Page 9 of Right Place, Right Time (Second Chances)
No. It couldn’t be.
He was so adamant that I leave him alone. There’s no way he would have come all this way just for me. It’s just a coincidence.
You know he had only been trying to push you away…to keep you safe.
I curse the voice in my head for being so logical. So what if he’d followed me here? It’s probably just to check on me and that’s it. Like an older brother would check on his little sister. That’s probably all he sees me as anyway…the little girl stuck on the side of the road…a damsel in distress.
Not the way I look at him. Not that way at all.
Ten minutes later, I pull into the parking lot of my apartment complex and park. He pulls his bike in the space beside me.
“There’s no parking across the street,” I tell him, looking over at the park.
“Nice car,” he says, lifting his chin towards my SUV. “It’s new.”
“Thanks. It was a gift. I got it when I left for school.” My car, a silver 2012 BMW X3, was my high school graduation present from my parents. It’s fully loaded with a leather interior and a moon roof, and was delivered straight to my California apartment the summer I’d moved here after high school. The only thing it’d been missing was a bow.
“I bet it doesn’t break down on the side of the highway.”
I shake my head, holding back a smile at his slight playfulness. “No, I take it in for routine maintenance.” I’m much more responsible with this vehicle than I had been with my old Mercedes back in high school. I’m not sure I’ll ever be sorry about that, though, since that car is what led me to meet Jay in the first place. “Wanna walk?” I ask, ready to move out from under his intense gaze.
“Lead the way,” he says, extending his arm out and bowing slightly.
I giggle at the formal gesture, and we walk side-by-side across the parking lot. When we get to the curb, he takes my hand before looking both ways, then crossing the street. His touch sends a shockwave straight through my system. I look up at him, to see if he feels it, too, but his face is a mask of indifference.
Figures. I feel the earth move, and it’s just another day for him. He’s probably touched so many women that little ol’ me won’t make a bit of difference. When we reach the other side of the street, he lets go of my hand.
We sit across from one another at a picnic table in the park, and I shiver, wishing I’d brought a jacket. It was a warm day, but the evening breeze has brought with it quite a chill. Jay sees my dilemma and pulls off his leather jacket, handing it to me over the table. I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, so I eagerly accept it.
“Thank you,” I tell him as I shrug on the oversized coat. “Let me know if you get cold, and I’ll give it back.” He gives me an odd look, as if a man telling a woman he’s cold is not likely to ever happen. Maybe he’s right. I don’t spend a lot of time in the casual company of others, except for my roommate, but she can be as socially awkward as I am, so I don’t think that counts.
“So…pre-med, huh?”
