I use my hand to tilt his eyes to mine, “What is this? What are we doing?”
CHAPTER 8
ERIC
What exactlyarewe doing? I ask myself, inches away from lips that are begging for more. Forme.
"I'm so sorry, Jolene. I shouldn't have done that."
Her hand is still positioned on the back of my neck, "I wanted you to. I still want you to."
I stare into her eyes, "I promised myself I wouldn't do this."
"I thought I was crazy for feeling these things," she admits, barely above a whisper.
"Not crazy," I reassure, "just really, really complicated."
She instantly pulls away, "Oh my god. You're right. I should leave."
"No," I demand, "You shouldn't leave."
"I really should. This entire thing could get really tangled."
"Or we could cook dinner? Eat and pretend that didn't happen?" I suggest.
She offers me a sidelong stare, "Pretend?"
"Okay, good point. I can't pretend it didn't happen because I wanted it to happen. I realize how that makes me sound, especially since I was supposed to marry someone a month ago."
I continue to ramble, but she puts her finger to my mouth, "Stop. I don't know what any of this means, but you don't have to keep making up excuses. Not for me."
She looks so different sitting in front of me. Her hair is still damp from the shower, with not a trace of makeup or those fake eyelashes she wears around all the time. She seems comfortable, and I worry I might've messed that up.
Her feet hit the floor next to mine as she slides off of the counter. "What can I do?"
I motion to the crock pot in the corner, "Grab a spoon. Let's eat."
We do. We eat and talk, not about the kiss that just happened, but pretty much everything else. Things I didn't know, or maybe I did but was too wrapped up in Hanna to actually listen. She talks about her mom and dad and how she moved around so much as a child, never really in a place long enough to make any friends.
It makes my stomach turn. Was I about to take the only friend she's ever really gotten close to? Because I couldn't see Hanna ever being okay with this. With us.
"I really liked your parents," she smiles, "And Emma. I'm honestly surprised she and Hanna wasn't closer. She seems so sweet."
"She is," I agree, "She's been through a lot. I'm glad she has Ty. He's good for her."
She doesn't pry for information, instead takes another drink. "Ty played football?"
"Yeah, he was good too. Really good. Tore his ACL senior year, and he missed half the season. It was really hard on both of them. Before any of that, they expected him to go first round in the NFL draft."
"Oh, wow. That's terrible."
"Yeah, but Emma and Ty are perfect for each other. Trust me, at first, I had my doubts. He just kept proving me wrong. They helped each other through the worst times in each other's lives. It's the best kind of love."
She looks down at the table, and I wonder if I've said something wrong. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, of course. I was just thinking about what you said and remembering that I haven't ever experienced that."
I take her margarita from her hand and place it on the table, "You will."