Page 85 of Never Really Over

“I like the sound of good stuff.”

With another growl, he kisses me hard. It’s a kiss that’s meant to be a reminder of what’s between us and I love it.

Regrettably, I let him go inside to grab the things we need, squirming on the chair to alleviate the ache he caused between my legs.

Fanning my face, I whisper, “That man is going to be the death of me if we don’t get to the good stuff soon.”

Chapter Sixteen

Colt

Nothin’on You

I runsome cold water over my wrists, willing my hard-on to go away, at least until we get this taken care of. I promised myself I wouldn’t go through with anything more physical with Layla until we sorted through our past.

Maybe this burning our pain idea is dumb, I sure feel dumb just thinking about writing down all my thoughts with the intent of burning them up. There’s a strong possibility it won’t work. But on the off chance that it will, I’m willing to give it a shot if it means getting to be with Layla.

And that’s something I want more than I thought possible, considering lately the only thing I’ve truly wanted is Poppy to be healthy and happy.

Over dinner with her mom, we talked about things we’ve experienced over the years.

Layla seemed reluctant to share at first, probably because she thought it would bother me, but she eventually opened up. She talked a lot about her job and how much she liked working with Stan, her new employer but boss at her old company. I didn’t miss the slight blush that stained Maureen’s cheeks when Layla talked about what a great guy he is, and I didn’t think Layla missed it, either.

She definitely misses some of her favorite restaurants in Chicago, but swears that they’ve got nothing on the peach pie and patty melts at the diner in town. She couldn’t wait to go to different shows on the Chicago Theatre District, and went to several, but also said she had her fill of them.

One thing I noticed, is that for everything she talked about that made her eyes sparkle, she would be sure to let me know not having them here in Hollow Grove wasn’t a disappointment. I hope she wasn’t only saying it for my own benefit and not something she was trying to convince herself of.

“I loved living in Chicago, but that season is over. I was feeling the itch to move home a few months before I came back. Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to visit again, and there are a few friends that I’ll miss, but I don’t think I’ll keep in contact with them. I’ve barely thought of anyone in Chicago since I’ve been back in the Grove.” She shrugs and continues eating.

“You really don’t miss it?”

She thinks about that for a moment before answering.

“I miss sushi and having food delivery, my yoga classes in the park, Navy Pier, and of course, Cubs games. I went to a few Bears games, too, and those are a blast, but I usually went when it was super cold. I will not miss Chicago’s cold. We know cold here in Iowa, but Chicago is on a different planet of cold.

“The rest of it? No. At first I loved how busy it was and how there was always something to do, but after a while, I got a little overwhelmed by all the people. Traffic was always crazy and I can’t tell you how annoying it was. There was a lot of good things living in Chicago, but like I said, it was a season of my life and I’m happy to be in the next season.”

I still don’t know the story about the guy she was engaged to and it’s killing me not to know. It’s also killing me that she had someone else’s ring on her finger, even if it’s no longer there, and we’re not even close to that place together. At the same time, it’s her story to tell and I won’t be that guy who pushes her to share something she’s not ready to share.

I stop what I’m doing, realizing that I just thought about having my ring on her finger. It’s amazing how quickly my brain shifted in that direction. Maybe a part of me always felt like she and I were going to be back together one day which made it easy to imagine.

Layla would likely freak out if I brought it up to her, considering I’m already assuming that we’re together and we haven’t even discussed it so I ignore it.

While I’m inside getting the paper and pens, I check on Poppy and am glad to see she’s still sound asleep. Her arms are in the form of a football goal post in that cute way she always sleeps.

“Ready for this?” I ask when I get back outside.

“As I’ll ever be,” she admits. “I’m kind of nervous.”

“Nothing to be nervous about. I won’t read anything you write and once these papers are burned up, we have the chance to move on. And if it helps, I feel like an idiot doing this, but Missy promised me it would help. I don’t know if you remember or not, but she had shitty parents like I did, only hers didn’t just ignore her. They abused her. When she got pregnant, she had a lot of anxiety fearing that she’d somehow turn into her parents. This process, she called it, is something her therapist taught her and she said it was cathartic. Sure, she had more stuff to muddle through, but I think it will work. I hope so, anyway.”

“Are we really that messed up that we need to go to this extreme?”

“We aren’t messed up, but we’re both having a hard time letting go of issues that will get in the way of our future.”

“Good point.”

We get to writing, using a different piece of paper for each idea that comes to our minds. I don’t peek at what she’s writing once, and I don’t think she does for me, either.

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