Page 32 of Chasing After You

Josh hesitated, seemingly struggling to find the right words to say. “You’re all grown up,” he stated.

I smiled. “I am.”

“Did… did you mean what you wrote in your letter?”

My eyes flicked down his body, catching him clenching his apron in his fists, fingers shaking. “Yes.”

His brow furrowed, a conflicted expression on his face. “But…”

I reiterated, “I would like to talk to you alone, big brother. We have a lot to catch up on.” A wave of pain washed over his face as he heard me call him that.

“No way,” Oliver piped in, stepping forward again. “There’s no goddamn way that you’re going to talk to him alone. For all we know, you just want to get him secluded so that you can attack him.”

Before I had the chance to tell him that he didn’t have any business getting between us, Josh spoke up.

“We can speak here. We can sit on opposite sides of the cafe. Oliver will sit on that side.” He pointed to the right. “And we’ll sit over there.” He pointed to a table that sat directly against the left wall. “That’s what I’m willing to do.”

Meet him halfway, I told myself.

“Fine,” I said simply, without looking at Oliver again. My eyes remained locked on Josh, hungry, desperate, afraid to lose contact. “That’s more than I thought I’d get.”

He nodded slowly and cautiously, then swallowed. The motion nearly undid me.

I could do this. I just needed to be careful with my words.

I followed his lead without hesitation as he gestured toward the corner table. My legs carried me as though they had a mind of their own, moving forward one step at a time.

He sat down first, across from the chair he’d chosen for me. His hands rested carefully on the table, as if he were keeping them visible on purpose. Like he thought if I didn’t see them, I’d think he was hiding something.

Fine. I could do that too. He let out a small exhale as I placed my hands on the table. We were so close that if I were only to stretch my fingers out a bit further, just a few inches, our fingertips would brush against one another.

His fingers twitched, like he was thinking the same thing.

He kept looking at my hands. I flexed them, slowly, on the table. The tattoos on my knuckles rippled slightly with the movement.

He continued to stare at them. Studying them.

“You still bite your nails,” I murmured.

His gaze shot to mine, startled. “You… remember that?”

“I remembereverything,” I stressed, catching myself before I got aggressive. I needed to keep him calm, not make him hunch in on himself like he often did whenever Victoria, Daniel, or anyone else raised their voice.

He looked away, over toward Oliver, who was watching us like a hawk from his seat. I saw the tension coil through Josh’s shoulders. He wanted to believe I was safe. I could tell that he didn’t want a chaperone around to talk, but he also didn’t know if he’d survive being wrong about me.

“Why now?” he asked, eyes downcast, one of his fingers tracing the lines in the table. “Why come back now?”

“Victoria finally spilled about where you’d gone and the name change. I was searching for you the entire time, but I had nothing substantial to go on.”

Josh swallowed thickly before asking softly, “Why didn’t you just show up? Why did you have to call me on all those different numbers and follow me around, making me scared? What was the point of doing that for so long?”

I tilted my head, watching him and considering my words with an abundance of caution. “I wanted to wait until I felt you were ready.”

His expression twisted, conveying his hurt and confusion. “That doesn’t make any sense, Dori…”

“You don’t need to understand,” I hummed, pleased by his usage of my childhood nickname.

“Yeah, I kinda do,” he insisted. “Did you do it all for some type of revenge? To hurt me or make me feel stupid? Or… or…” I knew what he was asking, even if he couldn’t get the words out.