Page 25 of Jesse

“A few?” he says, raising his eyebrows. “Please. You thought you knew me, didn’t you?”

“Maybe.”

“Hey, do you know me?”

“What?”

“I feel like we’ve met before. It’s just… I’d have remembered a girl like you. So I don’t get where this is coming from.”

“I’d have remembered a guy like you, too,” I say. Then regret it. Then don’t regret it. Then regret it again.

I liked him back then. I really did. Faults and all. But if I had known he was this guy underneath? And he didn’t walk out on me with no reason, or warning, or explanation? I would’ve been way more devastated.

I would not have been angry, I would’ve been sad.

And I’m not sure sad would’ve gotten me here. To this place, as this woman, with this company, and enough money in the bank to throw away ten million dollars on a second chance.

Hold up, Emma. What the fuck are you talking about? This is no second chance! This is a goddamned kidnapping!

“So,” Jesse says, standing up and tossing our napkins into a nearby trash can. “Wanna continue? Or have I really scared you off now?”

“What?” I say, just staring at him.

“Our date? Or are you done? I won’t blame you if you’re done. Hell, if some strange dude just told me that story on our first date, I’d be done too.”

“First date,” I say. “Is there a second one lined up I don’t know about?”

He sucks in a breath of air, shrugs, then says, “Maybe? I hope so. Because I don’t know what it is about you, Emma Dumas. But I feel like we’ve been here before. Not this place or time, obviously. But you feel so familiar. And I like you. So…”

“I was mean,” I say.

“I know. I like that too. For some odd reason I find it charming.”

“I bought you,” I say.

He nods. “Yup. You bought me.”

“You don’t even know me.”

He points his finger at me. “I know. But. I feel like I do. So what do you say? Wanna go up to my lake house and talk some more? Maybe figure out where we know each other from?”

“You’re so sure we do?” I ask.

He nods. “I just know it. We’ve met before. And I’m dying to know why I walked away. Because that makes no sense to me.”

“Me either,” I mumble.

He laughs and extends his hand. “Come on. Let’s blow this place. I can’t take the competition. Those little boys are gonna start pulling your hair and calling you names to get your attention if we stay here any longer.”

I take his hand. I know I shouldn’t. I know with every fiber of my being that I should not take his hand.

But I do it anyway.

And yup. Sure enough, those sparks I felt back when I was eighteen… they’re back. Stronger than ever. It’s like the past thirteen years didn’t happen. It’s like that was some alternate reality. Some other path not taken. And this is the real path we took. Us. Together. This whole time. Never been apart since.

He leads me over to the car, opens the passenger side, and waits for me to get in before closing it and walking around to his side.

When he closes his door he pauses. Then looks at me and says, “Here, let me help you with that, Emma,” as he reaches over my legs and pulls my seatbelt across my lap. Clipping it into the buckle.