The Nice Guy Next Door (When In Waverly 1)

“She’s been able to open up to Greg. She’s not afraid anymore. Why can’t I feel that brave?” she asks. Her voice cracks, and more tears pour down her face. I cradle her face in my hands and wipe the tears with my thumbs.

“Millie, my mom is forty-nine years old. It has taken her my entire life to finally risk her heart with a man.”

“So, you’re saying it’s going to take me, like, thirty more years before I’ll feel brave enough?” she says in a squeaky voice.

“Gosh, I hope not. That’s a long time for me to have to wait. I’d be sixty-one,” I joke. She looks at me with narrowed eyes. “All I’m saying is that no one’s rushing you, not even me. You’re on your own timeline.”

Millie takes a deep breath and rolls her shoulders back. “Okay, let’s go back out there. We don’t want them to think any funny business is going on in here,” she jokes.

Millie has a lot to work through, and it bothers me that she’s just brushing her feelings under the rug. I want her to talk to me and tell me what’s really going through her head so we can move forward. Who cares if people are in another room, waiting for us? Let them wait all day if necessary!

One of these days, I’ll hold her down and force her to talk to me and listen to me when I tell her that she’s wonderful and I love her and I’m not going anywhere—not now, and not in fifty years. She won’t believe me at first, so I’ll probably have to hold her hostage and say it over and over again until it finally sinks in.