Page 27

Carter and Josie corner me at work on Monday morning.

I don’t know why I’m surprised, but the way they storm in and shut the door of our office and snap the lock behind them makes it feel like an ambush. Then Josie pulls the blinds, and I absolutely feel like I’m being held hostage.

“What’s going on?” I ask, warily looking between the two of them. “Should I be worried?”

“Carter told me what he saw, and I think we need to talk.” Josie plops down in her chair, staring at me expectantly. Carter sits in the cramped chair in the corner. I almost laugh at the way he has to fold his long limbs to sit properly. “Start talking.”

I turn to Carter. “What exactly did you see?”

His cheeks turn bright red, his eyes widening slightly. “Um…well, I…”

“Yes?”

He clears his throat. “I saw you and Ronan. The other night at Bryce and Josie’s? After you did the tarot reading.”

Well, so much for trying to play it cool. We’re getting right to the point. “We were talking in the kitchen. ”

“That’s not what it looked like to Carter,” Josie replies. “To Carter, it looked like the two of you were fighting and, more specifically, it looked like you were fighting against him.”

I suck in a breath, realizing what it actually looked like to him. Coming in from another room with me trying to push past Ronan, anger and embarrassment burning my cheeks. I swallow thickly. “Uh, does Bryce know?”

“If Bryce knew what he saw, do you think Ronan would still be employed?” Josie questions.

“I know my boyfriend’s protective streak; he takes action first and asks questions later.

I wanted to hear the whole story from you before we told Bryce.

You know, to decide whether it’s something he needs to know. ”

“Right,” I breathe out. “Getting answers is probably a good first step.”

Even if I’ve never done that a day in my life. My god, I have too much in common with Bryce and it’s starting to freak me out a bit.

“So, as your best friend, I’m going to ask this once and only once. What happened?”

The locked door, pulled blinds, and presence of our favorite cinnamon roll suddenly makes sense. “We kissed.” They both look at each other with blank stares I can’t read, and I hate it. “Actually, I kissed him…again.”

Josie jumps up from her seat in a move so fluid it startles me. “What do you mean again? When did you kiss him the first time?”

“I’d actually be interested in knowing the answer to that, too.” Carter frowns. “Last I knew, you hated one another, and that tidbit of information dates back eight years.”

Oh, you poor, sweet, oblivious boy . You couldn’t be further from the truth .

Do I lie? Do I say the kiss in the stairwell was the first and only? Do I lightly allude to something happening in Omaha? What lines am I willing to cross here?

“We kissed right after I found out about Operation Fly.” Is it really a lie? It was the first time we’d kissed since everything happened in Omaha. As far as they both know, that was the first time we’d kissed. They don’t need the details of whatever happened years ago. That won’t do them any good.

“But what does that mean for right now?” Carter asks. “Are the two of you into each other? Are you going to try dating? Do you even like one another?”

The last question is the most complicated one.

The more time I spend around him, the more I realize whatever crush I had on him never fully went away.

I’m not going to be the same na?ve girl I was then, though.

I wasn’t going to fall the first time he sends a wink my way, nor am I going to let my guard down.

Two kisses shared mostly in anger doesn't change what happened before.

I shrug. “He’s an attractive man. No one in this room can deny that and—I don’t know, it just happened.

Maybe it’s because I’ve been going on these dates, but nothing happens with any of them.

Maybe I’m a little lonely, but the reality is, nothing more is going to happen between Ronan and me.

Two kisses don’t mean we’re ready to fall into bed or walk down the aisle. ”

Something about the way Josie is looking at me has me shifting in my seat. She knows there’s more to the way I look at Ronan. I’ve never been able to deny when I was into someone. No matter how much I argued against it, she’s always known.

“Just…be careful. I don’t want to see you get hurt again. Especially not this close to moving on from Bianca. Yes, I want to see you get out there and find someone else, but not at the expense of your heart breaking again. ”

“Aren’t you the queen of second chances?” I ask, wanting that probing look to be directed anywhere but at me. “You and Bryce had this whole thing you came back from. I thought you’d be happy to see Ronan and I making any sort of progress.”

Why do I do this? Why do I turn the attention off me by directing a spotlight on something that makes someone else uncomfortable?

I know I do it, Josie knows I do it, and even though she’s never been hurt by it, my deflection makes her relive things.

Yet to avoid my own pain, I take her back to a time when the man who loves her more than anything on this Earth broke her heart.

Back to a time when she felt humiliated and ostracized from a sport she loved, all because he was too young and too scared to face the truth.

It took them a long time to get where they are, but I’m certain from the moment they met, there hasn’t been a day when Josie Martin wasn’t Bryce Clark’s everything.

She doesn’t take the bait, though. Rather than shrink in on herself or try to change the subject, stubbornness rolls off her in waves. A burst of pride shoots through me. “Don’t use me to get us off your back, Mia. I know what you’re doing.”

The fight drains out of me. “You know I don’t mean to do that, right? It’s something—”

“You’re working on it, I know. I don’t take offense. I know you too well and I know what you’re doing. You don’t mean to hurt people, but you feel the need to protect yourself.”

“Doesn’t make it right,” I mutter.

“No, but forgiveness is easily given in these moments,” Carter adds. “Because we know the real you, and we know what you hide behind when you don’t want to share that with the world.”

Josie nods in agreement. “And I might be the queen of second chances, but you know how hard I worked to get here. You know how hard he worked and how hard we work together still. I don’t know what happened between you and Ronan—whatever you’re hurt by—but I’m going to share some important advice I once got.

You’re allowed to be mad at the people who hurt you.

You’re allowed to decide who gets to be part of your life moving forward. ”

The words ring in my ears with a familiarity I can’t seem to put my finger on. My mouth drops open a bit, hoping the words will find me. That they’d come tumbling out, but nothing does.

“You said it to me once, when Bryce came back into my life,” Josie reminds me.

The realization dawns on me; it was right after he brought her coffee, and she wasn’t sure where she wanted him to be in her life.

She goes on to say, “I had to decide whether the person who hurt me got to be part of my life going forward. Despite everything, I’ve never regretted the decision I made, not really. Now it’s your turn to decide that for yourself.”

“But what if I get hurt?”

It takes me a second to realize the sad, scared whispered question came from me, but once I do, the weight of it settles around me.

Because that’s the real question, the one I’ve been avoiding this entire time.

If I give him a chance—if I tell him the truth—I’m opening myself up for heartbreak. And that’s always scary.

“Then we’ll be here to help you put yourself back together,” Carter replies.

When I turn to look at him, he’s leaning forward with his arms resting against his knees, brown hair a tousled mess.

“You know you can’t avoid pain, but not everyone is going to leave you, Mia.

You won’t know who’s going to stay until you give them a chance. ”

The two people in this room with me will never leave. They’re going to be the ones who stay. Ronan could run. He could run far away from me and never look back, but he’d still be there. Just out of reach in my heart and mind, and I’d be forced to live with it for the rest of my life.

“It’s your choice, Mia. It’s always been your choice,” Josie mutters.

I know that. I just don’t know how to make it.

“What are you doing here?”

Carter is walking toward me, hands stuffed in the pocket of his hoodie. Further behind him, Ronan trails in with Lezak prancing at his feet. My heart thumps against my chest—clearly more excited to see the puppy than the man holding the leash.

I don’t get a chance to answer Carter because the second Ronan unhooks the leash, the small bundle of golden fluff charges straight at me. Laughing, I reach down to scoop him into my arms, happily accepting all the kisses he eagerly gives. “Hi, puppy!”

“Should I be offended that he zoomed right past me to get to her?” Carter’s sad tone barely pushes into my puppy-induced haze of happiness. “I think he hates me.”

When I look at the two men, I find Ronan wearing a fond smile, fully focused on me and his dog. Unable to be on the receiving end of a grin like that for too long, I look away. “Don’t take it personally, Carter. I think he’d pick Mia over me, too.”

I hide my own grin in the fuzzy fur of the golden retriever’s head. “What can I say? Dogs love me.”

“They’re not the only ones,” Carter mutters under his breath, then groans when Ronan elbows him in the side.

I set Lezak back on the deck, looking between the two of them with a frown. “What was all of that about? ”

“Ignore him,” Ronan insists. I don’t miss the glare he sends Carter. “I’m guessing we all got the same cryptic text message?”