“Do you always get your way?” I ask, looking up at him with a saucy expression.
“Nearly always, yes.”
I growl. “It’s the jaw. It’s hard to say no to. Hey, have you ever thought about acting? I bet you’d be so good playing Superman in a movie. Come on, let’s hop in the car and take a quick trip to LA to get you signed up for some action flicks.”
Drew is dragging me toward the front door of my grandaddy’s house. “Sure thing, let’s just make a quick stop inside first.”
WHY ARE MY FOOTBRAKES NOT WORKING?!
“Wait! Drew, Drew, Drew, Drew,” I say, trying to pull my hand from his so I can sprint back toward the car and somehow take him with me.
He chuckles and turns around. “What is wrong with you?”
“You’re about to go inside my childhood house.”
“So?” He’s so cute when he’s exasperated with me.
“So…this is my house. All my secrets are in there…all my memories. I don’t know if you know this or not, but I’m not great at being vulnerable.”
He gives a mocking gasp. “No.”
I smack his arm. “I kind of feel like I’ve already met my vulnerability quota for the day by telling you about Jonathan and my parents.”
The teasing leaves Drew’s eyes, and he steps closer to cradle my face in his hands and kiss my lips. It ends too quickly and I’m teetering forward for more when he says, “I get it, Jessie. So what do you want me to do?”
“Maybe you could just go get a hotel, and then Grandaddy and I could meet you for dinner?”
“Okay.”
“Really?” I say, a little skeptical that he gave in so easily. I expected at least a little bit of a fight.
He grins and kisses me again before dropping his hands to his sides. “Yeah, sounds good. I’ll find a hotel and—hey.” His brows pinch together, and he looks over my shoulder. “Is that guy breaking into that house?”
“What?!” I spin around and peer through the neighborhood, but I don’t see anything. “Where? I don’t see anyone.”
I turn back to find Drew pressing the doorbell with a mischievous slanted smile and lifted brow. “I’m not going to a hotel. I’m staying here. With you. Get over it.” I want to be angry, but when he holds out his hand for me to take, my body moves to him like a magnet and I grip it in mine.
It occurs to me that the same reasons I hated Drew in the beginning are the reasons I’ve fallen for him now. He’s heavy-handed. He’s bossy. He won’t back down from me—and he’s exactly what I need and want.
Drew holds me tight, wrapping his hand around my waist like even if I tried to dart away, he wouldn’t let me. We stand united like those annoying June bugs in Florida as the front door opens and I see my grandaddy’s smiling face.
I put my hand on Drew’s chest. “Grandaddy, meet my boyfriend, Drew.”
I walk back into the living room and hand Grandaddy a fresh cup of coffee I brewed for him. He smiles up at me and pats the back of my hand, sending me spiraling through thousands of memories.
Everything about this house is familiar and exactly the same as the day I left at eighteen. The carpet is still an odd shade of brownish-taupe. There’s a small screened-in porch with bright green faux turf carpet and white metal lawn chairs. The walls are wood-paneled and lined with photos of me from birth all the way up to a photo of me standing with a goofy smile and my arms spread wide outside my salon on opening day. I gave Grandaddy the inaugural haircut. There are photos of Grandma sprinkled around too, but since she died when I was little, they are mainly photos of her in her younger days.
The pillows are still navy, and the couch is still that odd brown and yellow plaid with big wooden armrests. There’s not a single updated or trendy thing about this place, and I adore it.
Actually, that’s not true. There is one update: Drew. He’s sitting on the couch, aiming an intense smile up at me.
“So,” Grandaddy says, breaking through my thoughts. “Drew, how do you feel about being pinched?”
“Grandaddy…” I say in way of warning.
Drew’s brow furrows. “What am I missing?”
“Nothing, just an inside joke.” I look down at my mischievous grandaddy. He winks up at me under one bushy eyebrow.