Page 37 of Never Really Over

Her expression falls and I see the regret written all over her face. “Colt, I…”

I sigh and hold up a hand to stop her from saying anything more. “No. Just… no. I don’t want to hear your excuses. When you broke up with me, I knew what you thought of me then and this fun little walk down memory lane just solidified it for me. You might say you didn’t mean it, but deep down you do. I know you think that we’re low class idiots and you know what? Maybe we are. I am who I am and I’m perfectly happy with that. But something tells me that might not be the case for you.”

I don’t give her a chance to respond, I just open the door for her to walk through.

And she does.

Last time I watched her go.

This time, I don’t care enough.

Dalton was wrong about one thing. We really are over.

Chapter Seven

Layla

Stone

That didn’t go as planned. Notone bit. He was right. I was judgmental and a snob and quite the bitch, actually. The thing is, I don’t even think that way about him or the friends he still has but I once did, too, so I’m not sure why I said it.

Scratch that.

I do know.

I’m jealous.

So damn jealous I couldn’t even think straight.

Those friends of ours were the best and I got it in my head that I was too good for Hollow Grove and ended up ruining everything. Then I was gone for so long I allowed every friendship I’d built crumble to dust. The girls, Missy, Jenna, and Amy, and I were a group of best friends. None of us had many close friends until eighth grade when we all had a class together and something clicked. From then on, we were tight. Until I left.

I’m jealous that those three are still friends.

I hate that I allowed myself to believe that they weren’t worth my time.

I sit in my car in Colt’s driveway, crying over lost time and words that I didn’t mean to say. Flipping down the visor, I look at myself in the mirror and cringe. I was in such a panic that I left the house looking like… well, I’ve seen better days, that’s for sure. I still have yesterday’s makeup on because I was too tired last night to take it off. And it didn’t fare well during the night. My hair is in a messy bun, emphasis on messy. My pajamas are actually decent, but inappropriate to be out in public in. The booty shorts and tiny tee don’t leave much to the imagination. And the boots. Oh, for fuck’s sake — I just slipped my feet into the rubber boots Mom usually wears when she’s working in the garden. Bright yellow with a daisy print. Cute, yes, but not for coming face-to-face with an ex-boyfriend.

Theex-boyfriend, in fact.

And damn did he ever look good.

Great.

Sexy.

Seeing him with Poppy made my insides tingle. The stubble on his face made me want to rub up against him. He’s gotten bigger, too. Taller? No. That’s not it. Just broader and more muscles. It’s late summer and hot as hell here in Iowa, but he was wearing jeans anyway. Probably wears them a lot when he’s doing chores. That was what he used to do, anyway. And those jeans were made for him. Had to be. His thighs filled out the pant legs perfectly and his butt? My gosh.

His t-shirt wasn’t skin tight or fitted, just a plain old gray pocket t-shirt that hung a little loose around his waist. But the clincher was he was barefoot. What is it about a guy in jeans and no shoes or socks? Comfortable and casual and honestly, I challenge the gray sweatpants look to a hard-working man in jeans any day.

That’s not the first time I’ve had this thought, actually.

It’s one of the reasons I’m still single. All the men I met and dated, and thought I wanted, worked in an office and drove luxury cars. They wore suits for work and drank top-shelf whiskey. They didn’t know how to change the oil in their car because they didn’t care to know. I thought that’s what I wanted. Someone the opposite of the people I’d always known. I accepted Jasper’s proposal but I was lying to myself. I didn’t love him with that intense, never-get-over-you love. He did us both a favor by cheating on me.

In reality, I didn’t want a man who couldn’t appreciate the simple things in life.

Camping in tents in the dead of summer, cooking over a fire, sitting on a deck, sipping a beer out of a can after a long day’s work, catching lightning bugs in mason jars, weeding the garden… a million things I didn’t think I’d miss about Hollow Grove and now I’m desperate to get that time back.

To the depths of my soul, I want those things.

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