Page 4 of The Last Time

When I was at Layla’s house, and nobody thought I was looking, I would watch how he was with her. He always had his hands on her, smiling, kissing her cheek, attending to her needs.

I vowed that summer to make sure I’d find a boyfriend just like Asher.

To say I’ve failed at that would be an understatement. My luck with men is almost laughable.

“Okay,” Layla says as she stands back in her spot at the end of the bar. “Sorry about that.”

“No problem at all.”

“I still can’t believe you’re here, and for the entire summer. It’s just like we’re teenagers again. Give me your number. We have to hang out.”

I reach into my purse and pull out my business card.

She looks down, and her eyes widen.

“You work for the NFL?” she gasps with excitement. “Are you freakin’ kidding me?”

I giggle at her response. I’m used to it by now. I find it amusing how grown adults can still act like kids over silly things. It’s refreshing to be around someone who is willing to show that side of them.

“Yes, I work for the NFL. I’m a Marketing Manager, but my cell phone number is on there.”

“Oh yeah.” She reaches for a pen and paper behind her. “Here’s Asher’s cell.”

My stomach does a weird flip-flop as I watch her write down my high school crush’s number for me. I can’t believe my body is reacting like this after all this time.

“Give him a call. I’m sure he remembers you.” Doubtful, I think to myself. “He’s really good and can probably help get your water working quickly. If not, just give me a call. You are always welcome to stay at my place for a little while.”

“Thanks,” I smile as I take the paper from her. “That’s so kind of you.”

“Well, I should get back to work. It was so nice running into you.”

“You too,” I tell her, and I mean it.

Seeing her again feels like no time at all has passed between us. I have always felt like my true self in this town.

I think that’s why it was so painful when Dad tarnished the memories for me.

On my way back to the house, my nerves go into overdrive. I need the water working as soon as possible, which means I can waste no time calling Asher.

Chapter Two

Asher

“Dude,youneedtomove. This house is way too small for the two of you,” my brother Eric says to me.

“Noted,” I grumble over the pot of chili on the stove, trying to focus on the smell of the food rather than his words.

He leans further back into the chair at the kitchen table. “I’m serious. I don’t understand why you were in such a hurry to move out of the other house.”

My hand grips the spatula with such force that I’m surprised it doesn’t snap.

Nobody knows why I moved so quickly, and that’s how I intend to keep it. But it doesn’t stop the secret from tearing me up on the inside. I’m just hoping one day, I’ll wake up and find that the anger inside of me is gone.

Today is not that day.

“Daddy!” my three-year-old, and the only thing that can make me smile, comes walking up to me.

I lean down to pick her up and kiss her chubby little cheek.

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