Page 42 of I Never Stopped Loving You

“It’s that card game I used to play with my grandparents. I told you about it.”

“I’m confused. You went to the bar, then back to his place to play?”

“No. The restaurant has board games. We’ll have to go some night. You’d love it there. They have a burger with pulled pork and mac-n-cheese.”

“Well, fuck me. Is it still open right now? I could really go for…”

“Jenna,” I growl.

“Sorry. Please continue, your highness.”

“Anyways. Dinner was perfect. He was perfect. He told me about his childhood, and I told him a little bit about growing up in Texas. After we left, we went to an arcade and played games.”

“Aww. That sounds like a great night.”

“It was.” My voice trails off as I open my eyes and sit up on the bed.

“But?” she asks as she scoots over to sit next to me.

“But I ruined it. I got scared.”

“Of him? Cause if he hurt you, I’ll fucking kill him. He may be a lawyer, but I listen to serial killer diary entries on Spotify, and I have connections.”

“No. Well, sort of. Not really about him, but how he made me feel. You know that I’ve never felt like I could just be myself with a guy. I’m always second-guessing everything I do and say. He didn’t let me do that. He kept me out of my head almost the entire night.”

“I’m still confused. It sounds like it was going great. Why did you freak out?”

“You know how I suck at Skee-ball?” I ask, and she laughs.

“And baseball, and corn hole, and volleyball, and basketball, and…”

“Okay. I suck at anything to do with aiming, except for shooter games.”

“Yes, I’m well aware of that.”

“Well, he decided after he won, he wanted to teach me how to hit the target.”

“And?”

“You know those movies where the guy tries to teach the girl how to shoot a bow and arrow?” I ask as I walk over to grab a T-shirt and shorts for bed.

“Oooh. Please tell me he pressed your back against his chest and guided you through rolling a ball,” she practically screeches in excitement.

“Okay, when you say it that way, it just sounds weird.”

“But is that what happened?” she asks.

“Yes. He held my hip with one hand and my hand with the other. I hit the one-hundred-point hole.”

“No fucking way. So, all it takes is Mr. Bigshot to show you how it’s done? So, then what happened?”

I quickly pull on the shirt and shorts before lying down on my stomach across the foot of the bed. She sits next to me and pulls my head onto her lap so she can detangle my damp hair. She’s done this for a while now, taking care of me like I’m the sister she never had…Neither of us had. It’s calming. It makes me recall faint, fuzzy memories of my mother from when she was alive.

“I turned around, and he had his arms open for a hug. I got so excited and jumped into his arms. He lifted me into the air and kissed my cheek before setting me back down. Then he asked if he could kiss me.”

“Fuck yes! Please tell me you said yes.”

“No,” I say, but when she shrieks like she’s about to hit me, I continue. “I simply said, ‘Kiss me’. So he did. And holy fuck can that man kiss.”