Page 27 of Endless Southern Love

“Lemon—”

The way he says my name is smooth and sexy. It’s how he’s always said it, even when he begged me not to ends things between us. I stop in my tracks and close my eyes. Tears form. I pinch the bridge of my nose to ward them off.

Him being here, saying my name like nothing has happened between us, it hurts my heart. Life would be so much easier if I could turn around and jump into his arms. To press my lips to his and reignite my body with the fire it once felt when Wade and I were together.

And then I think of her.

Of Ana. A woman I have never met but looked up online because I’m that level of obsessed with the man standing in my doorway. She’s gorgeous. Tall, blue eyes, blonde hair. Every man’s dream of a perfect woman.

It’s not hard to imagine Ana and Wade together. To anyone on the outside, it makes sense. But I take it a step farther and imagine them in bed, tangled in his sheets, with her leg over his hip and taking him in.

Then I see myself. Plain. Comfortable. I’m a routine or a habit. We didn’t have the spark anymore, at least that’s what I thought.

He says it was nothing like what he and I had together.

Wade graced me with the details, thinking they would make a difference. Telling me he didn’t even take his pants or her clothes off completely. That when he finished, he cried in the bathroom because she wasn’t who he wanted.

I was.

None of it mattered though because once I was ready to even think about getting back together, he spilled his guts. He had been with someone, and she was pregnant.

I no longer existed in Wade Jenkins’ life.

Even if Wade and Ana weren’t going to be together, there was no room for me.

Every part of me is tempted to turn around, to show him the tears I shed because of him. But I don’t.

“Lemon,” he says my name again. This time I hear the pain in his voice and imagine his hand reaching out to touch my shoulder. I turn my head slightly, in anticipation, but he’s not standing behind me. If he was, my knees would be weak from the scent of his cologne.

“I can’t.” I can’t even bring myself to say his name.

“I’m sorry,” he says with a slight huff from the doorway. “You have no idea how sorry I am for everything. I didn’t come for my hat or to upset you. I thought we could talk and give each other some closure.”

Closure? What the fuck is closure? Doesn’t he understand that as long as I have to see his daughter every day, I’m reminded of what happened.

I take a step toward my room and then stop. He doesn’t need his hat back. I can keep it. It means something to me even though I’ve had it buried in my closet for years. How come I brought it out today or all days? Shaking my head, I look down at the floor and then my toes. They’re painted pink. I’ve always chosen some shade of pink for as long as I can remember, and Wade always liked it.

He clears his throat behind me, startling me. My hand covers my heart, and I work to steady my breathing. Having him this close is not good for either of us. I know I should turn around and face him, tell him to leave but I can’t muster the strength. I don’t want to see his puppy dog eyes or the tilt of his head. He’ll flirt with me, to get me to bend to his will, and I can’t have that. I’ve done a damn good job at shutting myself off from him, at keeping myself a mystery and I’m not giving in how.

“Why are you truly here?” I ask without turning to face him. It’s better this way, then he won’t see how affected I am by his presence.

There’s rustling behind me and my heart races. Is he moving closer?

Shit.

“Lemon,” he says my name softly and it reminds me of when we were together, right before he . . . nope, I can’t go there. I pinch the bridge of my nose, take two steps forward, and turn around to face him.

“What?”

Wade jumps at my sudden outburst. On the inside, I’m laughing. Cackling even because I scared him. I work hard to mask my smile until I can’t, and an odd sound flies out of my mouth. Before I can stop it, I snort, and cover my face in embarrassment.

“Don’t,” he says as he pulls my hands away from my face. “Hearing you laugh is one of the best sounds in the world, Lemon. I’ve missed it.”

And just like that, the moment is ruined.

“You don’t have the right to miss anything I do,” I tell him.

“Okay,” he says, dropping his hands and stepping back. He’s so obedient. I want him to fight me. To yell and scream at me. He won’t though. I know this. He’s never been the type to yell at me. Other guys, for sure. Wade will stand up for my honor or the honor of any other woman out there, but he’d never yell.

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