“You want to know how I got this scar?”
Jay acted like he was cringing away from me even as he burst out into a fit of laughter.
“Damn, you didn't have to go all Joker on me.”
Turning so I could better face him, I swatted him on the shoulder to get him to stop laughing.
“You're alone with a girl in the dark and you're making Batman Jokes? You really are a nerd!”
“And proud of it!” He exclaimed before getting a grip and sobering his expression. “But seriously, what happened?”
“Car wreck. I was driving Nora and Carter to a party and some jerk was drunk and swerving back and forth on the road like it was a game. I pulled over, but it didn't matter. He rammed into us head on.”
“Jesus,” Jay whispered.
“Steering wheel crushed my chest. Pretty well obliterated my heart, but I was lucky. I woke up with a new heart, Nora and Carter were fine, the guy driving the other car was fine. Everyone walked away.”
“That's crazy. So, you're totally fine now? No problems?”
I took a deep, steadying breath. “Well, most transplant patients take a while to recuperate, but once they do, they're back at one-hundred percent. For some reason, I peaked at about seventy-five percent. The doctors couldn't tell me why, but it's bearable. Every now and then I get this faint, fluttery feeling in my chest, but it always goes away. It's just another reminder that I'm still alive. That I'm a survivor.”
Jay reached across the bench seat and took my hand in his, brushing his thumb across my knuckles as he locked eyes with me. The butterflies in my stomach were doing the conga and it made it damn hard to focus.
“Yes, you are.”
The conversation was getting entirely too real and entirely too intimate for my liking, so I steered the topic to safer ground before the butterflies had a chance to break out the maracas.
“I bet you were quite the heartbreaker in high school.”
Jay grinned. “What makes you say that?”
“Just a hunch.”
He stretched his legs out in the roomy floorboard and crossed his arms.
“My senior year, maybe. But before that, I was just the 'nerdy twin'. Jake was the ladies man.”
“So, he died your Junior year?”
“No, Senior. We went to different schools.”
Confused, I shook my head.
“The summer before Senior year, Jake and I told our parents we didn't want to attend the same school.” Jake shook his head, like that was the biggest mistake of his life.
I was an only child who had always wanted a sibling, so I didn't understand why on earth he'd want to be separated from his twin.
“Why?”
“We wanted to know what it felt like to not be 'one of the twins'. So, we flipped for it and Jake ended up going to live with our dad and I stayed with mom.”
If they went to different schools, that meant that they lived in different towns. So that meant...
“How long had it been since you'd seen Jake?”
Inhaling a shaky breath, Jay fidgeted in his seat and pushed his knuckles into the steering wheel.
“Months.”
My heart sank at the idea that he'd gone so long without seeing his brother, only to never be able to see him again. I couldn't imagine what that would have been like for him- for a part of him to just disappear like that.
“I'm so sorry, Jay.”
We both fell silent, giving the situation the respect it deserved. When Jay finally did speak again, his voice was so low I had to lean forward to hear him.
“I felt it, you know. That whole 'twin telepathy' shit everyone's always going on about? Yeah... It's real.”
The pain in his voice told me that he was still hurting. Still mourning. I knew he'd never get over the loss of his other half, but it was so obvious that his heart was still broken, still lying in a million shattered pieces at his feet.
Not knowing what else to do, I did the only thing that came to mind. I turned the key in the ignition so the radio would come on, turned it to a country station, and leaned over Jay to open the driver's side door.
“Get out.”
His eyes flashed up to meet mine. “What?”
“Get out. There's one thing on earth that makes me feel better when I'm thinking of all the heavy shit I've lived through, and I think it will help you.”
He arched one thick brow. “And I need to get out of my truck for this?”
“Yes. Scoot.”
Jay reluctantly stepped outside and I dropped to the pavement after him. Closing the door behind me, I turned to find Jay throwing me a quizzical look, like I'd lost my damn mind.
“Just trust me,” I said before opening my arms to him.
The radio was loud enough to be heard with his windows down and understanding lit his eyes as he moved closer. After putting one hand in his and moving his other hand to my hip, I leaned in close. I breathed in his warmth, his smell, the strength of his body beneath my touch...
“Dancing makes it all go away, does it?” His voice rumbled through his chest and I felt it all the way down to my toes.
“Yes, Mr. Pessimistic, it does. Now be quiet and listen to the music.”
We swayed there in the parking lot, our faces illuminated only by the streetlights, and I watched as Jay slowly unwound and his shoulders relaxed. By the time the third song ended, our foreheads were pressed together and Jay was humming to the music.
***
By the end of the week, I had found what appeared to be the world's worst job. If someone were to have asked me, “what is the absolute worst job you can think of?” I wouldn't have answered with working in a slaughterhouse or cleaning up vomit and used condoms in shady hotel rooms. I would say telemarketing. And I would be right.
After my first eight hour shift in hell, I was positive I could go the rest of my life without talking on the phone and I'd die a happy woman. Walking out the front doors of that stuffy office building felt like walking through the gates of a maximum security prison after being falsely accused of first-degree manslaughter and having the charges dropped.
Thankful to be free, I took my time driving home, enjoying the blissful sound of silence as the ringing in my ears subsided. There were so many people at my new job that smiled while on the phone with people, and I couldn't even begin to wrap my head around what they liked about bullying people over the phone.
As I pulled into the apartment parking lot, a familiar truck caught my eye and all the tiny annoyances of the day fell away one by one as I found Jay sitting on my doorstep. As I parked, he flashed that charming grin that I was seriously starting to fall head over heels for and held what he was holding over his head so I could see. A bag of microwave popcorn and a DVD.
I quickly locked my car doors and strolled across the lawn to meet him.
“So? How was it?”
I cocked my head to the side and planted a hand on my hip, contemplating ways to get my point across in a way he would understand.
“You know that nervous jittery feeling you get when you're about to make a presentation in front of a class?”
“Uh huh”
“Well, take that feeling and pair it with the image of stranger after stranger walking past you as they scream obscenities in your ear and threaten your loved ones.”
“That fun, huh?”
“Yeah.” I slumped down next to him on the step and leaned back on my arms. “I don't understand how some people have worked there for years. I mean, the level of disdain screamed at me through the receiver was enough to make me wish I could just start out my calls with 'I'm so sorry. They're making me do this. Please don't hate me'. I doubt that would soften their response, but at least it would make me feel better.”
“Then quit,” Jay suggested, as if I hadn't been rolling that idea around in my mind since the first two calls.
“I can't. It's my first day. I'm sure I'll learn to love it.”
Jay barked out a laugh. �
�Yeah, because the first thing you think of when you hear the word 'telemarketer' is how much those people must love their jobs. Seriously, there has to be more in this town than that. Why torture yourself?”
“I'm still applying to other places.” I sighed, moving my fingertips to my temples to massage at the headache pressing in on the back of my eyeballs.
“Well, I feel kind of stupid for just now asking this, but what's your major? What do you really want to do?”
“Elementary education.”
“That's hot.”
“What?” I laughed and dropped my hands. That wasn't at all what I'd expected him to say.
“Hot school teacher with spectacles and a ruler? That image is totally doin' it for me right now.”
“Perv.” I swatted at his chest before he stood and offered me his hand.
“I'm kidding. I think you'd make a great teacher. Is that what you've always wanted to do?”
After unlocking and opening the door, we went inside and sighed in ecstasy at the feel of the frigid air hitting our faces.
“Oh my God, that's amazing,” I groaned before flopping onto the couch. Jay took a seat next to me and I refocused on his question. “I'm not sure I even want to be a teacher.”
His head snapped back as if what I'd said was blasphemy. “Then why are you doing it?”
I shrugged one shoulder, not having the energy or the oomph to do both. “I don't know. Seemed like a safe bet, you know? I have no idea what I want to do and I'm not really passionate about anything enough to mold it into a career.”
“Nonsense,” he said. “You just haven't found your thing.”
“My thing? Maybe I don't have a thing.”
Jay made a show of glancing down at my crotch before widening his eyes. “I really hope you don't. Otherwise, this relationship is going to be extremely awkward.”
My cheeks flushed at the word 'relationship', and I pushed off the couch so he wouldn't be able to misread my blush.
“Only one of us here has a thing,” I said as I ascended the stairs. “And the one of us without a thing is going upstairs to change.”
After switching from jeans and a polo to a pair of athletic shorts and a tank top, I bounced back downstairs to find Jay lounged across the couch with his shoes off, looking just as at home in my place as he would in his own.
Seeing him so comfortable, so at ease with me and my surroundings, sent a wave of guilt crashing through me. I had no idea how to breach the subject of Jake's spirit visiting me. Just thinking about it made me feel like a nutcase.
As I approached the couch, Jay sat up and patted the empty space beside him.
“You up for a movie?”
I read the title through the clear Redbox case as he held it between us.
“Do you even know what Steel Magnolias is about?”
“Nope. But I read that it was the chick flick to end all chick flicks, so I'm using it to woo you.” He leaned forward and loaded the disc into my laptop sitting on the coffee table.
“To woo me?” I laughed. “And what say you, good sir? Are you after me for my dowry?”
Jay placed a hand over his heart and spoke to the ceiling. Acting as if I were caged away in a high tower. “You've read my heart, fair maiden. Twas the promise of two heifers and a barrel of ale that drew me to you.”
“Has anyone ever told you you're full of it?”
Jay scooted closer and batted his eyelashes. “Full of charm? Appeal? Intellect? Why yes, I get that all the time.”
I shook my head even as my shoulders shuddered with laughter. Spending time with Jay was like hanging out with an old friend. Effortless. Relaxing. Casual.
“So you really don't know what this movie is about?” I asked once he sat back down next to me.
“Nope. All I know is it's got that hot redhead in it.”
“Julia Roberts?”
“No, Carrot Top.”
His deadpan reaction had me doubling over in laughter.
“Uh, pretty sure he's not in this one,” I managed to say.
“You sure? Damn. Then I guess I am talking about Julia.”
After regaining the ability to breath, I wiped tears from my eyes and settled back against the couch.
“By the way, I'm about ninety-nine point nine percent certain that Julia isn't a natural redhead.”
“Well,” he scoffed in mock outrage, “not everyone can be a flawless ginger like Bree Presley.”
“Preston... Bree Preston! If you're going to properly woo me, you should probably learn my name first.”
“Hey now, it's a hard name,” he said, flashing me that charming smile once again.
“Preston is easier than Bryson. I'm not even sure that's a real name.”
“What? How is it a 'fake' name? It's not like it's my alias or anything.”
“When you type it on a computer, is it underlined with a squiggly red line?”
He snorted and shook his head. “Yes, but my word processor is discriminatory.”
“I'm sure.”
“Oh! It's starting. Shh!”
I snorted back a laugh at how excited Jay seemed over a chick flick, but otherwise turned my attention to the screen.
We spent most of the movie trying to impersonate the different actors and their southern drawls. However, when it came time for the funeral scene, I noticed Jay completely tune out. That wasn't surprising to me. Actually, I think I expected it.
After Sally Field finished giving her heart-wrenching monologue, I watched Jay's arm stretch out in my peripheral vision before feeling his forearm at my neck.
“Did you really just do that?” I looked at him out of the corner of my eye. “The whole yawn, stretch, and grope trick? I thought you had more class than that.”
“Hey now.” He pulled me into his chest and bear hugged me with one arm. “Don't emasculate me before I've even rounded first base.”
“And what makes you so certain you're rounding any bases tonight, Mr. Bryson?”
When I tilted my head up to look at Jay, all hints of his teasing demeanor were gone. Instead, I watched as his pupils dilated. His chest rose with a nervous breath as he placed one finger under my chin and tilted my head up until my lips were millimeters away from his.
As my insides screamed 'finally!', I met him halfway. I pressed my lips to his and reveled in the warmth of his skin, the softness I hadn't expected to find, and the curve of the smile I felt just before I pulled away.
Forget beating. My heart was somersaulting.
“Scale of one to ten?” Jay asked, eyes flaring with a heat I hadn't expected from such a joker.
“Eh,” I said, lifting one shoulder in a noncommittal shrug. “Solid six point five.”
“Ouch!” He slapped a hand to his chest. “You wound me!”
“Yeah, well, someone's gotta keep your ego in check.” I scooted away a fraction of an inch, enough to snuggle into his side as I directed my gaze back at the computer screen.
The intimate embrace had tingles crackling across my skin and I had to fight to keep my breathing even so he wouldn't know just how much his touch affected me. I needed to keep things light. I was in no position to jump into something so uncontrollable... or so potentially wonderful.
“Hey, my ego is my greatest asset. When was the last time you met a nerd with an ego? We're a dying breed.”
I shook my head, unable to carry on our lighthearted conversation while my brain and heart were racing a mile a minute to cross the finish line in the What the Hell is Going On Here triathlon.
I didn't date. In high school, all I cared about were my grades and my friends. Nothing else really mattered and no one sparked any particular interest. And after high school? I was more worried about my heart pumping. There was no room to let it fall for someone.
“Did you ever make the popcorn?” I asked, casually changing the subject.
“No. Because upon inspecting your kitchen, I realized that you do not own a modern day appliance known as a microw
ave.”
I shook my head in disappointment. “You are the worst date ever. Popcorn fail. I'm docking points.”
“Me? What about you? Who doesn't own a microwave?” His whole body shook with laughter. “You fail at adulting.”
I tilted my head back to look at him. He was smiling. One of those full, unrestrained, I-can-see-into-your-soul kind of smiles.
“Touche, sir. Touche.”
***
Dreaming.
I loved dreaming.
What I didn't love was watching my dream disintegrate around me as I was hastily pulled from the fog of sleep.
In my dream, it had been a warm summer night. Jay and I had been in the bed of his truck, wrapped around each other as we stargazed.
But in reality, I was in my apartment and it was freezing. The air nipping at the base of my neck felt all wrong, especially coupled with the vague heat seeping into my left side.
Opening my eyes, I found Jay, awake and fully alert, eyes wide with panic as he stared across the empty room. We must have fallen asleep while watching movies.
“Hey.” My voice was thick with sleep as I laid a comforting hand on his chest. “What's wrong?”
No answer.
He just continued to stare, his nostrils flaring, eyes unblinking, chest heaving in one panicked breath after another.
A prickle of dread swept through me before I swiveled my head around. I gasped as I laid eyes on the source of his unease.
“Jake.”
Jake stood at the end of the couch, gesturing wildly around the room, his lips flying through words we couldn't hear.
“I... we can't hear you,” I said.
Pressing the tips of his fingers to his temples, as if he had the world's worst headache, he closed his eyes and whispered four words. Four words that barely registered in my ear.
“Where is the board?”
Surprised by how much he sounded like the man sitting at my side, it took me a moment to answer.
“It- It's still packed.”
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