Page 22 of Just One Kiss

No. No. NO.They could not do this.Shecould not do this. She couldn’t have a moment with Josh. She had to disconnect whatever this was because if she didn’t, it would only take a heartbeat for her to feel seventeen again, unable to resist her feelings for him. She was older now. Wiser. She knew the truth about this man, and she wasn’t willing to risk her heart again.

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice . . .

“He’s going to be fine,” she said, not fully believing it. But it was what they both needed to hear in that moment.

He nodded. The tension faded. The moment passed.

Good job, Carly. That was smart.

“Call me if you need anything before Tuesday,” Josh said.

As if he would be the person she would reach out to if she needed anything. “See ya.”

He lingered for another moment, then finally walked out the door, sucking all of the oxygen in the room out with him.

7

Josh let the engine of his Ford F-150 idle in the street in front of the old white cottage where he’d lived after his family moved to Harbor Pointe when he was eight. PerfectLeave It to Beaverfamily house, and to the rest of the world, that’s exactly what the Dixon family looked like.

His mother wore an actual apron when she made dinner.

It was all part of the image his parents had worked so hard to perpetuate the second they crossed the city limits of their new hometown. It was all part of the image Josh had shattered when he was a teenager, lost and rebellious.

See, he knew the truth. He saw through the phoniness.

How many nights had Josh spent in his room wishing he could rub a magic lamp and transport himself out of there?

He hadn’t spoken to his parents in weeks, but he hadn’t seen them in months. A lot of months. Like over a year. Maybe two years. How long had it been since they’d shown up in Chicago and insisted he go to lunch with them?

His conversations with his mother were always brief and always out of guilt.

She’d leave him a message. He wouldn’t respond. Another message. Still no response. He’d send her a vague text and she’d call again—

“Joshua, this is your mother. You know a text message doesn’t replace a conversation. I want to hear your voice. I need to know how you’re doing. Call me back, please?”

He’d call out of guilt, keeping the conversation brief and surfacey.

“Oh, is that what you sound like?” she’d say after their initial hellos. “I’d forgotten.”

“Been busy, Mom. Lots going on here.”

“Just like your father.”

Josh cringed at the words.

“Things are ramping up for him right now too.”

His father was a city planner, and every year his mother mentionedthismight be the year he ran for mayor.

But Josh didn’t want to talk about his father. And he certainly didn’t want her comparing the two of them—they were nothing alike. Josh had made sure of it.

“Oh, Mom, sorry, I’m getting called into a meeting.”

“Already?”

“Yeah, I’ll catch up with you later.”

He’d disconnect, then look around his empty office, wondering if God considered it lying if it spared someone’s feelings.

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