Page 93 of Stay for Me
He heads out, and I turn toward the grave. I squat and press my palm to the top of the headstone. “Hey, Mom.” Each time I come here and talk, I feel ridiculous in the beginning. Rationally, I know she’s not here. This place really doesn’t hold her, but seeing her name makes it feel like she might be.
“It seems that you’re having a busy day here with your needy sons. I wish I was here to tell you good news, but nothing like a baby or a marriage from me. Instead, I’m not sure what I really came out here for. Maybe I just needed to talk and have no one give me their advice.”
That’s most likely the real reason. “I met a girl. She’s everything you would want for me, Mom. Plus, she has these two kids who are great too.” I release a heavy sigh, hearing the shift in my voice as I think of Brenna. “My feelings don’t matter because I can’t bring her into my world. I can’t give her the kind of life she needs. There’s no stability, privacy, or chance at real happiness like she would want. She wants to live a life that someone like Connor could give her. Where the man she loves is reliable and around.”
Brenna telling me that she felt alone even though she was married was that nail in the coffin. When I’m shooting a movie, I’m gone for months. There are no big breaks in the movie schedule I’m currently signed on for either.
“The thing is, even though I know all of this, I want to be around her,” I admit. “I keep telling myself that whatever I’m feeling will go away, but then I see her, and I want to kiss her, pull her into my arms, and . . .” I look back down at the name and remember that my mother probably isn’t the right person to confess that last part to. “I like her. I like her a lot. Mom, I could love her, and wouldn’t that be the fucking biggest joke?”
I try to imagine what my mother would say. I have no idea if her infinite wisdom would’ve extended into adulthood. Maybe she only had the right words for us as kids or we glorified the way she always knew what to say. I don’t think that last part is true because she really did. If we were sad, she could make us happy. If we were lost, she was the compass to show us where to go.
“I could really use your help because I’m afraid that I’m going to mess up, tell her how I feel, and not be able to fix it. How do I make myself not fall in love with her? Or how do I pretend I’m not already there?”
I may be an actor, but I can’t fool myself.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Brenna
The kids are staying at their friends’ houses, and I’m sitting in the living room, drinking a glass of wine, and eating chips. It’s not a glamorous evening, but it’s exactly what I need. The last few days have been difficult. My feelings for Jacob are growing, and as much as I tell myself to stop, I find it impossible.
I am in love with Jacob. Head-over-heels, want-to-write-his-name-on-my-notebook-a-hundred-times, carve-our-initials-in-a-tree kind of love.
So, I have to start preparing for a cataclysmic heartbreak. I lied to myself when I said I could do just sex with anyone. I’m a commitment girl, and apparently, I have a heart that doesn’t care about what I tell it.
When he leaves, I’ll break, and it’ll suck, but as Cybil says—I’ll survive. In the meantime, I need to protect myself as much as I can.
So, while what I want to do is call him and tell him to leave his door open for me, what I’m going to do is watch crappy television and not think about anything.
Only, as soon as my ass is nice and comfortable in the chair, there’s a knock at the door. I groan as I get up, wondering who is disturbing my night of rest, and see someone who I am not at all unhappy to have here.
“Jacob.”
So much for that plan.
“Sebastian texted me,” he says with a grin.
“Oh?”
“He said that he and Mel were out at their friends’ houses, so he couldn’t play a video game tonight.”
I lean against the door, smiling that my son gave Jacob the idea to come over. Also hating that I’m smiling because this is against the plan I just put in place. “So, you thought, hmm, that would be a perfect time to go seduce his mother?”
He steps forward, pulling me into his arms. “Can she be seduced?”
I feel like Renee Zellweger inJerry Maguire. He had me at the knock on the door. I didn’t stand a chance. “Oh, I’m sure she can.”
He leans down, pressing his lips to mine. “Then I better get to work.”
We both move at the same time, and I kick the door closed with my foot, not wanting to break away from him. He tastes like sin and pleasure all wrapped up in a neat little package.
Who needs to stay away when I only have a few more months of Jacob?
His tongue slides against mine, and I moan. This man does something to me, and I can’t explain it. It’s as though he reaches into me, takes the broken parts, and mends them. My heart will be decimated when he leaves Sugarloaf, but I don’t want to stop this.
His hands are in my hair, pulling it free from the ponytail, before they move down my back, holding me tighter to his body.
“Jacob,” I say softly.
