Page 45 of Second Chance Ex
“Prue, can I please talk to you?” he asks after a silent moment, his voice low and gruff. His gaze flits to Madison as he says, “Alone?”
I glance sideways at my best friend. She meets my eyes and silently checks I’m okay with this, and with great reluctance, I nod.
Madison stands and walks past Joey on her way back inside, muttering something to him on her way that I don’t quite catch. But, if I know my bestie, it was likely a threat of cutting off his balls if he doesn’t behave.
Joey stares back at the door long after it’s closed, as if he’s taking the moment to collect whatever it is he needs to collect in order to talk to me. And I get it.
It’s just the two of us out here on the porch which now suddenly seems so small, Joey’s big frame taking up so much space as he usually does. His gaze doesn’t meet mine when he looks at me, tentatively approaching. He sits on the stone ledge less than a few inches away, and I’m suddenly inundated by the familiarity of his presence. I stare straight ahead, refusing to look at him, but I can feel his eyes on me, feel him right there; it’s almost too much.
“I shouldn’t have said what I said.” His voice is raw and edged with an emotion I’m way too familiar with.
I don’t respond immediately, and for a long moment we just sit there, neither of us saying a thing. I briefly consider leaving him out here to think about what he’s done, because I can’t bear to be this close to him when we’ve been drinking, when we’re both obviously so emotional.
“Why did you then?”
Joey mutters something under his breath, and I see him scrub his hands over face with a heavy sigh. “Because I’m a jealous fucker.”
I turn, gawping at him. Did I just hear him right? My brows dip in confusion as I search his eyes. “You what?”
“You have no fucking idea what it did to me tonight, seeing his hand on your thigh, on your skin, his fucking thumb stroking that spot where your neck meets your shoulder.”
Holy shit.The spot he’s talking about seems to tingle at its mention, and I don’t miss the way his eyes darken as they dip down to my lips, something igniting deep in my chest.
“I thought it was only me who knew about that spot.” His gaze zeros in on the crook of my neck, and a vision of us together appears in my mind; his lips, his tongue, teeth gently grazing the sensitive skin there, causing my back to arch, goosebumps prickling all over.
I feel my body shudder at the faded memory.
“You can’t say those kinds of things, Joey,” I chastise, although my voice is nothing more than a pathetic, breathy whisper.
With a self-deprecating chuckle Joey shakes his head, tongue rolling over his bottom lip as if he’s contemplating his words. And for a moment I think he’s going to really say something, something profound that stilts me. But all he offers is a muttered, “I know. I’m sorry.”
I notice his big hands grip the stone ledge so tight his knuckles turn white, and I wonder if it’s because if he doesn’t grip the ledge then he might touch me. And I hate that all I want right now is to feel those hands on me.
“You know what my biggest regret is, Prue, and it has nothing to do with fucking football.”
Reluctantly, I meet his eyes and see nothing but earnestness in them, which matches the raw sound in his voice, rough and low like the words hurt him to say.
He tears his gaze from mine with a shake of his head, choosing instead to look out over the lake. “I guess seeing that you’ve moved on with someone knew, it just hurts more than I ever imagined it could. I fucked up, and I lost the best thing that ever happened to me, and I’m still not over it.”
“You have agirlfriend, Joey. You’ve moved on too,” I remind him with a bitter scoff, because he really has moved on. Unlike me, who’s a big, fat faker. “You think it’s easy for me to see you with someone new… someone likeher.”
Our eyes meet again, and I notice something in his stare; a realization of sorts. But he doesn’t say a word, something confronting passing between us. And I don’t know if it’s the mention of the past, or the time we’ve both spent dwelling over our regrets, missing each other and wishing things could have turned out differently, but there’s definitely something there. And it’s taking all I have not to confess the truth about Adam right now. But then what? He’s with Jessie. And even if he decided to end things with her, too much has happened between us.I always thought Joey and I were each other’s one true love. But we weren’t. We were each other’s first love. And the shitty thing about first love is that it always ends, and when it does, it usually ends badly.
“Are you happy, Prue?”
Joey’s question catches me off guard. I look at him, once again taken aback by his unexpected words.No.
“With Hopper?” he clarifies.
“Yes.” I nod, not meeting his eyes in case he sees straight through me.
“That’s all I want. For you to be happy.”
I look up at the sound of his wavering words, and my heart stammers in my chest at the glimmer of tears in his eyes.
“If Hopper makes you happy then,” he swallows hard, “that’s all that matters.”
Joey places his hand on my shoulder, squeezing me lightly through the thick jacket I’m wearing. Then he leans in and places a lingering kiss to the top of my head, and I hate the way my body reacts to his closeness; the way it feels like a long-forgotten flame has been ignited in the pit of my belly. I want to reach out and grab him, never let him go, but I can’t. He’s not mine anymore.
