Page 70 of Off Season

“Fuck!” I pull at my hair.

I’m such a fucking idiot. I’ve done exactly what he said and allowed the ghosts of my past to control me in the present.

I need to do something. I need to find a way to tell him that I don’t want what we had to be a cherished memory. I want what we had to be real.

I don’t want to be his friend.

I want to be the person he’s been waiting for. I want tobe the one who’s worthy of him, who’ll love him the way he yearns to be loved.

I’m in love with him, and I’ve fucked it all up by not letting him in.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Jacob

I’m not usually one who mopes around feeling sorry for myself. I like to keep myself busy, my mind preoccupied with anything and everything, so I have less time to think.

But since I got back to Chicago a week ago?

God. This week has been hell.

I would give anything to go back to England and go back to the cocoon that Ethan and I had wrapped ourselves up in.

I miss him.

I miss the soothing sound of his steady breathing in the morning, the feel of his warm body blanketing mine. The way he would hold me—so protective and strong—the world could crumble around us because, as long as I was in his arms, I would be safe and sound.

I promised myself that I would be okay with putting a lid on our summer fling as soon as we boarded the plane inLondon, but I don’t think I am. I don’t think I can stuff my feelings for Ethan into a box and just forget about them.

But he shut me out, like our time together meant nothing. He essentially stopped talking to me the moment we boarded the plane in London. His replies came in grunts and grumbled answers. There was no holding my hand or reassuring caresses during takeoff. His arms stayed locked, crossed over his chest, his body angled toward the window. He seemed lost in thought.

I wanted to tell him how I felt. I wanted to ask him if he would consider giving us a chance here. Taking things slowly while he focuses on his career and I still focus on the bakery. Showing him that I’m nothing like his ex-fiancé, begging to be made a priority.

But his silence and closed-off body language told me everything I needed to know.

It was just for the summer.

He did warn me, after all.

Ugh!

I know I need to talk to him. I need to stamp down my fear of having my heart broken and justtalkto him. Otherwise, I’ll never know.

Why is it so terrifying to put yourself out there when all you ever want is to love and be loved?

Alex flicks the closed sign on the door and twists the lock. He turns back to face me, arms crossed over his chest and a scowl that could rival Ethan’s.

“Okay, I’m done tiptoeing around you. Talk to me, Jake. You’ve been miserable as hell since you got home, and it’s really stressing me out.” He takes a few steps before stopping in front of me, placing his hands on the counter. His eyesare laced with worry. “What happened? I thought you had a great time in England, but since you’ve got back, things have been…different, and not in a good way.”

The backs of my eyes start to burn as I stare at Alex’s concerned expression. I’ve buried my head in the sand, only giving vague answers whenever I’m asked about my time there, letting them know it was lovely and great and fun.

“I did what I said I wasn’t going to do,” I admit. “I fell in love with him.”

If Alex is surprised, he doesn’t show it. His face softens, those kind eyes that are an exact replica of our father’s looking at me with love, not pity.

“Oh, Jake,” he says softly. “Does he know?”

I shake my head, quickly swiping my fingers under my eyes, my breath coming out in a shaky exhale.

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