I also told her how we ended, and how, just recently, we realized my mother’s role in deceiving us both.
“Oh wow,” Lynn murmurs. “That’s why you went to Cunningham Falls yesterday?”
I nod.
“This is wonderful, though.” She sighs dreamily. I even get a sappy smile from her. “It’s your second chance at love.”
“No, it’s not,” I snap so fast she jerks her chin inward as her eyes widen. Calming my tone, I shake my head. “It’s just… there’s too much anger there, and we’re totally different people now. I mean… he’s a one-night stand kind of guy and I’m all about commitment.”
“Bullshit,” Lynn replies.
“Excuse me? What’s bullshit?”
“That you’re a commitment type of person,” she says blandly. “You’ve not had a relationship last longer than six months. You always break it off when things get too serious.”
I open my mouth immediately to argue with her, but it snaps shut just as quickly as I realize she’s right. I shy away from the type of feelings that could lead to heartbreak. Still, I won’t outright admit that. I merely say, “I just haven’t found the right person yet. If I did, then I’m all for commitment.”
“Or maybe you have found the right one.” The expression on her face is sly and mischievous.
“No way,” I deny. “Too much hurt. No way we could work it out.”
“Or you could say it’s water under the bridge and take a shot.”
“No,” I reply with an adamant shake of my head. “Besides… Kynan hasn’t been so quick to forgive me. Even though my mom orchestrated the false investigative report, he’s got some hard feelings for the fact I didn’t trust him enough.”
“How do you know?” she asks lightly. “Have you talked?”
Something like that, I think. I’m not about to tell her about our sexcapades and the way he left me so abruptly.
True, Kynan’s playing nice and professional now, and we’ve seemingly put that behind us, but I know what I did is probably unforgivable in the long run.CHAPTER 17KynanI have the freedom to watch Joslyn, and she has no clue. She’s stuck in a chair at a dressing table, her makeup and hair being done by two separate people. I’m off to the side where she can’t see me in the mirror’s reflection, and I’m enjoying the view.
It brings me back twelve years ago when she was in Vegas. I’d sat in her dressing room on many occasions while she was being made up to surpass the perfection she already was. Her bubbly personality always shined bright as she horsed around before she was set to go on stage. She and her stylist always cracked jokes, mostly too stupid to even remember, but I loved how purely effervescent she was to be around.
My memory hitches a bit and then falters as I recollect those days.
“Hey,” I say, interrupting the chatter of the makeup and hair stylists working on her. “What happened to your stylist in Vegas? I can’t remember his name.”
Joslyn’s hair is currently held hostage in an iron, so she can’t turn around, but I can see the side of her jaw. Her dimple pops, which means she’s smiling. “Michel.”
“That’s right, Michel,” I reminisce. “He was a bloody hoot.”
“He’s still back in Vegas,” she replies with a laugh. “Married and has two kids.”
“No kidding,” I say, fondly remembering the overly exuberant, extremely dramatic, but anti-relationship gay man.
“Yup. Married a really nice guy,” Joslyn says. “A tow-truck driver, believe it or not.”
Chuckling, I shake my head over the fact it actually doesn’t surprise me at all. “Vegas has everything.”
It’s the first time in a long time I’ve been able to think back on my time with Joslyn and not be offended by it. Hell, the memories are actually producing warm and fuzzy feelings for the first time in forever.
And maybe it’s because the stroll down memory lane has me feeling slightly nostalgic, and I don’t want to have to think about Joslyn going on national TV soon to tell the world we’re a couple. It’s not that I mind the attention. Never been a shy bloke.
But after this show is done taping, then it’s game on. Her stalker—if the plan works right—is going to make a showing. I hope it’s sooner rather than later. The longer this goes on, the more stressed Jos is going to become. Besides that, I have a life I need to get back to and I’d be lying if I didn’t say being around her is difficult.
I have to admit I’m not angry at her anymore. I’ve reminded myself she was nineteen and under her mother’s control for a long time. While I am solid with the fact I loved her and she loved me, I also know a young girl confronted with seemingly legit evidence of my betrayal would be affected differently than she would today at age thirty-two with some experience behind her. I have to forgive Joslyn for not knowing any better.