Dating My Best Friend: A Second Chance Romance

by Annie J. Rose

  And my gut curled in on itself.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “Morning, Khloe.”

  “What’s wrong, Kent?”

  He sighed.

  “I just caught wind of something I figured you’d wanna know.”

  “Well, can you spit it out? I’m kind of getting my workday off the ground.”

  He licked his lips. “I figured you’d wanna—well, you see—”

  “Spit it out or let me get back to my coffee.”

  “Jasper’s back in town, Khloe.”

  I drew in a sharp breath of air. It felt like someone had punched me in the gut and stolen my breath.

  “Are you sure?” I asked.

  Kent nodded. “I knew you’d wanna know.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Uh, thank you for telling me. Have you seen him?”

  “Yeah. I’m actually going to be training him here.”

  I blinked. “Are you serious?”

  “Yeah.” The thought of Jasper working with the Canaan Police Department was enough to throw me off balance. I teetered on my feet before I felt a pair of strong hands grip me, holding me steady as Kent’s voice pierced through the haze.

  “Come on. That’s it, lean against the cruiser.”

  “Hey, you good, Khloe?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I just need a minute.”

  “You need me to call someone? Or get you something?”

  “No,” I said, standing up straight and taking in a breath. “No, I’m good. Thanks for letting me know. Stay safe, Kent.”

  I slipped away from Kent’s hands and made my way back into the library. I felt him staring after me, but I didn’t bother to look back. I had to get behind closed doors before I lost my shit.

  “Khloe, you okay?” Matt asked.

  “Get those books put up, please,” I said.

  Then, I locked myself in my office, hoping to bypass children’s story time as tears streamed down my face.

  Chapter 4

  Jasper

  I sat in the driveway of my parents’ old house and sighed. My aunt had kept it in my name all these years, but sitting there, looking at my old front porch, still hurt. And I swear to fuck, I still smelled my father’s cigars all the way out here. I closed my eyes and leaned back into the seat of my truck. I felt tired, so very tired, deep within the marrow of my bones.

  I’m back in Canaan.

  So much had happened over the past twelve years. I moved to Vegas. Graduated high school. Enlisted into the Marines and did my four years. Got out of the Marines and somehow carved out a police career for myself in Vegas, only to hate the lights and the smell of vomit and having to revive more people from drug overdoses than actually arrest people for doing shitty things on the Strip.

  I don’t know what the hell I was thinking, looking up jobs in Canaan. I hadn’t been here in almost thirteen years. But when I saw the police department had an opening, I applied for it without hesitation.

  Vegas never did feel like home.

  Then again, Canaan didn’t, either. Not since my parents passed away. My eyes fell open, and I stared at the garage door, wondering how the fuck to open it now.

  I need to get the code reset.

  I guess it was good that I had a place to sleep tonight. But my aunt never did have the courage to get the house cleaned out. There had been no estate sale. There had been nothing put in storage. The house got locked up, my aunt ordered courtesy patrols of the neighborhood, and she used my father’s life insurance policy to have recurring flowers sent to their gravesites every Friday, rain or shine. She also paid to have the grass cut every week and the snow cleared when needed.

  And my mother’s life insurance? Well, she gave that to me. I’d promptly stuffed it away into investments to let it sit.

  I opened my truck door and slid out onto the concrete. I closed the door behind me and looked around. The damn place hadn’t changed in years. The houses still looked the same. The mailboxes hadn’t changed in style. This driveway was still cracked and overgrown a bit with weeds, something I’d have to fix if I wanted to sell this place.

  Do I want to sell this place?

  “One step at a time,” I murmured.

  “What was that?”

  I turned around at the sound of the voice. And the girl—no, woman—walking up the driveway made my jaw drop open. I almost choked at the sight of her. Holy hell, could it really be her?

  “Quinn?” I asked.

  She smiled. “Guess I don’t look that different, huh?”

  I shook my head. “You’ve grown.”

  “That’s what happens after more than a decade.”

  “You look…”

  Just like your sister.

  “Like a woman instead of the girl who guzzled hot chocolate like it was her life force?”

  I laughed. “Please tell me you still drink it.”

  She smiled. “Year-round, like always.”

  “Nice to know some things don’t change.”

  Her stare fell down my body. “And yet, some things do. A lot.”

  I knew I looked different from the last time she’d seen me too. I’d gotten a bit taller, and being in the military had put some muscle on me. I had a couple of tattoos on my arms and chest after drunken nights out with the guys in my unit. My hair was probably disheveled, too. I’d driven straight from Vegas all the way to here once I caught wind of the fact that they’d offered me the position.

  “I can’t believe you’re back.”

  Quinn’s whisper hit my ears a little too hard. She’d always been a loud girl. Boisterous. A bit too “in your face.” She didn’t understand the idea of personal space. At least, when she was younger, she didn’t. But now, as she stood near the bed of my truck and me near the driver’s door, it seemed like she had gotten the hang of it.

  Or, she was afraid to approach me.

  Maybe because of Khlo?

  Would Khloe even want me calling her that after what I’d done?

  “I heard you were back from Kent and all. But I guess part of me didn’t believe it,” Quinn said.

  “I recognize that name. Officer Blue?” I asked.

  “Yeah. How do you know that?”

  I sighed. “Just took a job with the police department. He’s my training officer.”

  She laughed. “Well, fuck me. Small town, I guess.”

  “Yeah. Small town.”

  “Well, I figured I’d come over and surprise you. So, surprise.”

  She held out her arms, and I chuckled softly.

  “You got me,” I said.

  Guess Officer Blue had a bit of a mouth on him. Because other than him, only the chief knew I was coming. I guess it didn’t help that the chief used to be good buddies with my father. I probably got the job more off that than anything else. But I was a good cop. I had a proven track record back in Vegas. If anyone doubted me, they could take a look at my record.

  But how did Quinn know I was showing up today?

  “You look like a deer in headlights. You okay?” Quinn asked.

  “How did you know I was coming in today?” I asked.

  “Word travels fast around here. Especially when a long-lost soul comes back to town.”

  I winced at her words. “I guess, yeah.”

  I heard my dog whimpering in the front seat, and I was grateful for the way out of that particular conversation.

  “Gotta get Piper, hold on,” I murmured.

  I wrapped around the front of the truck, trying to keep as much distance between Quinn and me as possible. I didn’t know why, but I was suddenly uncomfortable around her. But when I let my beautiful golden retriever out of the truck, personal space went out the window.

  “Oh, my gosh!” Quinn squealed.

  Piper jumped from her seat, and Quinn was at my side. She held her hand out, cooing to my dog as she sniffed Quinn’s hand. She gasped and squealed at such a high pitch that it kicked up other dogs in the neighborhood. Their barking started Piper barking. And her
tail wagged the more Quinn petted her. I rolled my eyes as the chorus of dogs kicked up, forcing their owners out to their backyards.

  Quinn let Piper lick her face as I walked around to the bed of the truck. I reached in and pulled out my duffel bags, tossing both of them over my shoulders. Everything else could wait. I didn’t have to unload immediately. Especially since I wasn’t sure I’d want to be staying in my childhood home for very long.

  There were too many painful memories here. “Need any help?” Quinn asked.

  I ignored her question as I stepped onto the porch.

  “Jasper, you need help?” she asked again.

  I dropped my bags and fished around for my keys.

  “All right. I’m just going to grab this, well, box here. Okay?” she asked.

  I slid my key into the lock and turned. The door eased open with a creek, and the smell of my memories came wafting back. I swore I heard my mother laughing and smelled my father’s fucking cigars. I closed my eyes and drew in a deep breath, forcing myself to take it all in. When Quinn stepped up behind me on the porch, I reached for my bags before stepping through the threshold.

  Quinn coughed. “Think this place needs some dusting.”

  I ignored her words as I opened my eyes.

  “And maybe some mopping, too. Has anyone been in here over the years?” she asked.

  I wanted her to leave, but I didn’t want to be rude. I knew my presence back would be jarring for a lot of people. Her sister, especially. So, I let Quinn ramble on in that style of hers that apparently hadn’t changed with time.

  But I sighed with relief when I flipped on the hallway light.

  “Huh. Got the power turned on. Nice. Let me check the water.”

  Quinn rushed by me, and I dropped my bags again. I hadn’t stepped foot in this house for damn near thirteen years. And yet, it hadn’t changed one bit. It felt weird being back. It felt…off.

  Oddly anticlimactic.

  Thank fuck for that.

  I reached behind me and closed the door. I heard water running in the distance and nodded my head. Good. Electricity and water meant a hot shower tonight. I turned toward the stairs. My eyes flitted across the pictures, refusing to take them in. And as Quinn started cooing at my dog again somewhere in the house, I walked over to the steps and began climbing.

  One by one, they groaned underneath my feet. The carpet kicked up more dust than I could have imagined. But the smells of home slowly took me back to a time where Khlo and I had run through these hallways before falling onto the couches together to watch movies. Memories of Mom tucking me in at night, of Dad smoking in his cigar room and reading books to me through the door. He always knew I was sitting out there, listening, waiting for him to emerge.

  I stopped just shy of that cigar room door and sat down, leaning my head against the wall like I always had when I was a kid.

  Waiting to hear his voice.

  He’s not coming back, you idiot.

  “I know, I know,” I murmured.

  You have to move on.

  “I can’t,” I whispered.

  You’re a damn Marine! Oorah!

  “Shut up,” I growled to myself.

  “You say something?” Quinn shouted up the stairs.

  “Quinn, I don’t mean to be rude, but—”

  “It’s okay. I know. I gotta jet anyway. Work, and all that. I just stopped by on my lunch break to say welcome home. But you should stop in some time and see the folks. They’ve missed you,” she said.

  I stood up. “Yeah. Sure. I’ll make sure to get over there.”

  There was a heavy pause before she spoke again; this time, her voice much quieter. “She’s missed you, too, Jasper. And she’s been through a lot the past few years. You should go see her at the library.”

  I paused. “The library?”

  “Yeah, here in town. Listen, I’ve gotta run. I’m about to be late for my shift. Welcome home, Jasper.”

  Then, my front door closed, leaving me alone with my dog and all sorts of questions running through my head.

  “The library?” I whispered.

  I stared at the staircase, wondering if I had the guts to actually stop by the town library and see if Khloe was there. My Khloe. Well, she wasn’t mine. Never had been. Not since I left. Not since I never looked back even after promising that the only thing that would change between us was distance and only for a year.

  Guilt barreled over me, and I turned my head away from the stairs. I pressed on until I stood in the doorway of my childhood room. I opened the door and peered inside. The damn thing looked the exact same way it had all those years ago. Memories came to life before my very eyes. Memories of Khloe and me lying on my bed and staring at the ceiling, laughing and talking and stressing over exams. I saw her with her head on my shoulder, crying like she had that day, holding me while I stared blankly at the wall.

  Wishing all of it had been a nightmare.

  Why the hell is she at the library? She’s supposed to be in California being the next Bill Gates or some shit.

  My head slowly panned around, and the large double doors came into view. The shadows of the hallway taunted me as the hallway grew longer and shorter in my vision. I felt sick to my stomach. After all these years, those doors still made me ache as much as I did that afternoon in the hospital.

  But I didn’t cry. Unlike all those years ago, I didn’t even brew tears. I’d come to terms with it emotionally. Though, that hole would always be there. Every birthday. Every holiday. At the turn of every year. It was a painful reminder that more time had passed without them. More cigars were smoked before I could ever share one with my father. More books were read without my mother’s whispered voice mouthing the words behind the back of my head.

  More holidays passed without Khloe and me exchanging gifts like we always had.

  You’re an asshole, Jasper.

  I’d left here and never called. I’d never offered an explanation for anything. I just…left. Like the grieving little coward that I was.

  And now, I was back.

  Hoping the girl I had hurt all those years ago didn’t hate me now.

  Chapter 5

  Khloe

  “I hate him.”

  I growled the words as I slipped into my office. All damn day, people had been coming up to me, feeding me the news, asking me if I’d seen him. Him. Jasper Willem, the lost boy of Canaan. I leaned against my office door and closed my eyes. This place had been my solace all day until someone else came knocking. An old acquaintance from high school. The fucking FedEx guy, dropping off packages with new books to put on the shelves. Books donated by self-publishers who wanted to see their own titles on display.

  A knock came at my door, and I drew in a deep breath. I ran my hands down my blouse, then quickly opened it. I put on my best smile and pushed my glasses up my nose, gazing into the stare of Jean Marine.

  How her parents had to have loathed her presence to name her something like that.

  “So, have you seen him?” she asked.

  I blinked. “Are you here to pick up a book?”

  She swatted me. “No, you silly goose. I saw him down at the deli for lunch. Oh, he looks so much different! He’s taller. Broader. I think the military did him some good.”

  I blinked again. “The library is for books, not gossip.”

  “Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you’re at least a little curious. I talked to him. You want all the details?”

  “Matthew can help you behind the counter if you want to check out a book.”

  “Hey, wait a sec—Khloe!”

  I closed the door in her face and threw the lock. I stalked over to my desk and flopped into my chair. I pulled my hair out from the clipped-up bun, then shook my tendrils out over my shoulders. I slid my hands down my face, tossed my glasses onto my desk, and sighed.

  “Why did he have to come back?” I whispered.

  More people came by to get a slice of that gossip pie than to actually check out a book
. They were clogging up the library, making too much damn noise, and distracting me from my work. The library was my home. My sweet place of solace. And they were ruining it. Jasper was ruining it.

  Maybe I needed to put a sign on the front of the library—“No, I haven’t seen Jasper Willem!”—just so people would know without coming in and asking me. Because holy hell, I was tired of it. And I still had four more hours in my day.

  Lord, help me through this day.

  Another knock came at my door, and I bristled. I thought about not opening it and simply ignoring it. Turning off my office light. Closing my blinds. Hiding away from the world until my shift was over. But the knock came again, only this time more frantic.

  So, I got up and answered the door.

  “Yes, how can I—oh, hey, Matt.”

  He grinned. “So, have you seen him yet?”

  My face fell, and I playfully swatted at him. He held up a hardback book to block my hand as I pretended to slap him. He chuckled as a smile crossed my face. I was thankful for the moment of laughter.

  “What’s up?” I asked.

  “I’ve got about an hour before it’s time to go. Need anything done?” he asked.

  “Just keep putting up books and trying to tame the rabid crowds. I’ll be out by two to relieve you from front-desk duty.”

  “If you want, I can stick around until you close this place up.”

  “Nope. You’re not slated to work a full day, so I’m not doing that to you.”

  “Want me to come by later, then? Help you close down? Bring you food? Set up a booth and pass out flyers telling people you haven’t seen him yet?”

  I grinned. “You know, that might be better than my idea to put up a sign on the front door.”

  He chuckled. “I bet we could find a neighborhood kid to spray-paint it on the outside of the library.”

  “I’m sure the city would love that.”

  He sighed. “Should I ask why his return is such a big deal?”