Page 11 of Feels Like Coming Home

I took a breath and walked away from the mirror. I don’t think my looks have anything to do with my lack of a relationship. I think it was purely because of my lack of trying, and more importantly, my lack of being able to commit when it counted most.

I was breathing heavilyas I passed the tree that I used as my stopping point on the opposite side of the park.

My route was always the same. I parked near a coffee shop on one side of the park and ran on the path that took me to the entrance on the opposite side. Then, I would turn around and run back. By the end of it, my run was an easy five miles.

The weather was warm and balmy and the park was packed with people. Whenever I ran, I liked to people-watch and take it all in. As I started back toward the other side of the park, I passed a woman pushing a stroller, cooing to the baby that sat inside, a guy who looked like he was probably ten years younger than me playing fetch with a Golden Retriever and a young couple who were definitely in high school holding hands and sitting at the base of a tall oak tree. The sight of them brought me a sudden stab of pain in my gut, thinking about a particular moment in my life that matched them almost identically. I hadn’t thought about that day in a long time, but seeing the young couple brought the memory back immediately.

Finally finishing my run, I stood at the entrance of the park catching my breath and listening to the cars driving by. The park I ran through sat in the center of downtown Charlotte, and I liked coming here because of all the energy I could feel from the city. Charlotte wasn’t huge, but it was just big enough to give you the sense that it was.

I was about to head back to my car when the sight of the coffee shop across the street caught my attention. I hadn’t had a cup of coffee, or much of any kind of takeout, for weeks now as I prepared for the season. The thought of my favorite pastry, a bear claw, made my mouth water.

Deciding that I had worked out enough to earn the reward, I headed toward the shop. As I stood at the corner waiting for the sign to signal WALK, the images of Haley from my dreams crept into my brain again. Suddenly I felt my shorts move in a way they shouldn’t move in a public setting, and I attempted to adjust myself as I crossed across the street.

There were probably fifty people in the small coffee shop when I stepped inside. A small bell above the door chimed as I pushed it open and I waved at the barista behind the counter. The menu wasn’t big and I smiled triumphantly when I saw that they did, in fact, have fresh bear claws behind the counter. My mouth started to water and my stomach growled as I eyed them.

The barista took my order—a black coffee and a bear claw—and I stuck a few extra dollars in the tip jar before heading to the end of the counter to wait. Since it was Saturday morning, the shop was packed, and I had to move toward the end of the bar to wait for my drink so I wasn’t in the way.

I looked up and watched as a guy grabbed his coffee from the bar. When he walked away, that’s when I saw her.

Haley Jones, standing just a few feet away from the counter.

My whole body froze and my eyes slowly blinked a few times, not fully able to believe that the girl I had grown up with was now standing in front of me, a fully grown woman. Her hair is what gave her away as it was the same cinnamon color it was when we were younger, except now it was a little shorter and she had a few pieces that framed her round face.

As I looked at her, I could see that she was slightly thinner than I remembered her being. She was wearing a black dress and carried a black bag across her shoulder that cut across her chest and made her breasts a little more noticeable than if she wasn’t wearing it. I glanced at them without meaning to and quickly brought my eyes back to her face. Her beautiful, soft, round face that I couldn’t forget even if I wanted to. The face from my childhood, my past, and my recent dreams. The face of the girl I had convinced myself I couldn’t have and shouldn’t want.

The unforgettable face of the girl who got away.

I took a few steps closer to her, stopping at a comfortable distance.

“Jones?”

7

HALEY | NOW

Ialmost thought my brain had made it up when I heard him call out my name. But when he repeated it for a second time, I knew I wasn’t hallucinating.

No one had called me Jones since my freshman year in college, and only one person had ever called me that in my lifetime. It couldn’t be him, could it? I turned my head to follow the voice and the air got caught in my throat when I saw him. Immediately, my heart started to pound so loud in my chest that I thought the people around us could hear it too.

Standing a few feet away from me was Camden Johnson.

Professional NFL player, recent trade to the local team, and the boy I grew up with.

Not just the boy I grew up with, but the boy who I had loved since I was in seventh grade.

I looked at him without saying anything, taking in everything that he was now. Tall, built, undeniably hot. His face was the same as the last time I had seen him, except older and more mature. He had stubble along his strongly formed jaw and his hair was longer than he normally kept it when we were growing up. He was wearing running shorts and a skin-tight, long-sleeved shirt that complimented his large, muscular arms.

But it was his eyes that pierced straight through every logical thought I was trying to form. Deep emerald and perfectly fit for his face. Exactly as I remembered them. The eyes I looked for every day on the playground, in the cafeteria, in the hallway, and that night in my dorm room during our first year away at school.

When my brain finally managed to reconnect itself to my body, I tried to calm my breathing as he walked toward me, but the way his hips swayed made it difficult. Once he was close enough to me, I could smell the familiar scent of pine, earth, and AstroTurf on him. Cam always smelled like this growing up, and the familiarity brought me a sense of comfort I hadn’t felt in weeks.

I was staring at his arms when he finally spoke again.

“Haley Jones, I’ll be damned. What the hell are you doing here?” he said with a smirk and a tinge of disbelief in his voice.

“Getting coffee,” was all I could manage.

He chuckled, “I assumed that much, Jones. I mean what are you doing herein Charlotte?”His emphasis on the last two words brought me back to reality.

---