A Season for Hope (Sarra Cannon) (8 page)

“To say the least,” I say. “She’s recently come back to town and it’s been tough. The truth is, I don’t think he ever really got over her, you know? I was always second best, in a way.”

“That’s not possible,” Judd says. “You deserve more than that.”

Guilt twists my heart. “You don’t know that,” I say. “I’ve done some bad things. Things I’m not proud of.”

“We all have,” he says. “That doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to be someone’s first choice.”

I look over at him. The only light out here is a distant lamp and the light of a nearly full moon. If he knew the truth of how Preston and I got together, he wouldn’t be saying that.

“Preston never really told me he was still in love with her, but I think I always knew,” I say. “And when she got back, things changed between us.”

“Did they get back together or something?” he asks, his voice gentle.

“No, she fell for someone else, but Preston grew more and more distant over the summer. Then this fall his twin sister, Penny, took off for a few months with his best friend. When she came back, we all found out she was pregnant. She almost lost the baby and was on bedrest for a few weeks. Preston was really great to her. He barely left her side. We didn’t see each other much.”

I shrug, feeling the sting of fresh tears. I push them back, so tired of always being one step away from a complete breakdown. Talking about this with someone new is hard, but the fact that it’s a guy I’m interested in just makes it harder.

“He broke things off?”

I nod. “About three weeks ago,” I say. “I guess I saw it coming, but I think I was in denial for a while. When he finally said the words, it was devastating.”

Judd rests his hand on top of mine. “I’m sorry.”

I sniff, doing everything I can to hold back the tears. He’s already seen me cry twice. I can’t let this be a third. If there really is a first-date rule book, I’m certain crying about breaking up with your ex is at the very top of the ‘
don’t
’ page in bright red capital letters.

“I can’t believe I’m telling you all this,” I say.

“I didn’t mean to make you upset,” he says. “I just wanted you to know it’s okay to talk about it with me. In my experience, it’s better to get this kind of stuff out in the open right from the start. No secrets. No surprises.”

“Does that mean you’re going to tell me about your ex-girlfriends now?” I ask. “Because I’m really looking forward to that.”

He laughs. “Are you being sarcastic?”

“No,” I say in an exaggerated voice. “I love to hear about ex-girlfriends on a first date. Especially your sex life, don’t leave those details out.”

He squeezes my hand. “I’m afraid my story isn’t very interesting anyway,” he says, laughing. “I was a geek in high school and didn’t really date anyone until I got to college. I dated a few girls here and there, then I met Mandy. We dated for about a year. I fell head over heels in love with her, thought we were going to get married and have babies together.”

His confession takes my breath away. Guys don’t really admit this kind of stuff very often. “What happened?”

“Oh, we’re still together,” he says, casually. “She’s at home with our three kids.”

He says it so deadpan, I almost think he’s serious. Then, he breaks out in that sly smile of his and I smack him hard on the shoulder.

“You asshole,” I scream. “I thought you were serious.”

He holds his shoulder and leans away from me, laughing so hard it echoes across the darkness.

“I’m sorry, but the look on your face was priceless,” he says.

“I could kill you for that,” I say.

He stands and tosses his trash into the metal can beside the row of benches. “Things were getting way too serious,” he says. “I had to lighten the mood.”

“By making me think you were here with me while your wife sits at home with the babies?” I ask. “You have a twisted mind.”

“Seriously,” he says. “I’m sweet.”

“Sweet and apparently twisted.” I roll my eyes and pretend to be upset, but I can’t keep up the act for long. He’s too adorable.

“What really happened?” I ask.

He takes my hand again and we start walking down the boardwalk toward the pier.

“She dumped me,” he says. “For her ex-boyfriend. It devastated me at the time, but then I came here and slowly, day-by-day, it stopped hurting so much.”

I swallow, thinking about Preston and how I’ve spent the last few weeks barely able to get out of bed every morning.

Knowing he’s been there makes this better somehow.

We walk together for a while without saying anything. The waves crash against the shore just steps away from us, the high tide at its peak. A cold breeze whips past us, and I lean into him as we walk, letting his body be my shield.

“Do you want to walk up on the pier?” he asks.

“Sure,” I say.

He leads me up onto the wooden pier. It’s only about seven-thirty and the fishermen are taking advantage of the changing tide. They hang their sturdy poles over the side, many of them baiting hooks and casting out into the dark abyss beyond.

Lights like lamp-posts are situated every ten feet or so, illuminating the worn boards along the length of the pier.

We walk all the way down to the very end and find an empty spot along the railing to stand and stare out at the water. Because of the lights, we can just make out the water below. From here, it looks dark navy in color, peaks of white frothing up here and there and catching the light.

I place my feet on the first rail and lean over the edge to look straight down and a rush of fear goes through me. I welcome it, loving that feeling when my stomach seems to drop out from under me like I’m on a rollercoaster.

Judd puts his hands around my waist, as if holding onto me for dear life.

I laugh and step back down to his level. “Scared?”

“You were freaking me out,” he says. “Don’t lean so far over. What if you fell?”

I lean one arm all the way over the side and raise my eyebrows at him. “What about this? Is this scary?”

He pretends to hide his eyes. “I’m serious, don’t do that.”

I throw my arms around him. “I’m sorry,” I say. “Are you scared of heights or something?”

“No,” he says. “I’m just scared of really deep, possibly shark-infested waters. Especially when it’s dark outside. Haven’t you ever seen Jaws?”

I sigh. “There aren’t any great white sharks off the coast here,” I say.

“How do you know?” he asks. He leans cautiously over the side and looks down. “There could be anything under the curtain of that darkness.”

I put my hands on the wooden railing and lift my chin as the wind blows across my cheeks. My ears are freezing, so I lift my hands up to my bun and let my hair down.

Inside the center of the bun, my hair is still a little bit wet. I run my hands through it and shake my head, letting it fall heavy down my back.

The wind whips it across my face, and I close my eyes.

“This is one of my favorite feelings in the whole world,” I say, breathing in the crisp smell of salt water.

Judd steps closer, warmth radiating from his body. Something in the air between us shifts. He runs a hand through my hair, pushing it behind my ear and placing his palm against my face.

I open my eyes, my heart racing uncontrollably.

When I turn to face him, I recognize the desire in his eyes.

Only tonight, there’s no alcohol to fuel it. It’s pure and real and undeniably hot.

I lean into his hand, my flesh burning under his touch. His fingers twitch slightly, as if he wants to pull me closer.

I want to kiss him, but I’m scared. I don’t want to be rejected again. I don’t want to misunderstand. And I don’t want to fall too fast just because I’m so hungry for something to heal my broken heart.

But I’m helpless to stop it.

When he leans down, he stops short, waiting for me to make a decision. I lift my head ever so slightly and he closes the space between us, his fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of my neck. He takes my mouth more forcefully than he did last night, and my body lights up at the first meeting of our lips.

Our mouths open and our tongues explore, our bodies press together.

My hands slip around his waist. I’m so aware of the fabric at the edge of his shirt, wanting nothing more than to slide my hand under and up. To feel the warm skin underneath and the hard muscles I know I’ll find along his back.

I want it so badly, I almost can’t control the desire.

He releases my lips and moves his kisses along the line of my chin. When he gets closer to my ear, he whispers, “You’re so beautiful.”

I immediately want to tell him he’s wrong. That he must not see me for some reason. But I hold it in, letting myself hear him. Not quite believing, but for the first time in a long time, wanting to believe.

Chapter Twelve

Judd and I spend the rest of the evening walking along the beach, popping into shops along the boardwalk before we finally give in to the cold and head back to his car.

He rolls down the windows of his car and turns on the local radio station, which is playing nonstop Christmas music for the entire month of December. He pops the trunk of his beat-up Toyota and pulls out a large blue blanket.

I laugh. “So not only do you always come prepared with bandages for when you accidentally injure a girl, you also carry a king-size blanket in your trunk for romantic moments.”

His eyes widen. “I can put it back in the trunk if you’re going to make fun of it,” he says, looking so serious. “Big blue has been with me for a long time.”

“Big blue?” I ask. My stomach muscles hurt from laughing so much. “Please tell me you didn’t actually name your blanket.”

“Oh yes I did,” he says. He slams the trunk closed and motions for me to sit down on the hood of the car. I climb up and he wraps the blanket around my shoulders. “I’ve had this blanket since I was a kid. We’ve had some good times.”

“I bet,” I say.

“When my brother and I were little, my mom bought us matching blankets. His was red, mine was blue.” He climbs up beside me and we snuggled close under the blanket. “We used to use them to build tents in the living room. Mom would let us leave them up for days and we’d sleep under there and hang out talking all night long. Those were the days.”

I smile. “I didn’t know you had a brother.”

He nods. “Jonathan. He was two years older than me.” There’s a sadness in his voice and when I turn to look at him, I see that his eyes are shining.

Then I realize he used the word ‘was’.

My heart tightens in my chest. “What happened?” I ask, my voice almost a whisper.

He takes a long breath in, then shakes his head. “I never talk about this,” he says. He looks at me and as our eyes meet, I can’t help but feel there’s something real here between us. “He died four years ago. Acute myeloid leukemia. By the time the doctors gave an official diagnosis, the disease was too far advanced. He needed a bone marrow transplant to survive and they couldn’t find a donor in time.”

I reach for his hand under the blanket. “I’m so sorry,” I say. I know the words aren’t enough for what he’s been through, but I don’t know what else to say.

“His disease is what made me want to be a doctor,” he says. “If there was some way I could help, even just a little bit, so that someone else doesn’t have to go through that with someone they love…”

His voice trails off and we sit together in silence, the only sound the beating of the waves on the nearby shore. I lay my head against his shoulder and he wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me closer.

Finally, he straightens and I sit up.

“I didn’t mean to totally ruin the mood of the date,” he says with a laugh.

“You didn’t.”

“A little,” he says. “I don’t even know why I told you about Jonathan. Especially on our first date. For some reason, I just feel like I can be myself around you. Like no matter what I say, you aren’t going to judge me or hurt me.”

A shiver goes through my body despite the heat we’ve created under the blanket. “I feel the same way,” I say.

And I do. I’ve spent so many years trying to be the person I thought Preston and our friends wanted me to be that I never really felt comfortable just being myself. It’s strange and different and wonderfully freeing.

Our eyes meet in the half-darkness and my heart begins to beat faster. His grasp around my waist tightens and he pulls me closer, his fingers digging into my hip. I turn my body slightly toward him, our legs pressed firmly against each other.

Judd leans down, his lips finding mine in one breathless moment. And this kiss is different. It isn’t just a kiss of discovery or new attraction. This kiss is deeper, less tentative. As if we’re sure of each other now, knowing this is more than something physical. Knowing we can trust each other in ways we weren’t expecting.

When we part, I hide my head against his chest. There’s something stirring deep within me I wasn’t expecting. Something I never could have hoped for after losing Preston. Something I never knew I could feel.

“When can I see you again?” Judd asks. His voice is husky and deep, full of desire.

Is tomorrow too soon? I’ve never really done this before. With Preston, the beginning was a game of hide and seek. Stolen moments. I’ve never dated someone like Judd before. I don’t want to scare him off, but I guess if nothing’s scared him off yet, telling him I want to see him as soon as possible shouldn’t be too bad either.

“Is it wrong to say I want to see you tomorrow?” I ask.

He smiles and it sends an electric jolt through my insides. “Not at all,” he says. “I was really hoping you’d say that.”

“The only problem is that I’ve gotten really behind on school lately,” I say. “If I don’t nail my finals, I’m going to be in some serious trouble in a few of my classes. I’ve got to spend all next week studying as much as possible.”

“We can study together,” he says.

I turn my head to the side and cut my eyes toward him. “You’re too distracting,” I say. “We won’t get anything done.”

He laughs. “I swear,” he says. “We’ll just study and I promise not to distract you too much. Unless we’re taking a break.”

I think about it for a second. It’s definitely tempting. I want to spend more time with him before Christmas break. I don’t even know if he’s going home for the break or sticking around, but I don’t want to miss out on seeing him just so I can study.

“Okay,” I say. “We’ll try it for one night and see how it goes.”

“Tomorrow night?”

“I get off work at four,” I say.

“Perfect,” he says. “I’ll come by the cafe and pick you up. We can head back to my place if you want.”

“I want,” I say.

Judd pulls me into another kiss, and for the first time since Preston and I broke up, I’m looking forward to tomorrow.

Chapter Thirteen

I’m practically floating when I walk into my apartment late that evening.

Monica is lying on the couch in her pj’s watching TV and eating popcorn. She has all the lights off except the strings of Christmas lights we’ve tacked to the walls.

She eyes me curiously. “What in the world happened to you?” she asks. She grabs the remote and mutes the television. “You look like the cat who ate the canary.”

I cannot control the huge smile that spreads across my face. I lean against the front door and sigh. “Nothing. Just the most magical, surprising night of my life.”

Her eyes nearly pop out of her head. She clears a spot for me beside her on the couch and pats her hand on the cushions. “Spill it,” she demands.

I move to sit beside her and am not surprised to see she’s watching old episodes of Firefly. Again. She’s obsessed with that show.

“Judd came in to The Cup today,” I say.

She bounces beside me and when I look over, her lips are pressed together so tight, they’re turning white.

“At first, it was a complete disaster,” I say. “I spilled coffee all over myself and had to change into the boss’s oversized t-shirt. I kept tripping over chairs and knocking things over every time I saw him glance my way. I thought for sure this guy must think I’m a lunatic. I expected him to leave any second and never come back.”

Monica turns her body all the way toward me. She’s shoving popcorn in her mouth like I’m the best entertainment she’s had in weeks. “And?”

“And he never left,” I say. I know I’m blushing because my entire face is red hot. I can’t stop smiling. “He stayed until we were the only two left in the cafe, and when we finally started talking, he asked me out.”

“Ahhh!” Monica nearly spills her popcorn as she throws her arms around my neck. “This is awesome. When are you guys going out?”

“We already did. Sort of,” I say. I tell her all about our hotdogs and our walk to the pier. I leave out the bit about his brother, because he seemed kind of protective about that information, but I tell her everything else.

“I knew something like this would happen,” she says. “You just needed to get out of the house and put yourself back on the market.”

“I’m not a house,” I say. “It’s not like I was looking for someone new.”

“That’s what they say, though, isn’t it? Love comes along when you least expect it.”

I roll my eyes. “This isn’t love, Mon. We just met.”

Still, there’s a tingle that goes through me from head to toe just thinking about Judd and the possibility of a future with someone new. It might not be love, but it’s definitely like.

“That’s how it starts for everyone, though,” she says. “When are you going to see him again? Did you guys talk about it?”

“Tomorrow,” I say, smiling again. “We’re going to have a study date.”

She laughs. “Right. A study date.”

I push her with my elbow. “We’re really going to study,” I say in my own defense. “If I fail my exams, I’m going to be on probation. I really can’t afford that.”

“Well, I’m very happy for you,” she says. “This is exactly what the doctor ordered. If you had spent one more day moping around this apartment, I was going to have to move out or kick you out, one or the other.”

I scrunch my nose. “Was it really that bad?”

“Worse,” she says. “But it’s really good to see you smiling again.”

I grab a handful of her popcorn and she turns the sound back on. While we watch TV, I think about how good it feels to be smiling again and how quickly Judd was able to turn me from depression to happiness.

At the same time, though, I can’t help but wonder if I’m making a big mistake getting involved with someone new. What if he breaks my heart just like Preston did? Would I be able to survive another bad breakup so soon?

I know I’m getting way ahead of myself. One date doesn’t make him my boyfriend, but I already feel like I’m falling for him. It’s all happening way too fast, and I’m terrified if I go any deeper, I’ll just be opening myself up to a pain my heart can’t handle.

Chapter Fourteen

Work seems to drag by the next day. Every single time the bell over the door rings, my heart leaps and I look up hoping to see Judd walk through.

And every time it isn’t him, my heart sinks back down into my chest.

I’m scared of how much I want to see him. Is this normal for a new relationship? Can I even call what we have so far a relationship? I have no idea what I’m doing or how this is supposed to go, and I feel like a lost puppy.

We haven’t even talked about what we’re looking for right now. Maybe he isn’t interested in a relationship. I know medical school can be extremely tough and he said he has to work extra hours for his scholarship project. Does he even have time for a real girlfriend or is this just a fling?

Of course, if it was a fling, he would have slept with me that first night in the bar instead of trying to slow things down.

These are the neurotic thoughts occupying my mind throughout my shift. The closer it gets to my four o’clock shift end, the more neurotic and paranoid I become.

What if he isn’t even coming? I don’t have his phone number or anything, so it would be easy for him to ditch me if he wanted to.

By ten minutes to four, I’ve completely convinced myself he isn’t coming and that he doesn’t want to see me again. I must have done something last night to mess this whole thing up. And maybe he’s really not as good looking and sweet as I thought he was and he’s doing me a favor by blowing me off. That’s when the bell sounds and he finally walks in.

I’m cleaning off a table in the far corner when he casually walks up to the counter and orders a caramel mocha. His eyes drift toward me and he winks.

I almost pass out in a mix of relief and desire. Yeah, he’s definitely every bit as good looking as I remember. He’s wearing a pair of dark blue jeans and a long-sleeve cotton t-shirt that shows off the defined muscles underneath. His hair is slightly wavier than I’ve seen it before, and I wonder if that’s because of the misty rain outside today. Whatever it is, I like it.

“Hey,” he says, walking over to the table where I’m cleaning.

“Hi,” I say back, feeling like a teenager with a new crush.

“Are we still on for four?”

Fuck yes.

“Yeah, I just need a few minutes to cash out and clean up in the back,” I say. “I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

He nods and takes a seat in an empty booth. He doesn’t have his backpack with him today, but he pulls a book out of his back pocket and opens it to a page marked with a tattered scrap of paper.

I stare at the book cover as I make my way back to the kitchen. King. He’s reading Stephen King, my all-time favorite author. I nearly swoon as I turn the corner and disappear into the back room.

He’s ruggedly handsome, loves The Beatles, reads books in his spare time, and still carries a sentimental blanket from his childhood in his car. He’s too perfect.

Which means there has to be a catch, right? If something—or someone—seems too good to be true, it probably is. Or at least that’s what my mother has always told me. There has to be something wrong with him.

I warn my heart to be careful. To hold back and put up walls to protect myself.

But deep inside, I already know I’m in too deep. Just a few days with this guy and already I care about him more than I should. Whatever outer shell I had been keeping up around my heart, it broke that night while I was dancing. And when Judd appeared out of nowhere like a gift from the universe, he slipped inside to the place where I am most vulnerable.

It’s way too late for being careful.

Chapter Fifteen

When we pull up to Judd’s apartment, I’m surprised to find he lives in the same complex as Preston. I can’t help but take a quick look around for Preston’s car. He always parks in the same spot just in front of his building, but the spot is empty and I breathe a sigh of relief.

I don’t feel like facing him today.

In the three weeks since we broke up, I’ve only run into Preston a handful of times, and every time I feel like the victim of a drive-by shooting.

The first time was by far the worst. I had been crying for three days straight and was rushing to class. My hair was in a messy, knotted ponytail and I hadn’t had time to put on any makeup. Not even lipgloss. I was wearing a pair of yoga pants with a hole in the knee and a baggy sweatshirt. Normally I wouldn’t be caught dead looking like that in public, but I’d missed so many classes I knew I couldn’t afford to miss another. I woke up late and had no choice but to run out looking like a homeless person.