When Sparks Fly (91 page)

Jordyn

I step out of the shower, wrap the towel around me, and walk into the bedroom. Jeremy is sitting on my bed.

“What the fuck are you doing in here?”

“Waiting for you. I thought maybe we could go out to dinner tonight,” he says.

“Why in the hell would I want to go out to dinner with you?”

“Just thought we could see if there was a way to rekindle our feelings for each other, Jordyn.”

“You’re delusional and the last man on earth I want to spend Valentine’s Day with. Now, get out of my house.” I walk into the huge closet and close the door, pull on a pair of clean yoga pants and a fuzzy white sweater and socks.

When I exit, Jeremy is still sitting on my bed. I pick up a book from my bedside table and aim it at his head. “Get out of my house, Jeremy.”

“Jesus, Jordyn. Calm the fuck down. Look, I’m just trying to be nice, take you out. I mean, what are you going to do? Stay around here, pining away for your little flyboy?”

Another book whizzes through the air, barely missing his head. “Don’t you ever speak of Grant, do you hear me? Now, get out.”

“He doesn’t want you, Jordyn. And even if he did, he could never give you the life I can.” His voice is low, soft and sweet. He’s sitting on the side of the bed, his hands stretched out to me. It’s endearing – or would be, if I didn’t know him better.

“I swear to you, Jeremy,” I say, picking up another book. “I will not miss a third time. Get. Out. Of. My. House. Now!”

He sits there and I throw the book at him. He dodges out of the way before it hits his temple. “Okay, okay. Have it your way. I’m leaving, you crazy ass bitch.”

The front slams and I return the books to the bedside table. My phone is lying in the middle of the bed. I pick it up and scrolled through the text messages, voicemail, and recent phone calls, hoping there will be something from Grant.

Nothing.

I want badly to talk to him. Explain to him what happened and why I didn’t meet him that day in Chicago.

“No time like the present,” I mutter, pressing his speed dial button. The phone is new, but all the contact information remained. I asked Carlos to take me to the Apple store one day so that I could make sure all my information was restored from my back-up. If I left it up to my parents, I’m sure they would’ve deleted everything they deemed unnecessary or disruptive to my life.

The line rings a couple of times. I take a deep breath and slowly let it out. A couple more rings.
I can do this
.

“This is Grant. Leave a message.”

Wow
. It’s been so long since I heard his voice. It stirs everything in me – my emotions, my nerves. My breathing is completely erratic. And, God, there’s such a longing in me now. I just want to be with him. I don’t care how, or when, or where. I just want to be with Grant again.

I press the end button. This is not something you do over voicemail. I hope he sees my missed call and tries me back, but after an hour of waiting, I start on plan B.

Grabbing my writing pad, I pour out everything. The coma, the injuries to my back, the amnesia. How he had been the one to bring back all my memories that day I watched the jets fly overhead. The lies my family had been feeding me. And how they are still trying to force me to marry Jeremy, but I will never give in to that – not ever.

I tell him how no matter what happened to me, I felt him with me. How I had learned to dream because of him. That life is something I want to explore and experience, and I hope he will come with me.

I place the letter in an envelope and lock it in my desk drawer. I need to figure out how to get it to Grant. Scrolling through the contacts on my phone, I come across Caitlyn’s name.

She was in Tahoe that weekend. Grant told me that she and P-LOC continued to date after the weekend was over, also. Maybe she knows how to get the letter to Grant.

I crawl into bed and snuggle into my pillow. Tomorrow is a new day. I’ll call Caitlyn, find out if she’s still dating P-LOC, and figure out the best way to get to Grant.

Even though I’m alone, this is one of the better Valentine’s Days I’ve ever had. I feel closer to Grant than I have in a very long time.

‡
Chapter Seven

Grant

March

The mailbag is being distributed. I know my grandmother sent me a care package or two. She never disappoints. I open the first box and pull out the bag of Doritos. I shove three chips in my mouth as a thick white envelope is passed to me.

“Whadafuckisdat?” Pieces of Doritos fly from my mouth.

“Hey, Shitbag, how about you fucking chew and swallow?” Beavis looks at the envelope in my outstretched hand. “That –” he says pointing at it. “Is what we call a letter. I know it’s been a while since you’ve received one…”

“Kiss my ass, Beavis.”

“Don’t tease me, Cary. You know how I long to have my luscious lips on your sweet back door. It makes me all tingly inside.” He puckers his lips and bats his eyes.

I turn the letter over and glance at the return address. Jordyn Keyes.
What the fuck?

“You gonna open that or waiting until you’re alone in your room?” Beavis peers over my shoulder. “Oh, my… a letter from Jordyn. I hope you have some lube, dude. You don’t want to get all raw rubbing one out tonight.”

Beeper stares at me. My chest tightens. I want to tear the letter open, read every word she’s written, get lost in whatever she has to say. But there’s another part of me that wants to tear the whole damn letter up. Make confetti out of it, and toss it into the sea.

I put it in my desk drawer. I can’t deal with it right now. Too many emotions are racing through me, twisting my gut into a knot and squeezing the life out of my heart.

“You’re not going to read it?” Beeper asks, his voice low and hushed.

I swivel around in my chair to face him. “Why? So I can get a blow-by-blow of her decision making process? How she finally figured out that her family was right? That Jeremy is the better man for her to marry? Or better yet – that she actually loves the guy?” I shake my head. “No, I don’t want or need to hear Jordyn’s excuses. She’s moved on. It’s time for me to move on.”

“And if you’re wrong?”

“Did you see the fucking thickness of that envelope? I know you haven’t had the pleasure of receiving a ‘Dear John’ letter, but I have. Trust me, I’m not wrong.”

“Dangerous game you’re playing, my friend.”

I know what’s in that letter. Too many times in the past I’ve doubted it and read every word of long-assed letters like this… and they all ended the same. The girl, happy with another guy. Me, heartbroken and alone.

Not this time. Not from Jordyn. Those words will kill any spirit I have left in me.

‡
Chapter Eight

Jordyn

June

Caitlyn slides onto the seat across from me. It’s a beautiful Northern California day, and we’re sitting outside at our new favorite cafe. We’ve met here a few times for lunch since Valentine’s Day.

Today, she’s all smiles.

“So, it’s a go for Tahoe,” she squeals. “The ship pulled in yesterday, and they’re not supposed to go out again for at least six months, but Daniel says it’s probably going to be at least a year. I don’t care at this point, as long as they’re here for July fourth so I can have my beach wedding.”

I smile and take a long sip of my iced tea. I’m still getting used to Daniel being P-LOC. Grant never called him by his real name.

It’s been three months since I sent the letter to Grant, but I haven’t heard a word from him. Caitlyn sent P-LOC a care package at the same time, and he received it.

So, either the letter is lost at sea or Grant really isn’t interested in having a relationship with me.

“You’re going to be a bridesmaid still, right?” Caitlyn asks, squeezing lemon into her water.

“Of course.” But I’m less enthusiastic than when she first asked me three months ago. At that time, I thought I would be able to spend the time with Grant, rekindle the feelings that started to bud before my accident. But with each passing day, it’s looking more and more like this is going to be an uncomfortable weekend.

‡
Chapter One

Jordyn

I check into the hotel in Tahoe on Wednesday evening and briefly consider getting the same room I had last time, but Carlos and Dusty made the trip with me. Instead I got the last two-room suite. We joke on the way up in the elevator that it’s probably going to be next to the Honeymoon Suite, and we won’t get any rest after the wedding.