Page 70 of Dear John

“In what way?”

“Well, when I watch over Anna—see what I did there? It’s never stalking. Women tend to frown on that. When I watch over Anna, I flat out tell her that I will be watching. She doesn’t know how, but she knows I’m around. Just like when I took her under my wing all those years ago. I made it very clear it was not kidnapping.”

“It was kidnapping.”

“Yes, but if you tell them enough it’s not, they start to believe it.”

“That’s Stockholm Syndrome.”

He grinned widely at me, pulling me through the lobby to exit the building. “Man, you and your semantics. You have to let that go and embrace the crazy. The reality of the situation is that you don’t trust her on her own.”

“Yes, I do.”

“No, you really don’t. If you did, you would let her go about her day without holding onto her like she’s going to slip through your fingers at any second. Your trust level is down here,” he said, holding his hand at knee height. “Where you want it is around here,” he said, moving his hand up just an inch.

“You barely moved your hand!”

“Well, you can’t give them too much trust. That’s when they get kidnapped by serial killers.”

“Fox, none of this is making any sense.”

“Sure it is. It’s like eating Funyuns.”

I rolled my eyes, knowing I was going to regret this. “And how is that?”

“Well, say you’re eating regular Funyuns. Full of flavor and life—they are the epitome of a great snack. Delicious onion flavor, crunchy goodness dusted in that yellow coating, the perfect size to fit on your finger or twirl around when you’re feeling blue…” He frowned, looking over at me. “Where was I? Oh, right! If you let them grow, you’ll find another great flavor.” He winked at me. “That’s Flamin’ Hot Funyuns. Totally different and totally amazing.”

I couldn’t believe that actually made sense. “So, you’re saying that if I give her a little more of my trust, she’ll surprise me.”

He frowned at me. “Dude, I was just talking about how amazing Funyuns are. But sure, I guess that makes sense.”

He tugged on my shirt, dragging me into a bar. The last thing I felt like doing was drinking, but when in Rome. Or another state with Fox. We walked over to the bar and took a seat, waiting patiently for the bartender to head our way.

All around, women eyed us. I used to love the feel of a woman’s gaze on me, wondering if she would have the confidence to approach me. A woman like that was feistier in the bedroom, willing to explore all kinds of sexual experiences. But a woman shy and demure, that was always a fun adventure. They seemed to be even more grateful for the time you gave them. And I used to eat that shit up, giving them all of me just so I could have them lavish me with praise at the end of the night.

But as I looked around at all these women, desperate for a night of fun, I found myself wishing I could just get Isla to open the fucking door and let me in. This scene was no longer appealing to me. All I wanted was the one woman who had pounced back into my life and made me want something more than a cheap thrill on a Saturday night.

“What can I get you?” the bartender asked, tossing a rag over his shoulder.

“Do you have a Funyuns sort of drink?” Fox asked.

“A what?”

“You know, Funyuns, but in a drink.”

“You want me to take Funyuns and dump them in a drink,” the man repeated. “I don’t have any Funyuns.”

Fox grinned at him. “I have an emergency bag on me,” he said, sliding his hand into his cargo pants and pulling out a snack pack. His eyes were remorseful as he turned to me. “Sorry I lied about not having any. You understand I couldn’t risk you stealing what little snacks I had left.”

“Of course,” I said in mock seriousness. I didn’t give a shit about his Funyuns, but they were important to him.

“So, if you could match this flavor in one of your drinks, that would be really awesome.”

“I’m afraid we don’t carry Funyuns flavored drinks.”

Fox snorted. “Obviously. If you did, it would be sold out. Maybe that’s what I need to do. I should start a Funyunsdistillery! That would be so amazing. What do you say we wrap this up and head back to Kansas for some good old-fashioned brewing?”

“You know, as…amazing as that sounds, I think I’ll find something else to do.”

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