The Crush

“I promise you, manifesting isn’t witchcraft or anything. It’s more like visualization. What’s the alternative? Feeling hopeless? Negative energy will hamper things. You have to envision a positive outcome and actually believe it. That’s what manifesting is.”

“And what exactly have you manifested lately?” he asked.

I’m currently manifesting you. Hard. “I’m working on a few things.”

“Oh yeah? How’s that going?”

“It’s going.” I blushed.

He looked like he wanted to say something, but remained silent. “I have another memory of you, actually,” he finally said. “Something I’ll never forget. I don’t know if you’ll remember this one, though. You were really young.”

I cocked my head. “What was it?”

He looked down at his hands. “You know I used to have a stuttering problem when I was a kid...”

“I do vaguely remember that, yeah.”

“By the time I met you and Nathan, my parents had paid for speech therapy, but the stammering would still come out when I was nervous or stressed. Anyway…I think I was, like, fourteen. Nathan and I had gotten in trouble with your parents for breaking one of the windows. It was my fault. I threw the baseball that broke the glass.” His mouth curved into a slight smile. “Your dad was so pissed. I was trying to explain myself, and I couldn’t get the words out without stuttering. It freaked me out. I ran out to the yard mid-conversation, and you came after me. You must have been, like, eight years old, but you were so perceptive. You somehow knew why I’d escaped. You said the cutest freaking thing to me.”

“What was it?”

“You said, ‘Don’t worry. Porky Pig is my favorite Looney Tunes character.’”

Oh my God. “Because he stutters?” I laughed. “I don’t remember saying that, but I still stand by it. He was always my favorite. Honestly, that was probably because of his stutter. It gave him character.”

“What you said calmed me down that day. I went back inside and explained myself to your parents. I was still stuttering, but I got through it. No one else seemed to realize why I’d even left.” Jace flashed a gorgeous smile. “Anyway, when I look in your eyes, I still see that sweet little girl sometimes. Even though you’re far from a little girl anymore.”

I felt warm all over—not sure if it was because he’d called me sweet or had acknowledged I’d grown up.

He suddenly stood and walked over to the snack cabinet, opening it and perusing the selection. He ran his hand through his inky hair before closing the cabinet. Then he turned around and said, “Anyway, thank you for the talk.”

“Anytime.”

I was just about to head to my room when he stopped me. “Do you have plans for dinner?”

“No.”

“What time is Nathan coming back tonight?”

“He said he won’t be home until late. He had a job interview this afternoon, and then he was going to see some girl he met online. She lives about two hours away. That’s a long-ass drive. Hope she’s worth it.” I snorted.

“Ah. Okay. That’s good he’s putting himself out there, though. I was getting worried.” Jace scratched his chin before grabbing his keys. “I’m in the mood for Checkers. Would you want something if I go and bring it back?”

My stomach growled. “That sounds good.” I walked over to my purse on the counter. “Let me get some money.”

He held out his hand. “No, no, no. My treat.”

“You need to come up with a hundred grand. I’m not letting you cover my dinner.”

“I’ll live. Put it away. What do you want?”

I pulled up their online menu on my phone. “I’ll take a Mother Cruncher chicken sandwich and a Diet Coke.”

“That’s it? No fries?”

“No. I’ll just steal a few of yours.”

“I’ll get you your own.” He winked. “Be back.”

I stood by the window, watching him pull away. I didn’t know what to do with myself. Since he’d moved in, Jace and I hadn’t eaten dinner together without Nathan. I warned myself not to get too excited. For all I knew, Jace would take his food to his room and eat by himself. It wasn’t like he’d asked me out on a date. He’d merely asked if I wanted something from a fast-food joint since he was going there anyway.

It was a hot day, so while I waited, I ventured to my room and changed into a bikini. Regardless of whether Jace wanted to join me for dinner, I decided I’d eat at the table by our pool after my swim. I grabbed a towel and laid it on one of the loungers in our screened-in pool area. It was seriously the most beautiful part of our house. Surrounded by breezy palm trees, it was like being outside—minus the mosquitos or rain when it suddenly poured. It was the best of both worlds: being outside inside.

I dove into the pool and began swimming laps, one of my favorite ways to expend nervous energy. I must have lost track of time because when I finally emerged from the water, pushing the wet hair off my face, I looked up to find Jace standing by the edge of the pool. How long has he been watching me swim?