Page 37 of Just Trouble

Maybe The One is the person you admire so much that you’ll do whatever it takes to make things work between you. Maybe romance isn’t about uncertainty, Oscar, but about putting in the effort to earn the result.

“Good night, Daph,” I say, knowing that once I would have come to her door in the middle of the night after her friends were gone, that once I would have charmed my way inside her house and into her bed, that once I would have made her shout in pleasure—then disappeared by morning.

I’m not that guy anymore.

I don’t want quick satisfaction this time.

I don’t want to vanish.

Our fingers and gazes cling for a long moment, then Cameron’s laugh echoes from the house and I pull away. My equilibrium is restored sufficiently that I don’t want there to be rumours in town about Daph, about us. (I don’t think gossip is sweet.)

So, I start my bike as she steps onto her own porch, wave, and head back to the motel. I’m well aware that she’s standing there watching until I turn the corner and pass out of sight. Like a guardian angel.

Will I sleep?

I don’t think there’s a chance, but I’m wrong. It’s lights out as soon as my head hits the pillow.

The magic happensin the morning, when the sun is rising.

I can hear a stirring in my mind, something that hasn’t been there since Taylor died. I roll to my back and keep my eyes closed, not wanting to spook it.

It’s the faint warble of a melody. It’s not complete. It’s only a bar or two, really, but it’sthere. I know it’s too soon to try to capture it. Even as I listen, trying to catch the notes, it flickers and vanishes.

But it was back. A song is elusive and has to ripen in its own time. Not all of them do. But just the fact that I heard it again is a glorious gift.

Maybe Daph’ll be my muse.

9

DAPHNE

I’m jangled in the morning, and not just because of the congestion on the drive into the city. I end up arriving downtown a little later than planned, but even that’s not what is throwing me off balance.

It’s Luke.

The way he looked at me the night before, the things he said—well, the one thing he said—kept me awake. It made me wonder about possibilities and probabilities. It made me hopeful, then I felt foolish for being optimistic. Was he just telling me what I want to hear? Was he spinning a story?

I can’t believe it, but at the same time, I want to believe in him.

I would have slept with him, no expectations, no strings attached. But after last night, I understand that he thinks he doesn’t want it that way. It’ll be full-on, shooting for forever, and I’m not sure I’ve got another leap like that in me.

No, it’s not the leap that would finish me. It’s the crash at the end, when it inevitably ends, when he walks away and forgets me. I’m not sure I can handle being jilted again.

Maybe Luke believes in forever, but I don’t.

Maybe Luke is wrong about his own intentions—this forever thing is all new to him, after all. Maybe it’s an idea he finds appealing, in this moment, but the attraction will fade.

I’m afraid that’s right.

Yet I want him anyway. Even being sure it wouldn’t end well, even knowing it can’t have a chance of being more than a one-off, I still want to know.

Am I crazy?

Let’s face it—taking a chance is all new to me. Luke’s not the only one who doesn’t have a map to this territory.

My friends stayed late, though we avoided the topic of Luke. It felt to me like he was the elephant in the room. My impression was proved right when I discovered that Cameron had left a brown paper bag full of assorted condoms in my mailbox this morning.

What made me smile was the little crocheted hedgehog that someone—undoubtedly Willow—left on my kitchen windowsill. It reminded me of the power of friends.

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