She wore tight jeans that hugged her shapely legs and hips, a leather jacket over a white tee, and black boots. Deluding myself, I chose to believe she had chosen those clothes to imitate me.
My voice escaped me and I stared at her.
Ethan cleared his throat. “I think John is calling me outside.” He exited the garage, put an arm around his uncle’s shoulders, and walked to the track.
Finally, I shook my head and forced my voice to work. “Hey.” I opened the fridge along the wall and grabbed a bottle of water. “Want one?” I offered, feeling lame about it. She shook her head, and I leaned against the counter beside the fridge. I took a long swallow of my water, hoping it would give me as much confidence as a dose of whiskey. “This is a nice surprise, but I confess I wasn’t expecting to see you so soon.”
After all, it was only October. If I had to bet, I would guess she would come home for Thanksgiving or Christmas. Or maybe not.
She played with the zipper of her jacket. “I’m moving back. Sort of. Not here, not now, but since USC doesn’t have an architecture program, I’m transferring to UNC Charlotte. I start in January. I’ll live on campus, but since it’s not that far from Lexington, I’ll probably be home almost every weekend. And after I graduate in two years, I plan on moving to Columbia, if I can find a job there.”
What? That was too good to be true.
Trying to be cool, I swallowed my feelings. “I bet your mother is happy about that.”
“She doesn’t know yet. In fact, she doesn’t even know I’m in town. I came directly here from the airport. I’ll go by her house later.”
I inhaled a sharp breath. Why was she telling me all this?
“Your parole ends soon, right?”
I nodded. “In a month.”
“Have you thought about what you’re gonna do then?”
I drank the rest of my water then threw the empty bottle in the trash. “I’m not sure. I’m … I’m thinking about applying to USC for mechanical engineering actually. Racing isn’t forever, and that way, I would be able to keep working with bikes.” I hadn’t told this to anyone, not even Jason. Then why was I was telling her all of my plans? I shrugged. “It sounds stupid.”
Her lips twisted in a small smile. “Not at all. I like your plans.”
I fixed my eyes on her and my heart stuttered. “I like your plans too,” I whispered.
We continued to stare at each other, the silence between us not awkward, but charged. I tried to think of things to say, how to keep this conversation going, but everything sounded too lame.
Finally, she took a book from inside her purse and handed it to me.
“What’s this?” I asked, taking it.
She shrugged. Curious, I opened the large book. However, it wasn’t a book at all. It was a photo album. The first page had a picture on it, the only picture in the entire album. In the photo, Jess and I stood in front of each other beside the pool at Rachel’s house. We weren’t touching, only talking, but the look on our faces while we stared at each other was unmistakable. Our feelings were written all over us.
“Rachel took that picture. She handed it to me before I left for Cleveland.” She crossed her arms, and I realized she was shielding herself. “With me, the mess started when Caryn handed me that cursed photo album, and I don’t know, it really was cursed. For four years, I couldn’t look at pictures, much less be in them. And I used to love pictures. I used to love drawing people, and even that was ruined for me. For four years, I only sketched landscapes. Until a few weeks ago.” She fished her sketchbook from inside her purse. “I sketched you on your bike without even realizing what I was doing.” She flipped the sketchbook open and showed me the drawing.
I gawked at it. “Wow, Jess. I forgot how good you are at drawing.” Damn, she was too good. I could see all the details, the stubble on my jaw, the muscles of my neck, the weariness of the leather jacket, the dirt in the bike wheels, the strands of hair, and the shadows obscuring part of my body.
“So,” she continued, shifting her weight. She was nervous. “I’m giving you this photo album as the start of a new chapter, a new beginning.”
What? I shifted my gaze from her to the photo album and back. Was she saying what I thought she was saying? This album was supposed to be a new chapter, a new beginning for us? For her and me? She was willing to do that? To give me another chance?
Her arms dropped to her sides and she sighed. “Well, I probably should go home for Saturday family lunch. I hope I don’t give my mother a heart attack.” Visibly tense, she picked up her purse from the seat beside her and turned to the back door.
She started walking away and desperation filled me. I couldn’t let her go, not again. She was moving back and she had come all this way to tell me about it, to give me this album.
“Jess, wait.”
She halted by the door. “Yes?”
I took a couple of steps toward her and stopped, running a hand through my damp hair. “I … I don’t know how to say it, so I’ll just show you what I want.”
In four long strides, I was right in front of her, but I didn’t stop. I pushed my body against her, until she was trapped between the door and me. She let out a loud gasp, but didn’t push me away. I placed my hands on the wall inches from her head and lowered my mouth to hers, not too gently. Her lips opened immediately, and her hands clutched my training overalls and pulled me closer.
Damn it, I had missed her more these past two months than I had missed her the first four years she had been away. I kissed her, long and hard, sure that if I broke any contact with her, she would disappear and I would die if she did.
I slid my hand down her body and clutched her ass, lining her hips with mine. She gasped against my mouth, probably aware of my hard-on. It was crazy, how my body reacted to her, how every sound she made, every part of me that she touched, sent a jolt of pleasure through me.
She wound her arms around my shoulders and her legs around my waist, rubbing her pelvis against mine.
I traced my lips down her jaw and nipped at her ear. “I missed you,” I whispered.
“I missed you too,” she said, out of breath.
I pulled back and stared into the deep sea of her eyes. “What changed your mind? What made you come back?”
“You, idiot.” She rolled her hips, making me groan. “I realized we found closure for the past, but my feelings for you wanted more. They want the future.”
I buried my face in her neck and inhaled deeply, savoring her scent, wanting to wrap myself in it. “Thank God for that.”
“Do you have to train anymore?” She ran her nails on the back of my neck, making me shiver.
Even if I had to, I would totally skip it. “No.”
“Then take me out of here.”
I smiled, bringing my mouth to hers again. “My pleasure.”
Epilogue
Jessica
It was his day, so I made his favorite. Chocolate chip pancakes and orange juice. And a black coffee on the side for me.
I put everything on a tray and tiptoed to our bedroom.
When I graduated from UNCC two years ago, we moved to an apartment in downtown Columbia, three blocks from the big architecture office I worked at. My salary was nice enough, and with time and specialization, it would only get better. My boss was planning on retiring in a couple of years, and he had been giving me hints about me taking his place.
Mama was happy about having me around again. About six months after Papa’s death, she started working at the bakery again—part time, but still, it gave her lots to do. And she loved baking.
Jason had graduated and was now in medical school. He had a loan and worked part time at the lab at the school, but he loved it. He was already talking about specializing in oncology. No need to wonder why.
I slipped into our room and smiled upon seeing him sprawled in our bed. He was still naked from the night before, and the sheet twisted around him like a gift I had to unwrap. I loved watching him, watching his long, hard body. A shiver spread through me from head to toe at the thought that that amazing body was pressed against mine constantly.