Authors: J. L. Berg
“What do you mean, Garrett?”
“Why would she come see you after—” I started but stopped myself.
“I have no ill will toward that girl, Garrett Finnegan. I loved that child, and I still do. That hasn’t changed, no matter what happened between you two.”
I grumbled under my breath and continued to pick at my muffin. It was still delicious, and that pissed me off.
“You need to find a way to move past your anger,” my nosy mother said.
My eyes flew up to hers. She’d set down the cards she was going through, and she was now looking at me with that motherly expression that made me feel like a small child again. It was the same expression I’d seen over and over throughout my youth, the one that told me I was being stubborn and needed to get over myself.
Well, I had news for her. I might be stubborn, but I had grounds this time.
“Mom, you don’t understand—”
“I do,” she interrupted.
“You couldn’t possibly.”
“No? I couldn’t possibly understand how difficult it might be for a young woman—still a child herself and probably under great pressure at home and elsewhere—to make a monumental life decision?”
How could she possibly know anything?
I looked into her eyes, the same eyes that had been staring back at me since birth, and I knew she was calling my bluff. She knew.
“How did you find out?” I asked quietly.
“You were never good at hiding things, Garrett,” she answered.
“The note.”
She simply nodded. “I wish you had come to us. I knew you were hurt and grieving, but you wouldn’t talk to me. I was afraid if I said something, you would lash out and tell me I didn’t trust you. I was so scared, Garrett.”
“She aborted our child, Mom,” I whispered.
“She was eighteen, Garrett. Have you ever asked her about it?”
“No, I can’t. I don’t want to know the details. I couldn’t live with that,” I said, shaking my head.
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out the memories of finding that note and realizing Mia had made that monumental decision—without me. I’d had no idea of where she was, no way of saving that little life Mia and I had created. She had taken that away from me.
“The two of you need to talk about this—maybe not now but soon. I saw the way you looked at her at the funeral. Whatever you think you can’t forgive, you can.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know how, Mom. I love her, but every time I see her, all I see is the past.”
She gave a faint smile and reached for my now empty hand. “Reach into the past and remember the reasons you fell in love. Hold on to that, son, and cherish it. Then, you must start moving forward again.”
Chapter Seventeen
~Garrett~
Letting out a huff of breath I’d been holding since the purr of the engine had died down at the curb, I pushed the doorbell and waited.
How many times had I found myself back at this exact spot, standing on Mia’s doorstep, after I’d sworn I would never return?
How many times did I have to stare at the front of this door, waiting for her face to appear, to realize I’d keep coming back, week after week, day after day?
An enthusiastic bark from inside came barreling toward the front door, and I heard a familiar giggle.
“Hold on, psycho!” Mia laughed, her voice carrying.
She flipped the lock and pulled the door open to find me on the other side, holding flowers like a dork. As her eyes took in the gargantuan bouquet I was balancing with the bag of groceries, I stole a moment to sweep my gaze down, focusing on her every delectable inch. My fingers twitched to touch her again.
“Um…hi,” she said awkwardly.
“Hey,” I responded, finally meeting her gaze.
She looked at me expectantly and shifted on her bare feet.
Oh, right, the flowers.
“My mom wanted me to drop these off for you,” I said, handing over the flowers. “She has about a million bouquets sitting around the house, and she hates the idea of them going to waste, so I’ve been playing delivery boy for most of the afternoon.”
“Oh,” she replied, realizing this was probably the only reason for my visit.
“I, uh…also brought groceries if you’re interested in dinner?”
Her eyes lifted, and I flashed her a quick grin.
“Okay,” she agreed, stepping aside to let me in.
The smell of her citrus-scented skin invaded my senses. I’d spent hours that night in my bedroom licking and kissing every inch of her body in an effort to commit it to memory. My memories hadn’t done it justice, and my body instantly wanted more.
Sam jumped up and down at my invasion into the house. He’d taken a liking to me ever since that day in the shelter, and the feeling was definitely mutual. After giving Sam his proper greeting, we wandered into the kitchen, so I could drop the bag of groceries. Mia started rummaging through her cupboards for a vase.
“Oh…looks like you’ve already gotten a flower delivery today,” I said, noticing a large bouquet of roses on the kitchen table. I fingered a soft petal between my fingers, and then I noticed a card wedged among the many multicolored buds.
“Um…yeah,” she replied.
Mia,
Please come back.
Aiden
“Who’s Aiden? And why does he want you back?” I asked, feeling jealousy beginning to boil in the pit of my stomach. I didn’t even know who the guy was, but I didn’t like him. He wanted Mia to leave?
“Oh, um…Aiden was my boss. He really misses me and wants me to come back. He’s trying anything to get me return to my old job. It’s crazy really,” she answered with a hesitant laugh.
I eyed her suspiciously for a moment as she began to arrange the flowers in a vase.
What was she hiding? And why didn’t she trust me enough to tell me?
Like all mysterious things Mia had done these days, I let it go.
It shouldn’t be my problem.
We’d agreed on one night, and regardless of what my mom had thought, there were some things even love couldn’t forgive. Despite my best efforts to stay away, I couldn’t. Mia had a pull on me that was undeniable, but I would control how far it went.
Leaving the flower subject alone, I walked to the kitchen counter and helped with the groceries.
“What are we making?” she asked.
“Nothing fancy. I just picked up stuff for spaghetti and salad.”
“Okay, sounds great. Let me get the pot for the pasta.”
That was when my torture began.
She bent forward, wiggling, as she strained to pull out the correct pot from her tiny cupboard wedged in the corner of her ancient kitchen. I should have saved myself and looked away, but I couldn’t. My eyes were glued to her.
Did she know her ass was practically hanging out of her shorts?
“Found it!” she exclaimed.
I turned to adjust the hard-on I was now sporting.
“Oh, we’re going to need a colander, too! That’s up here!” she said, pointing to one of the higher cabinets.
She rose on her tiptoes and began reaching and struggling to grab it. Her shirt rode up, and I caught a glimpse of that honey-colored skin I’d spent hours licking and sucking.
“You know, let’s go out!” I said suddenly.
She lowered back down to her feet and turned. “What?”
“We always eat in when I come over. Let’s just go out for a change.”
Otherwise, I’m going to die.
***
Twenty minutes later, we were seated at a local place a couple of blocks down from Mia’s house. It was one of the many perks of where she lived. She could literally walk to almost anything. Of course, the thought of her walking alone didn’t settle well with me.
The waiter came and took our order, and then he scurried away to let us enjoy our drinks. She slowly sipped on her wine and played with the rim of the glass.
“Why didn’t you become a teacher?” I asked. I needed to know how the girl I had known became the woman before me.
“After…after everything that happened, I didn’t think I was worthy.”
Her honest answer shocked me, and I remained quiet for a long time, trying to gather my thoughts.
Had she really been punishing herself this entire time?
“The children of the world deserve great teachers, Mia,” I finally said.
She nodded. “They do. I’m just not sure I’m one of them.”
Giving her a half-grin, I replied, “How do you know until you try?”
I took a swig of my beer and grabbed a roll from the basket the waiter had brought over. She watched as I pulled it apart and buttered it. I smiled as I set half of it on her plate and the other half on mine.
She reached for it and asked, “What about you? Why aren’t you out doing what you love?”
Because I would have to have a working heart left for that
, I wanted to reply.
“I tried after school, but there weren’t any opportunities, so my pretty face landed me a job in sales.” I flashed a wolfish grin in her direction.
She rolled her eyes at me. “Well, what about now?”
I didn’t have an answer for that, but before I had a chance to make one up, we were interrupted.
“Mia?”
She turned her head at the same time I did, and we both found ourselves facing Brent Malcolm. She smiled brightly and politely rose out of her seat to give him a hug. He held her a bit too tightly for my liking, and I had to resist the childish urge to throw a roll at him.
“It’s so good to see you,” Mia said, returning to her seat.
“It’s been too long. Can you believe our high school reunion is just around the corner?” he said, flashing a white toothy grin.
I fucking hate this guy.
“I haven’t really thought about it, but I guess you’re right!” she replied.
“And, Garrett!” he said. “So good to see you, man!”
I nodded, and we shook hands.
“Well, I guess I really missed my opportunity back then, huh? I can’t believe you guys are still together,” he said, obviously fishing for information as he glanced down at Mia’s ringless finger.
“He’s harmless, Garrett. He’s just a flirt. He flirts with all the girls,” Mia said.
“I don’t buy it, Mia. He pays special attention to you, and I don’t like it.”
“Just let it go, babe. I belong to you and no one else.”
Two weeks later, I’d put my fist to Brent’s face after hearing him talk about Mia in the locker room. Mia hadn’t talked to me for two days, thinking I’d overreacted. I never told her about the locker room, not wanting her to know what he’d said, but he’d deserved it, every goddamn bit.
“Oh, um…actually, we aren’t together anymore. We’re just friends now,” Mia said sheepishly.
Brent’s eyes perked up, and he met my hard stare and smiled. My fists tightened under the table as his pearly white smile turned toward Mia.
“Well, how about that?” he said.
He looked around. For what, I didn’t know.
Probably his wife, knowing him.
“I’d love to catch up some more, but I’m out celebrating with a few of my buddies. I just finished my MBA,” he said with a grin.
Smug bastard.
“Let me give you my phone number, Mia, so we can get together later and catch up privately.”
“Oh, um…sure,” Mia said before giving a polite smile as her eyes met mine.
Just friends?
No, we were definitely not just friends.
Mia was mine.
~Mia~
Garrett’s eyes had barely left the piece of paper with Brent’s phone number since he’d walked away. The waiter had come with our food, and I didn’t think Garrett had done more than shovel a few angry bites of chicken parmesan into his mouth. He’d just pushed the rest around his plate.
I was afraid to touch it.
Do I leave it on the table? Or quietly tuck it into my purse before we leave? Do I want to see Brent? No, not really, but it seems rude to leave it on the table. What if he sees it when he’s leaving?
Garrett and I finished our dinner in silence. He handed over his credit card to the waiter, and we waited for him to return. I took the last sip of my wine and wished I had more. I could use a little more liquid courage right now to gather up the courage to ask what was going through that man’s head right now.
Finally, the waiter reappeared, and Garrett angrily scribbled his name on the receipt. I grabbed my purse, and I knew he was waiting to see what I would do. It made me angry, so I grabbed the paper off the table and slipped it into the front pocket of my purse. His eyes flared, and he lunged forward, taking my arm. After escorting us quickly out of the restaurant, he kept the quick pace down the block toward my house. His hand slipped possessively around my waist, and his fingers curled into my hip.
“You’re angry,” I whispered.
His fingers dug further into my hip. “No, Mia, I’m livid,” he answered.
“Why?”
He stopped, forcing people around us to shift their walking patterns, as we stood, frozen, in the middle of the sidewalk. I looked around, afraid of making a scene, but he cupped my chin until all I saw were his intense green eyes.
“Why? Jesus, Mia.” He dropped his hand and stalked away.
He was almost a full block ahead of me until my street appeared, and I caught up.
“You’re not my boyfriend, Garrett. You can’t tell me who I can and cannot see,” I said. I had no idea why I was pushing this. I had no intentions of seeing Brent, but it angered me that he thought he had a say in it.