Page 9 of Never Too Late

“I just wanted to come home for a while. I have enough credits to graduate early, but since I’m planning to go to med school, that wouldn’t be smart. I need to stay on top of everything and need to dedicate my time to research,” I whispered. “And I missed you, I wanted to be close to you. I don’t even know if I will go.”

That stopped her in her tracks and she turned to me, a stern look in her eyes.

Uh oh, whenever she’s got that look, I knew I was in trouble and there was nothing left to do, but do what she said. She was pretty laid back, but whenever she meant business, she would pull the look she was sporting right then and her word would be law.

“Now, you listen to me, Sophie Moore, you are going to that school. Since you were a kid, you talked about becoming a doctor, and I may not know much, but I know you worked yourself ragged to get into it. So, fuck yes, you’re going.”

It should be said that while other grandmothers were sweet and balked at even the slightest bad word, mine was more in your face, do as she pleased and had a mouth of a sailor.

She put her hand on my cheek and got in my face, her voice warm. “And I’m so very proud of you, my darling girl. You wouldn’t believe how much even if I had the words to tell you.” She stood up straight and slapped my cheek. “Besides, I already told everyone that you’re going to be a doctor, you don’t want to make me a fucking liar, do you?”

I rubbed my face and through a smile muttered, “No, I wouldn’t want that.”

“Good, now let’s go back so I can get that woman drunk and loosen up a little.”

We walked a full circle around the square and got back to Mrs. McConnell. But she wasn’t alone.

When I saw who it was, I stopped, not able to take another step. “Um... Grandma, I think I’m gonna…”

“Don’t be a fool, he’s not going to bite you.”

God.

God.

Dylan Thomas.

He was the most beautiful boy I have ever seen. All through high school, I watched him grow up and fill out. I haven’t seen him for almost four years, but in those years he grew up into a beautiful man.

Tall.

I could see, even under his coat, that he still worked out (probably as religiously as he did in high school) and kept his muscled body the same. His jeans were plated to his thighs and with every move, he tested the seams of it. He had a knit cap over his dirty blond, almost brown, hair.

“Hey,” he said when we came into his line of sight. His voice was so deep, I felt as if he was scratching my insides with it, in the best possible way. Wow, time sure did him good.

“Hi.” I couldn’t look at him. I was afraid I would fall down on my knees and begged him to take me into his arms and finally kiss me, as I daydreamed all throughout school he would do.

Unfortunately, he didn’t even notice I was alive, let alone shown any interest in me.

“Hi, Dylan. Didn’t think you would be still here,” my grandmother said.

Why wouldn’t he be here? Where was he living? The questions swirled in my head.

“I decided to take leave and stay with my mom.”

“Ah, I’m so sorry. How is she?”

They carried on with their conversation and I hung on every word, trying to appear as if I wasn’t listening.

“She’s still lost, doesn’t know what to do now, actually. So I figured it would be good if I stayed here with her until…”

And then I remembered. A few months before, he lost his dad. He woke up, got his coffee, and collapsed. It was his heart, and they never knew he had a heart condition.

His mom couldn’t cope but at the time and descended into depression. But I thought she was doing better with time.

“I’m so sorry about your dad,” I said softly, and I hoped he could see how much I meant it. I knew how much and how deep losing a parent hurt.

“Thanks, Sophie.” It was the first time he said my name. Ever. It wasn’t the right moment but I couldn’t help it, my name coming off his lips sent a shockwave through my system and ended up in one single pulse between my legs.