Page 54 of Choosing You

Putting his arm around her, he gently guided her head to his shoulder. “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to say here,” he admitted. “Obviously we have to go, but you can give me a code word and when you say it, I’ll know it’s time to leave.”

Perking up, she stared at him. “Really?”

Nodding, he said, “Yup. Pick a word that no one will get suspicious of and when you say it, I’ll come up with an excuse to get us out of there.”

Her eyes narrowed. “And you don’t think it’s terrible that I’m not all excited about hanging out with all of them?”

“Sloane, everyone has one kind of issue or another when it comes to family. Because mine isn’t big, it’s not a big deal when we hang out. I’d imagine with as many Donovans as there are in your family, it could get overwhelming. Maybe you don’t get along with some of them, I don’t know.”

“No, I love them all. Whenever we get together, it’s fun, but…”

“But…?”

“You read the texts, right? It’s like Ihaveto be there. I know it’s childish, but whenever I’m told that I have to do something…”

“It makes you not want to do it.”

Groaning, she fell back against the cushions again. “This is where I need to work on not being so damn immature.”

“Sloane, come on. We’re all immature sometimes. Hell, if you ask anyone in town, they’ll have tons of stories about things I’ve done that appear being immature.”

“Sure, but I’ll bet most of them involve chasing after me because I was being a brat.” She knew she was whining and pouting, but she couldn’t help it. “I’m working on changing, but it would be nice if my family wasn’t just standing there reminding me of the things I’ve done. It’s embarrassing. When did it become a crime to want to have fun, huh? Why do I have to feel bad about going out and having a good time? What law says I have to settle down and have babies and live near all my relatives?”

You could have heard a pin drop, and that’s when she realized what she had just admitted out loud.

Shit.

“So…tell them,” he reasoned after several long, quiet moments. “The next time someone says something that makes you feel bad about yourself, tell them how you feel. They may give you shit about it, or…they’ll respect you and move on.”

“Wow, you seriously don’t know the Donovans very well. My parents and all my aunts and uncles? They are from the guilt-throwing generation. My generation is the snarky, poke-fun-at-you generation.”

He gave her a patient smile. “Sounds to me like you’re making excuses for not having to deal with the crap that pisses you off.”

“Maybe. Sort of like the whole scared to take that giant leap toward achieving our dreams thing we were talking about. I’m not big on confrontation. Sometimes I definitely stir the shit up and then step back and watch things explode.”

God, I really am immature…

“Sometimes that’s fun,” he countered. “Either way, if you really want to be seen as a more mature person, you’re going to have to let them know. It’s easy to assume a persona and then no one wants to see you as anything but. I’ve been the subject of some town gossip and when most people see me, they see the guy who spilled hot chocolate on himself and burned his arm at a Christmas festival. Or the guy who knocked over the candy heart display at the Valentine’s Day festival.”

“Will…”

“I’m also the guy who knocked over a drink stand and ruined most of the fireworks that were set for the big show on the Fourth of July,” he went on. “I’m not saying this to make you feel bad. I’m telling you this so you can see what I’m talking about. I still get a lot of shit about those things. I’ve had people question if they can trust me to work on their cars. To their faces I smile and laugh with them, but then I get serious and show them I’m not that guy all the time.”

“Okay, but…”

“Sometimes I am. Sometimes I’m going to be the guy who does something goofy because I lead with my heart. Some people would consider that admirable, and if I weren’t so clumsy, more people would think it too.” Another grin. “Don’t change who you are because you’re tired of people treating you a certain way. Change because you want to. Or…don’t change. If they really love you and care about you, it shouldn’t matter if you’re a…a flake or do immature things. Be the woman you want to be, not a carbon copy of who youthinkyou should be.”

“I wish it were that easy. Part of the problem is that I don’t know what I want to be. All of my friends are getting married and settling down and I’m happy for them. But I also miss doing the things we used to do.”

“I get that. A lot of people meet their significant other and that’s it. They no longer have their own identity or they don’t need anyone else. I think you need a balance. Or…” He paused, but then seemed to change his mind about what he was going to say.

“Or…?” she prompted.

The long breath he let out told her he was hesitant to finish the thought.

“Will?”

Turning his head, he looked at her. “Sometimes people are only in our lives for a season and then we’re supposed to move on. Most of the time, we lose track of childhood friends, or camp buddies, or college roommates. That’s just the way it goes sometimes. We outgrow certain friendships and, more often than not, there’s no big fight or disagreement; we just drift apart because we have different interests.”

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