Page 91 of Wildly Inappropriate

She turns and makes her way toward the entrance, her steps the only noise as she leaves. As she reaches to open the door, it opens wide, revealing a surprising face on the other side.

“Jameson Walker,” my mother hisses. “Of course you’re part of this too. You’ve always been a terrible influence on JT.”

His eyes dance with amusement despite her ire. “Patricia. It’s always such a pleasure to see you.” My friend steps to the side, holding the door open for my mom to exit. “Let’s do it again sometime,” he says as she walks by.

The three of us stand there watching my mom climb into the fancy black sports car I got her last year for Christmas, one with every top-of-the-line safety feature I could find. We wait for her to leave in silence as if there is an unspoken agreement we need to ensure she’s gone before we can move on. My mom drives away, and even though I know I shouldn’t, I feel a pang of guilt slide through me.

“Hey, Sam,” I say, not taking my eyes off the spot where my mother’s car just was. “Can you please see if Doctor Burbanks can fit me in for a call this afternoon?”

“Yep,” he says, pulling out his phone and moving back toward the kitchen. “I’m on it.”

Jameo is still standing by the door, holding it open like he’s not sure if he should come in or walk right back out.

“Who’s Doctor Burbanks?” he asks.

“The therapist I’ve been seeing,” I say, pulling my eyes away from the street when— “Holy cow,” I say, taking in the pile of white mailing envelopes sitting on my front doorstep. “My mom wasn’t joking about there being a bunch of packages out there. It looks like I’m obsessed with late-night infomercials.”

“You didn’t know they were there?” Jameo asks.

“No. I never use that door, and I haven’t been in a shopping mood lately.”

“You should open them.”

There’s something about his tone that makes me realize he’s not just interested in what scrub brush I ordered off QVC.

“Why? What’s in them?”

Jameo sighs before bending down and gently throwing the packages through the door. “Just open them, JT.”

I lean over and pick one up, my gaze immediately going to the Wild Bluffs address in the return spot. Suddenly, it feels like my heart is trying to escape my chest, and I’m not sure I can do it.

“You’ll regret it if you don’t,” Jameo offers as he shuts the door, moving into the house with me.

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to will courage into my veins. With a deep breath, I pull the perforated section off the bag and reach my hand inside. It’s…a book. I pull out the paperback novel, the cover giving it away as some variety of contemporary romance.

“It’s a book,” I say, staring down at the illustration of the woman on the front. “Why did she send me this?”

“Well, I don’t know much about books, but they do say you’re not supposed to judge them by the cover. Maybe try opening it up to see if you get any more meaning from the inside?”

Slightly terrified of what I’ll find, I open the book to a random page in the middle, and realize Lila’s annotated it in the same way we did the pirate book. I flip through the pages and find her thoughts, her questions, and her comments meant just for me.

“This at least explains why you haven’t reached out to her,” Jameo says.

“What…what do you mean?” I ask.

“She’s been doing this for weeks now, sending you books about guys who made mistakes but then came back stronger. Well, she’s been reading them since Vegas, she only decided to send them to you like a week ago.”

“But why?”

“I have a couple of guesses, but I think it would likely mean more coming from her. Maybe you should call her?”

“I’m not sure I’m ready for that,” I admit.

“Maybe you should work on getting ready, then.”

“I am,” I promise. “I swear I am putting in the work to become the man she deserves.”

Chapter forty-four

---