Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 61867 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61867 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Exactly. He remembered perfectly. I have to stop myself from leaping on him right here in front of Tanya and everyone else in the diner.
“Sounds great,” she replies. “Anything to drink?”
“Couple of orange juices,” Jameson says. “Thanks so much.”
Tanya heads off to the kitchen, and Jameson takes my hands in his as I lean across the table. I’m simply overwhelmed by what’s happening right now. It may have only been three years since Jameson left, but how long is three years really? I mean, I don’t want to sound like some kind of philosophy or physics professor, but how long we perceive time is relative, isn’t it?
Three years when you’re having fun may end up flying by, and then one day you’re standing there looking around wondering where all the time went. But three years when you’ve lost your dad, your best friend, and you’ve suddenly become the caretaker for your mom may feel like more years than you can count.
And that’s how I’ve felt. Like many years have passed since Jameson left, and each of them has crept slowly, like a car in drive but without anyone even pressing on the gas as I watch myself just trying to make something out of a life that I was left with after everyone I ever cared for left me.
But now Jameson is back, and we’re sitting at Becky’s Diner again, ordering our same breakfast meals together just like we used to, and my head is absolutely spinning as I try to make sense of how to handle this.
A few moments later, Tanya returns with our orange juices, and we do our customary joke-toast before taking a sip and setting our glasses down in front of us.
“So…” I say hesitantly. “Are you planning on staying? I mean, you’re not going back to Albania, right?”
Jameson chuckles and shakes his head. “No, I will not be returning to Albania. I am here for good, and I actually wanted to mention something to you–”
Just then, the bells above the door chime, and I look up to see three men enter.
I feel my insides sink and my heart go stiff. If there was one single possible thing in the universe that could happen that this moment that could completely ruin my morning, it just walked in the door.
“What?” Jameson asks, reading my reaction instantly, which must be plastered all over my face. “What is it?”
He doesn’t even wait for me to respond. He simply turns around and glances over his shoulder as the three guys enter and go to the booth on the other end of the diner.
“Problem?” he asks, turning back to me.
By now, I’m slunk down in my seat, doing my best to hide from sight. I nod and grimace. “Chad,” I whisper.
“Chad? Who the hell is Chad? That guy?”
Completely unfazed and unintimidated, Jameson points, but I quickly snatch his arm and pull it back down onto the table.
“Don’t!” I hiss. “Don’t do that. Don’t draw his attention over here!”
Jameson’s eyes narrow as his protective masculine instincts kick in. He looks right at me. “Iris. Who is this guy and what is your problem with him?”
This is the last thing I need right now.
I peek over Jameson’s shoulder to see what’s going on, but so far, Chad hasn’t noticed me yet. He’s just laughing with two of his friends. I don’t recognize them, which is probably a good thing.
“He’s my…” I can barely get the words out of my mouth.
“Yes?” Jameson is looking at me the way a detective must look at a crime scene.
“My ex.”
Jameson’s eyes go wide. “Ex?” he asks. “As in, ex-boyfriend?”
“Well, yes and no,” I say quickly.
“What the heck does that mean?”
“You were gone for three years, Jameson, okay?” I reply. “I got lonely. I didn’t even know if you were ever going to come back. I didn’t even know if you were alive!”
“I thought you said last night was your first time?” he asks, looking completely flabbergasted.
“It was!” I hiss, grabbing his hands tightly. “That’s exactly what the problem was. Chad was pushing me to put out for him, and when I wouldn’t, he broke up with me. He was actually a huge asshole about it too.”
A look comes over Jameson’s face—that same look that I remember from when we were younger and I would tell him something and he would go into his protective mode.
“He didn’t try to force you, did he?”
I look down and away, hiding my eyes from his, hoping he won’t read my face like he was always so good at doing. “No.”
But it doesn’t work. Jameson takes me by the chin and makes me to look up at him. “Iris,” he says, his voice filled with concern. “Tell me the truth. Did he?”
My stomach turns. I’ve put all this behind me—at least I thought I had. In fact, I thought I’d put Jameson behind me until he showed up at the club last night. I had to if I was ever going to be able to move on with my life. And now there is just so much going on that I can barely process it all.