Page 105 of All This Time

He pulls one of the postcards from the mirror and studies it. “You still have these?” he asks, looking at the postcard from my grandfather that I’ve had on my mirror since high school.

“Did you think I’d get rid of them?”

He shakes his head. “No. It’s just bringing back memories…” He trails off, not finishing his thought.

I watch him, waiting for him to continue speaking, but he remains silent. “Fletcher?”

He blinks and his trance is broken. Placing the postcard back in its place, he backs up from my dresser and then turns to face me. Reaching for my hand, he leads me out of my room, back to the living room and around the corner into the kitchen.

“My father chose football over everything in his life, Laney,” he says, confusing me at first until I realize he’s giving me insight to what his dad said earlier. “He chose the game over my mom and me. It’s all he ever cared about.”

“I know.”

“But I’m. Not. Him.” He punctuates every word.

“I know that, too.”

“I sure as fuck hope so.”

I reach up and run my hand down the side of his face, trailing my finger along his jaw, making this fire between us burn even hotter. “I do, Fletcher. I know you could never be your father.”

“Why didn’t you still come to Florida State, Laney?” His question is full of pain, curiosity, and longing.

“Fletcher…”

“No.” He reaches for my hand on his face, putting his over mine. “I need to know.”

“Why?”

Inhaling deeply, he says, “Because for the past twelve years, I’ve relived that night over and over again. For the past twelve years, every time you’ve scowled at me, it’s felt like a knife being shoved right through the center of my chest.”

“I don’t scowl…”

“We’ve been over this, Laney. Your scowl is fucking terrifying.” I roll my eyes, but there’s a hint of a smile on my lips. “But the thing is, I’m pretty sure I know what happened that night, but I feel like I’m missing something too.”

“Fletcher…”

“Please, Laney.”

This is it. This is the opportunity for me to let Fletcher know how he made me feel all those years ago.

But what happens after?

Does it change what’s happening between us?

Laney, the lines between you two are so blurry, not even a magnifying glass could clear it up.

Sighing, I say, “Okay.”

A breath of relief leaves his lips. “Thank you.”

“Don’t be thanking me just yet, Fletcher Adams. You’re about to find out why I’ve been calling you Lucifer all this time.”

Chapter 20

Laney

Age Eighteen