Page 51 of Before You
Probably, but it doesn’t change the fact that I am deeply, madly, and hopelessly in love with Marley.
She’s worth waiting for.
And then there’s the fact I’m doing my best to not punch her ex-boyfriend in the fucking face. I’m not a violent person, and my temper doesn’t run as hot as my siblings’, but I am genuinely surprised I haven’t hit him. The shit Trent says about Marley makes my blood boil to a dangerous temperature, and it’s only a matter of time before I stop biting my tongue.
Perfect example would be when he started comparing his ex’s blowjobs to the girl he was with last weekend, and my jaw was clenched so hard, I thought I might crack a molar. The only thing helping me keep my shit together was how disappointed I thought Marley would be if she heard I got into a fight with Trent over her, so instead I thought about how I spent my Sunday afternoon baking cookies.
One of us is going to have to learn how to make something edible if we’re going to spend the rest of our lives together.
I can at least cook breakfast foods, but Marley? She can’t cook anything to save her life, but I’ll eat anything she gives me with a smile on my face, even if it kills me in the end.
I’ve spent at least some form of time with her every day since the night we kissed, but even with all the time together, we still talk on the phone until one of us falls asleep. It only took one time of waking up with my phone’s battery drained entirely to ensure I plug it in before lying down. My anxiety can’t handle the thought of missing a call from Bailey, and it scared me shitless to think about how careless I was with the only lifeline I have to him—the only one we all have with him—even if the reason was that I fell asleep talking to Marley.
The October breeze is a better change in pace than August and September where the heat is blistering underneath all my pads I have to wear at football.
I’m drained from practice, but I promised to meet up with Bria later to run intervals instead of for distance, and I think it’sher way of trying to kill me. I’d rather die trying to digest any of Marley’s creations.
I pull my phone out of my pocket and press my mom’s contact, dialing her number. I almost think she’s not going to pick up, but she does on the final ring. “How nice of you to call. How is my sweet California boy doing?” she teases, and I roll my eyes.
“Oh, Mom, you know I’m still a Carolina boy at heart. Sorry I haven’t called much this week, there’s just been a lot going on with football.” It’s a weak excuse, but it’s hard for me to talk to my family knowing how far away they are. It was my decision to come here, but as much as I miss them, I hate the part of me that dreads making phone calls because of Bailey.
“You don’t have to explain. I know how it is better than anyone.” Mom chuckles, and I shift my bag on my shoulder, opting to walk to the house instead of catching a ride. “A little birdie told me it’s not football consuming so much of your time, but I’ll let it slide until you want to talk about it.”
I’m going to kill Mira.
She’s been in such a sappy mood since she and Henry got engaged. I kept her secret about being in love with Henry for years, and she can’t keep mine quiet for more than two months?
Clearly, I’m the superior sibling.
“Oh, is this birdie newly engaged and a major pain in my ass?”
“Potentially. I would like to say she’s also a major pain in my ass.”
“Oh really?”
“You’re all major pains in my ass. Don’t think you’re an exception,” Mom says, and I can’t help but smile.
“Right, okay, but I’m theleastmajor pain in your ass.”
“That is an awfully high presumption of you to make, JJ,” Mom says, but she doesn’t tell me I’m wrong. “So am I going tohave to wait for news from tabloids about this girl like I did with Henry and Mira?”
I hate the idea of cameras capturing pictures of me and Marley. When I’m in California, they usually leave me alone, but when I’m home, I don’t get it nearly as bad as Mira and Henry do. I don’t mind the spotlight when it comes to football, but I’ve seen firsthand how invasive the media can be when it comes to getting the money shots they crave. It’s the reason why there’s naked photos of my sister on the internet forever. The thought of something similar ever happening to Marley makes the blood running through my veins turn to ice.
“We’re not together or fake dating,” I say, feeling the need to clarify the second part after Mirabelle pulled that stunt with Henry.
“Glad to know you’re not following in your sister’s footsteps, even if it did work out for her. So you have feelings for her? Come on, my birthday is next week, and I’d love to know if my present will be getting to meet this mystery girl.”
I pause, considering how much I really want to admit here. I more than like Marley.
She’s everything.
“JJ?”
“I bought her flowers,” I ultimately decide to say, knowing that sentence is the only thing I can remotely say to try and explain what Marley means to me in a way my mother will understand.
Mom gasps.“Alors, quand vais-je rencontrer ma belle-fille?”15
“Mom.” I groan, but I can’t deny the thought of Marley meeting my parents makes me smile. They’d love her, but I also think they’d scare the shit out of her. I love my parents, but their relationship is an acquired taste. “We aren’t even dating, so maybe don’t refer to Marley as your future daughter-in-law.”
