar into the air. “Here it comes.”
Chapter12
Parker
Adorable.
Gemma Lafferty is adorable.
Her serve is straight out of a beginner’s tennis manual. Half the balls she hits arc up over the chain link fence we’re playing against. A dog will probably come by in the morning and help himself to a few new toys, because I’m not going out there to collect those stray balls tonight.
No way.
I want to stay right here on this make-shift court at Gemma’s side. Listening to her laugh and tease me, hearing her breathe hard after running for a ball. I love the way she swipes her bare forearm across her forehead, to get stray wisps of her brown hair from her eyes.
She sounded sincere, when she said she was glad to be here in Vermont. It’s good to hear her say something and mean it, for once.
No fluff about what she should be doing or what her future plans are. She let herself get into the moment, and I’m right there with her.
Having fun.
