Page 101 of Yours to Lose
“Why is that?”
“Because I get to have you. You are the best person I have ever known.”
I get an unexpected tidal wave of emotion so strong that I have to clear my throat before I answer. “Thanks, Jo Jo,” I manage.
“Why did that make you sad?” She squeezes my hand, setting her other hand over the top of mine.
I shake my head. “Not sad. It’s just…I haven’t really felt good enough for anyone or anything in a long, long time. You make me feel things I never thought I would feel again. I’m the lucky one.” What I don’t say is that I’m almost positive I am, in fact, face first in love with her, but the idea of saying the word is still terrifying, so I’m keeping that to myself for now.
“We’re both lucky. This is good, J. It’s really, really good.”
“It is. It’s you and me, Hurricane, and I’m not going anywhere. Which is why you shouldn’t be nervous.”
“I’m not nervous anymore,” she says, a little too quickly.
I glance over at her with a raised eyebrow. She hunches a little deeper into the old University of Pittsburgh hoodie she discovered in my closet the other day and immediately stole. She looks adorable, swimming in my sweatshirt with cutoff denim shorts and her hair in a high, swinging ponytail. Seeing her in my clothes makes the possessive part of my brain stand up and yellMine.
“Ugh, fine,” she says in an exasperated tone. “I’m still nervous. But it’s a normal kind of nerves now. The I’m meeting my boyfriend’s parents tonight kind of nerves.”
“Don’t forget about my brothers.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re also meeting my brothers tonight.”
“Do they live with your parents?”
I look at her again, confused. “No, why?”
“Because it’s eleven o’clock at night. It’s late for them to just be hanging at your parents’ house, isn’t it? I figured I’d meet them tomorrow.”
“Wyles family rule number one, Hurricane. If there’s an opportunity for family to be together, it doesn’t matter what time of the day or night it is. They’ll all be there.”
I assume this will ratchet up her nerves, but instead, she just studies me, her face glowing from the streetlights as I steer the car onto the exit off I-90 for Center Street. “How does that make you feel?”
I squeeze her hand again. “We were talking about you.”
She shrugs. “We talked about my thing this morning. Seriously, now it really is just regular meet the parents nerves.”
I take a deep breath, letting it out slowly as I watch all the familiar landmarks of my neighborhood whiz by. “It feels…weird, I guess. Kind of like the first time you put on snow boots at the beginning of the winter. You know they’re yours because you wore them last year, but they feel like they don’t quite fit.” I pause for a minute, collecting my thoughts. “I was a different person the last time I was here,” I say quietly. “My family has come to visit me in New York, but it’s different coming here. I guess I’m wondering if who I am now still fits in Boston, and with all of them.”
“You do,” Jo says immediately and with absolute confidence.
“How do you know?”
Jo reaches her free hand over and lays it on my thigh. “Because I saw your face when you asked me to come here with you. You lit up, Jordan. You love Boston, and I don’t have to know your family to know how close you all are. I can hear it when you talk about them. Or when you talk to one of your brothers on the phone. It might feel a little weird at first, but that’s just because it’s been a while. You have to get reacquainted with your city. Tell it you’re back. It’s been waiting for you.”
The assurance in her voice, the way she talks about Boston like it’s a living, breathing thing has my eyes blurring, because she’s right. I may not have lived here in years, but Boston is the kind of place that gets into your blood. It sticks with you, even when you leave, and no matter how far you stray, the skyline and the Commons and the Citgo sign and the Charles River are always there, calling you home.
And when I pull up to the big, brick colonial on the quiet Newton street where I grew up and the front door flies open, my parents and all three of my brothers tumbling out, I realize it’s them, too, that have been calling me home.
“They’ve been waiting for you too,” Jo says quietly.
I unbuckle my seatbelt and turn to her, cupping her face and laying my forehead on hers. I breathe her in, so fucking grateful that she’s here and she’s mine.
“I should have come back sooner,” I whisper.
“You came back at exactly the right time,” she says, leaning up and pressing a kiss to my forehead. Overcome, I close my eyes, feeling her lips against my skin, knowing in my bones I couldn’t have done this without her. “There’s no should have, J. There’s only now. And now, you’re here. So go hug your family. They’re going to be really happy to see you.”
