The Mrs. Degree (Accidentally in Love 2)

I trail him reluctantly, insides tangled, not sure I can stomach anything to drink or eat.

But we’re on neutral ground, which is what he wanted.

He’s smart.

Insightful.

My phone vibrates, and I remove it from my pocket to see another message from my brother.

Davis: You know him, Penelope. There is no reason to be scared. He might be big and tough-looking, but he’s about to be the most vulnerable human on earth. Give him a chance to be mad at you, but remember, this will all work out in the end. This is the universe’s plan for you.

The universe’s plan for me? Since when is my brother so altruistic?

This is what having a girlfriend is doing to him, turning him into an even bigger romantic.

Jack orders a coffee, turning to ask if I want one, too.

I don’t, but I find myself nodding anyway. My hands will need to be occupied, and I can’t sit at the table jingling my keys nervously. “Yes, please.” I pause. “Thank you.”

Compared to our night out, this feels sterile and formal. Stiff and forced.

I’m extremely uncomfortable already.

Guess it would have helped if I had prepared a speech on my ride over rather than wiping sweat from my armpits.

Jack carries the cups over after adding a sweetener for himself, dropping a few onto the tabletop for me as he takes a seat. He leans back only to silently watch me from across the table for a few seconds.

Is he waiting for me to say something first?

Stop being a baby, Penelope. You owe the man.

You owe him a lot.

I feel as if I’ve committed a crime. One against humanity or at least parenthood, my sin one without a fitting punishment. My level of discomfort can be no match for Jack’s inner turmoil.

I inhale a deep breath and wrap my palms around the warm coffee cup, cradling it.

“When we first met, it was love at first sight for me.” I begin telling Jack a story I’d never told him before, from the beginning. “I remember everything about that night—what you were wearing, what I was wearing. The time at night when my girlfriends and I arrived at the party where you were.” I pause to recollect the memories and give him time to do the same. “I think at that point I was still scared. I had never dated anyone before, and here you come along, already larger than life.”

Jack shifts in his chair, the tension he had in his shoulders when he arrived beginning to fade.

His body relaxes but only a fraction.

I continue. “I didn’t come from a small town, but I came from a small school, and Davis and my mom sheltered me. My brother had chased off any guys I’d ever been interested in. First, it was through intimidation—because he thought that’s what big brothers were for—and then through the simple fact that no guy wanted to mess with Davis Halbrook’s—of the Lions—sister. No one wanted to find out if he would actually appear to kick their ass. They cared more about him, his reputation, his rising star than they ever cared about me.”

That truth still stings me to this day.

“So when I met you, I could already see that you were different. You were mature and worldly—or so I assumed—and so very confident. It intimidated me at the same time as it drew me in. All I wanted after that first night was to be around you.” I loved him so much. “At the same time, I didn’t want to hold you back.”

Jack narrows his eyes as he listens. “You never held me back.”

“I’m just explaining that at the time—when I was twenty years old—that’s how I felt. I’m not saying you did,” I say, hands leaving the rim of the coffee cup to hold my palms up. “I knew you had goals much bigger than mine, and I felt…” I search for the words. “I felt…that mine weren’t as important. I was never going to be a big deal. I was going to work in a corporate office, work for someone else—some entry-level, shitty job, probably with an asshole of a boss. Long days and long nights.” I’m basically describing the job I have now, only rather than earn a business degree to go along with it, I’d dropped out. “You, on the other hand—were going to play professional football.”

Jack hardly moves a muscle, but his jaw clenches.

“You never made me feel anything but wonderful. I felt like the luckiest girl in the world. I was dating The Skip—the most loyal young man on campus who had the world at his fingertips.” He was charismatic and funny. He made the dean’s list every semester. He volunteered in the community when he had the time. He made time for me and never made me feel as if he was giving me his scraps.