Page 44 of Undeniable

The end of summer festival required lots of set up and break down of booths, games, and equipment. All of this was completed by volunteers and since my mom and James’s mom were the lead organizers of the event, we’d be roped into anything they needed help with.

And all of it was outside.

I unlocked my car and popped the trunk. Without a word, James and I simultaneously tossed our duffels in the back and rounded the car to our respective sides. He immediately opened the passenger side door and ducked inside, but I paused with my fingers wrapped around the handle. There was no point in taking a calming breath, but I tried anyway.

And it was all for nothing, as I suspected it would be. I climbed into the car and my senses were immediately overwhelmed by him. His presence was impossible to ignore, especially when his six-two frame was squeezed in my little car. He adjusted the seat backward for more legroom while I turned the car on and tried to focus on anything besides him.

His masculine yet fresh and clean scent surrounded me. It reminded me of happier times and the man I thought I knew then. A man who turned out not to be any better than the rest of them—worst almost.

Driving was going to be difficult, with him sitting next to me the entire time, which was stupid.

The sweet relief of the air conditioning was short-lived. The cold air felt amazing on my warm skin but stirred his scent to the point that I felt like I was being suffocated.

In his seat, James sat silently. He’d already buckled while I was trying not to breathe too much, and his left leg was quickly bouncing against the floorboard.

The silence was grating on my nerves and I grabbed my phone to fill it with the first song to pop up on the first playlist I found. It was one I’d curated with all of my favorite songs from every genre.

The first song to play was an old country song my mom had played constantly growing up. It was one I knew James’s mom also had on repeat, and I think we both relaxed a little with the familiar melody.

I pulled out of my parking spot, exited the lot and turned toward the highway.

The music only calmed my nerves and frustration for a few minutes, but we drove like that for a long while. Neither of us had said a word or made a sound in the nearly half an hour we’d been on the road and it made me uncomfortable, especially with questions about his sudden change of heart sitting heavy on my mind.

I could probably count on one hand the number of times James had gone back to Willowwood for any extended period of time. He always went for Christmas Day, sometimes Thanksgiving, and at least Easter service at church. But he would stay only long enough to say that he made an appearance and would be back in Austin the same day.

Like for Christmas, he’d join his parents in the morning for breakfast, exchange gifts between the three of them and be gone before my family arrived later that day. And if we did happen to run into each other during a holiday or birthday, he was always the same selfish asshole. He didn’t care that his mom was always sad when he left early or that my brother missed his once best friend.

Staying in Willowwood for several days was more than out of character. It was such a departure from the norm that I couldn’t stand not to know why. Even if the thought of starting a conversation made me want to vomit.

After not speaking for an extended period of time, I cleared my throat and glanced at him for the first time since I’d started the car.

His foot tapping and leg bouncing had stopped, only to turn into his thumb idly tapping on his thigh. His other arm was propped against the window, the fabric of his light-blue shirt—that, without seeing them, I knew perfectly matched the color of his eyes—tugged tight across the lean muscles of his chest and arms.

He stared out the side window, intently watching the passing landscape.

Rather than come right out and ask him why the hell he’d come, I tried to start with a lighter topic.

“Do you have a music preference?” My eyes stayed fixed on the road, but I didn’t miss him shifting in his seat.

For several long seconds, he didn’t respond. When I looked at him more fully, I saw him shake his head.

Tamping down my rising frustration, I tried again. “This playlist is just a mix of all my favorite music.”

He nodded, and I knew what he was doing.

“You can talk when I speak to you. It’s kind of rude to ignore me.”

He sighed and his frustration was evident in his tone. “You said I wasn’t allowed to talk, so I was taking you at your word. Not trying to upset you.”

“Ignoring me is a surefire way to upset me if that’s what you’re trying to avoid.”

“Hard to do when everything I do pisses you off.”

“I could say the same about you,” I snapped back and he didn’t argue.

I chanced another glance in his direction and caught a hint of a smile pulling at one corner of his mouth.

“What the hell are you smiling about?”

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