Don't Kiss the Bride

“You always make me feel better, too.”

“Really?” My mood brightens a little. “I never knew that.”

“Now ya do,” he says in his sexy, teasing voice. “Are you still in your car?”

“Yes,” I answer, just as there’s a soft tapping on my window.

“Open the door.”

Turning toward the door, my mouth falls open and I quickly unlock it and push it open. “Jude! What are you doing?”

He kneels down next to my open car door and leans inside. “I had to make sure you’re okay.”

With tears in my eyes, I throw my arms around him, not caring who sees or what they think or say. Screw all that. None of that matters.

This is all that matters—this man who just dropped everything he was doing for me without the slightest hesitation.

We hug for several long minutes. I don’t want to let him go. He feels like home, and it reminds me how much I’ve missed this closeness with him.

When we pull away, he cups my head in his palms and rubs his thumbs across my cheeks, wiping my tears.

“You didn’t have to come,” I say softly.

“Yeah, I did. You think I’d let you sit in a parking lot by yourself when you need me? I didn’t let you do it the day we met, and I won’t do it now. Or ever.”

I grin at him and sniffle. “You’re kind of amazing.”

“I know. So are you,” he says, winking at me. “Are you okay? I can drive you to work, or home.”

I shake my head. “No, I feel a lot better now. I don’t have to work today, so I can go home.”

That’s when I notice he’s staring at my leg.

Oh, no.

“And what’s this?” he asks, touching his name written on my leg through the hole just above my knee.

“Um… a fake tattoo?” I say lamely, feeling way too much like a teenage girl with a crush writing a boy’s name with hearts all over her stuff.

He turns his gaze back to me with that damn smirk. “I’ll take you to get a real one if ya want.”

I push his hand away. “I was just scribbling.”

“It’s cute,” he says. “I’m kinda flattered. I don’t think anyone’s ever written my name on them before.”

I pull at the frayed threads in the hole and avert my eyes from his. “Is it true that you traded blowjobs for drugs?”

He chokes. “What?”

“Apparently Paige’s cousin went to school with you. She said that’s what you did at parties.”

“What the fuck?” he says, shoving a hand through his hair. “Skylar, I was six-fucking-teen.”

“So, it’s true?” I ask, horrified, and hoping he’ll deny it immediately.

His shoulders lift. “I think I did that once.”

My mouth frowns in disgust and disappointment. “So gross, Lucky.”

“C’mon, it was stupid kid shit.”

“Okay.” It’s really none of my business, and I have no right to be feeling the jealousy boiling in my blood.

“I’m not gonna lie about it, Skylar. I have a scuzzy past. I can’t change it.”

“I know… you’re right.” I smile weakly at him. “Your past doesn’t matter. I like who you are now.”

He touches my hand. “I like you, too.”

I remember he said those same words way back when we went to the park for the first time, and laughed on the swings together. I wonder if he remembers that day like I do. I wonder if he felt the same sparks when he helped me stand up, with my hand in his.

Our first hand hug.

“You’re better now? he asks hoarsely.

“Yes.” I nod. “Thank you for coming to sit with me.”

He pulls his hand away slowly. Just as slow as he did that day. “I gotta go back to work. Text me when you get home. Drink some tea, cozy up with a book. I’ll make us grilled cheese when I get home.”

I nod and watch him walk casually back to his truck. How dare he look just as sexy from the back as he does from the front.

I wish I didn’t want him, but I still do. So damn much it hurts.

I’m in such a daze on the drive home I don’t even put any music on. I just want quiet so I can hear his voice in my head, saying those four words.

I like you, too.

I wonder if he misses me as much as I miss him.

When I get home, I take Cassie out in the yard for a few minutes, hugging myself against the frigid breeze, then go upstairs. I text Megan on my way to my room.

Me: In case you’re looking for me, I left school early. Paige was annoying the shit out of me.

Megan: She’s such a witch!

Me: I know :-( I’m so sick of her. Can I call you tonight? What time will you be home?

Megan: Try me at nine. Are you okay?

Me: Yes, just wanted to vent and stuff