Page 48 of Second Chance Serenity

“Great. It’s just back here.”

The man at the counter turns and offers me a hesitant smile. “Michael,” he greets.

“Liam.” I start toward the back.

“Wait, can I ask you something?”

Taking a deep breath, I turn to face him. “What is it? I’m on a schedule.”

“You and I don’t know each other.”

“No, we don’t.”

“But I care about Reyna, and I sense you do, too. More than it just being your job, at least.”

“You can say that.”

“I asked around a bit. I know you two were an item back in school, and I just want to make sure we’re not going to have any problems between us since I’m courting her now.”

Courting her? Who talks like that? “Reyna is her own person,” I tell him. “She can be courted by whomever she wants.”

He visibly relaxes. “Good. Glad to hear it. Thanks.”

“Yeah. Is that all?”

“It is. See you around.”

“See you.” Jealousy has no business taking root in my heart, but there it is, thorny and infuriating as it spreads through me.

“You look like you’d rather break the panel,” Mrs. Redding jokes.

“I’m fine. Just show me where you want it.”

She points to the back door. “Right beside there.”

“Great.” I drop the bag of tools, then set the panel box down on top of a stainless-steel countertop.

“Michael.” She places her hand gently on my arm, and I turn. Her husband may be the pastor, but Kyra Redding is nearly as close to me as my own mother. They were best friends growing up, and not much has changed even though my mom rarely leaves the house. “Talk to me.”

“I’m working through it,” I tell her. “I just—I’ve realized that all this time I’ve been holding on to hope that Reyna might forgive me, and now I’m understanding that she probably won’t.”

“She’ll forgive you someday,” she says with a smile. “It just might not be in the way you’re hoping for, and you need to come to terms with that.”

Before I can change my mind, I lift my fist and knock on Reyna’s door.

Jaxson is parked just outside, and I’m willing to bet he’s counting on her slamming the door in my face. I know I am.

She pulls it open wearing leggings and a baggy shirt that falls down to her mid-thigh. Her red hair is wet and dangling over her shoulders. She’s breathtaking.

“What is it?”

“I wanted to say something.”

“You can come in.” She steps aside, but I remain where I am.

“I don’t need to come in, this won’t take long.”

“Okay.” She crosses her arms, and I run a hand through my hair.

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