Page 30 of All the Right Moves

One small thing.

Chapter Seventeen

Jenna

Sitting on the couch, I run my fingers through my wet hair, trying to comb out some of the tangles. It would be way more manageable with a brush, but it’s all the way in the bathroom, and that seems so far away.

Momma stopped by this morning and hung out while I took a shower to ensure I didn’t hurt myself again. It wasn’t nearly as eventful as when Shane came over to help, though.

Shane.

I’ve tried not to think about him, but it’s hard not to wonder what went wrong last night. Maybe he’s just not interested, which is fine. I guess I just misread all the signals I thought he was giving me.

Oh well. Back to my loneliness. Momma offered to stay and hang out with me, but I told her I wasn’t feeling great and just wanted to rest. I guess neither one of those is untrue. A nap does sound heavenly.

Deciding to do just that, I lie down on the overstuffed couch and attempt to get comfortable. The cast on my leg doesn’t make that easy, but I do the best I can.

Grabbing the remote, I turn something boring on the TV, and it doesn’t take long before my eyes get heavy and I feel myself drifting off.

I’m almost completely asleep when I think I hear a faint knock on the door. It’s so quiet that I’m not even sure if it’s just in my head. But the second, louder knock confirms that it’s indeed real.

“Coming,” I grumble as I roll off the couch and start hopping toward the door.

I can’t imagine who it could be. Everyone in my family either has a key or would just walk in. And let’s be honest, my family is about all I have anymore.

When I finally swing the door open, my jaw about hits the ground. Shane is standing there, holding two large bags.

I have no idea why he’s here, and it takes my brain a moment to process it all.

Should I be mad at him?

Should I be excited that he’s here?

I don’t know if Ishouldbe happy to see him, but I am.

“Shane?” I ask, not quite sure what else to say.

“Jenna.” He smiles. “It occurs to me that I owe you one hell of an apology.”

“Oh?” Apparently, I’ve lost my ability to speak more than one word at a time.

He nods. “Yep. And if you’ll let me, I’d like to try to make it up to you.”

I’m still trying to process what he’s saying, and when I don’t immediately respond, he holds up the bags and says, “If it helps, I brought goodies.”

As much as my brain protests, my mouth can’t help but smile. “Alright, come on in,” I say while moving out of the way.

He walks inside and sets the two bags on the coffee table while I carefully make my way back to the couch.

Once I’m seated, he sits down next to me. Those dark blue eyes of his look at me for a moment before he starts talking. “I wanted to apologize for yesterday. I got all weird and walked out of here without any type of explanation.”

Clearing my throat, I say, “So, what was your excuse?”

He lets out a soft laugh. “The only excuse I can give is that I’m a chicken shit.”

“Huh?”

He rubs his hand along my jaw. “The truth is that I used to have quite the crush on you back in the day. Seeing you again seemed to confirm that maybe it’s still there.”

---