Page 42 of The Risks of Reuniting (Love Connections #1)

Chloe

Family,

I'm writing this email as a review of your behavior last night at dinner. Thanks to all of you, North Carolina is looking peachy.

Mom – the food was excellent, but your not-so-subtle probing on when Holt will give you grandchildren was less excellent.

As was very clearly stated, we are still figuring out how to make our relationship work.

Children have not come up. Children will not come up for a while.

And no, you do not need to sign me up for a subscription to Bridal Monthly magazine.

At this point, I am more likely to consider eloping.

Dad – getting Holt to empty all garbages, air up your car tires, and refill the gas on your lawn mower was the power move we did not need.

If you were attempting to humble him for his sins, I'd like to point out that Gavin is way worse than Holt and should be over there every week doing your little projects.

The stink-eye over dessert was super loyal, and sort of nice, but also, who can hold a stink-eye for twenty minutes?

If your goal was to see him sweat, congrats, he was indeed sweaty by the time we left. Message received.

Gavin – your plumbing threats were hilarious at first, but also, really?

Telling him you know exactly how to create a leak he'll never find, and that you can make sure his toilet overflows every time he flushes, was a little overdone.

Promising him he'll "swim in sewage" if he makes a wrong move, that was the line, buddy.

You found it. No one deserves that. But, maybe the most confusing part was asking him if he was into a pick-up game of basketball tonight at the rec center.

Do you play ball now? Or was that another way to get into his head?

Can you sustain a jog long enough to play basketball? Or did you mean on a video game system?

Grandma Sue – I'm glad you and Grandpa were free for dinner tonight, it was fun to see you.

Your pearls were fabulous. I feel I should let you know that "LOL" is only supposed to be used in text, not in real-life conversation.

Also, it means Laugh Out Loud, not Lots of Love.

So when you say things like, "Dinner was great, Jenny, LOL'" that sounds like you're mocking Mom, not telling her you love her.

Also, Holt does not need to come check out a mystery noise at your house this week.

You have Grandpa and Uncle Harold, but most especially your precious Kaden.

Any of them would be happy to help. If you were hoping Holt would pop by for gossip, then I'm coming too to make sure things stay normal.

And a note to myself as a reminder. Keep Holt away from the family until they can play nice.

I love you all so much. It's nice that you're in my corner.

Does that feel like a mixed message?

LOL,

Chloe

Wednesdays are always the busiest at the dental office where Allie and I work, and we've never been able to figure out why.

You'd think mid-week would be quiet, but no, it's hopping.

I did more cleanings today than my lower back liked, and my new cartoon kitten scrubs are wrinkled as I sink into the passenger seat of Allie's car on our drive home.

Yeah, we live and work together – it's a lot – but we never seem to grow tired of each other.

Probably because we each have a TV in our bedroom and she likes to go on runs.

"The kitten scrubs were a hit," Allie teases me as she pulls out of the parking lot. "I never in a million years thought I'd see you out of the standard color palette." Her dark braid swishes over her shoulder as she looks back toward the road ahead. "You're growing right before my eyes."

I smile, thinking of Rachelle and her brightness, and my efforts to shift more in that direction. "I was inspired by a goddess," I respond. "She had unicorn print scrubs that I aspire to. I'll have to work my way up."

"I need to meet this girl someday," Allie chuckles. "Maybe I'll get some funky scrubs."

"I saw a pair online that had bumblebees. They were adorable. You should get those."

We fall into light chit-chat on the short drive, talking over what to make for dinner, and how the next episode of our favorite trashy TV show drops tonight, and through it all I wonder how Holt is doing.

He started his internship today and I haven't heard anything from him yet.

He was unsure of the hours, and we assumed he wouldn't have his phone on him, but it's hard not to feel a little anxious.

I both trust and do not trust our new bond.

Only time will solve that particular issue .

"I vote for grilled chicken, a salad kit, and flopping in pj's tonight," I say on a yawn as Allie turns into her parking spot at our complex and shuts off her car.

"Or . . . " she says, and I hear amusement in her tone, "you could figure out what that one wants."

My head jerks up to find Holt sitting on our front steps.

He's dressed in a button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up and navy blue pants, and he stands as he sees us get out of the car.

Is it weird that my hands tingle? Is that normal?

He takes a few steps closer, meeting up with us when we step onto the sidewalk that wraps around the community.

His dark eyes chase over my face as he smiles, and my expression shifts to match his.

I'm aware we look like two mindless dummies, but I don't care one bit.

"It's so good to see you after a long day," he says, leaning forward to give me a quick kiss on the lips.

I don't take this moment for granted, because it is sooo good. Such a simple thing, but amazing.

"Hey," I say, dazzling him with my words.

"Holt," Allie greets, still holding off on trusting him, as she walks past. "Be cool man, I have a spatula that's on the fritz."

Holt chuckles and offers her a salute. "Allison."

"Darn right," she states as she disappears through the front door.

"You're here." I grin wide.

He nods. "I am, and I'm happy to say those kittens suit you." I grin and he holds out his hand to take mine. "How do you feel about strolling with me for a bit?"

I am definitely interested in being alone with him, and so I take his hand and follow his lead as we fall into slow steps along the sidewalk.

It's warm, with the sun still high in the sky and no breeze offering relief.

The grass is bright green, the sky is blue, and the kids playing at the community park fill the air with their sounds.

It's a perfectly lovely summer evening, and I soak in this moment.

When we broke up it was the small things I missed the most.

"I was able to speak to a professor today about transfers," Holt says, not bothering to ease into the topic. "And a couple of staff pharmacists as well."

My heart stutters, because his tone doesn't sound promising. "Oh, yeah?"

"I also set an appointment with someone in admittance, but I'm guessing it will only confirm what they say.

" He scratches at his beard and I stay silent.

"If there's a good thing about this, it's that I'm in P1, so I'm not even halfway through school.

However, it can be really difficult to transfer.

Not all schools have the same curriculum in the same order.

So Chapel Hill may not have covered what the U covers in this year, and vice-versa.

Pro: I was accepted at the U once, so that's good.

Con: Typically they review it on a case-by-case basis and would want to see extenuating circumstances. They don't love transfers."

"Bottom line?" I ask.

"Bottom line. It would be very difficult, but maybe not impossible." He stops us and turns to face me. "I'm willing to try if that's what you need from me."

My heart thumps hard in my chest as I take in his handsome face. He's concerned and unsure, and he looks as torn as I feel.

"Remind me why you wanted to be at Chapel Hill," I say.

I tug at his hand to get us moving again, finding that it's easier to have these conversations if we're sort of distracted.

It's hard not to dredge up the feelings from last year and end up in the same place we did before.

I'm trying hard to keep defenses down and enter this with curiosity rather than pre-determined frustration .

"It's ranked as the top pharmacy school in the country.

They heavily favor in-state applicants, so it's a honor I even got in.

Having my diploma from there can open doors, and it gives me a chance to study with some of the best. It's also outside of my comfort zone of the Western U.S.

, which I feel can be a good thing, and may set me up for bigger growth in my career. "

I can hear the war between excitement and hesitation in his tone as he tells me – but most of all, I can hear that this is his dream.

My dream was to become a dental hygienist, and I've done that.

But he still has a dream to chase, and I can't imagine he wouldn't have regrets at some point if he let it go .

. . and I think we've both had enough regrets for a lifetime.

I'm not the same person I was before. I'm braver, and it changes things.

"So, if you stay there, you have three more years?" I ask.

"Yeah."

"And if you transfer back here, is that the same?"

"Assuming I get a transfer, there is a chance the academics don't line up and I have to extend a bit to catch up," he replies.

"What do you like about North Carolina?" I ask.

He squeezes my fingers and huffs out a laugh.

"I have no idea," he replies. "I'm so busy with school that I'm mostly on campus and doing school work on weekends.

When I'm not at school, I'm in the gym working off frustrations and southern cooking.

The area is pretty, really green. Campus is lively. "

"What would I like about living there?" I tease.