“I’ll get your info from Harlen. We can set up a meet tomorrow, or I’ll swing by the shop in the morning.”
“Sounds good,” I agree and chance a look at June’s front door. This time, it’s closed and I rub my chest over my heart, wondering when the fucking pain there will go away.
Chapter 3
June
Moving around my room after adjusting the sheets, I toss the duvet from the floor onto the bed. I sleep rough; I always have. I know there are people who can fall asleep in one position then stay that way the whole night, but that’s not me. I move constantly, so much so that I’ve fallen off the bed in the middle of the night more times than I can count.
Grabbing the ends of the duvet, I struggle to lift it like they do in laundry detergent commercials then give up, letting it fall into place messily. When I bought it a year ago, I didn’t go cheap. It’s probably three-inches thick, full of feathers. Between my duvet and the feather-top mattress pad on my bed, I fall asleep in heaven every night. Tossing the pillows on next, I then fling the throw blanket, which serves no other purpose than to be cute, onto the corner then stand back, admiring my handy work.
I love the bedroom set my mom picked out. I told her what I wanted when I knew I was going to buy my house, and she took over from there. The distressed wood of the bedframe, dresser, and side tables make the room feel warm, while the dusty purple duvet cover that looks like velvet, and grey toss pillows and sheets, make it elegant. Creating a mental list to pick up curtains and to find lamps, I head for the bathroom to finish getting ready, since my dad will be here to take me to lunch soon. Turning on the bathroom light, I sigh when I see my reflection. I don’t like wearing a lot of makeup, but the dark circles under my eyes leave me no choice. Digging through my makeup drawer, I find my tube of concealer and go to work.
Seeing Evan again is taking a toll on me. I can’t sleep, and my mind is in a constant state of turmoil. I wake up in the middle of the night from dreams of us. The memories of him, of us, are too much. Some memories have the ability to heal, the ability to light up the dark, because the beauty of the memory is so bright, you’re still able to bask in it.
But the memories of us are killing me slowly. They remind me that for one moment, I had everything, while reminding me it’s gone. It’s the realization that we’re done that’s torturing me. The realization that I can see him but can’t touch him, that he exists but he’s not mine, is agonizing. Hell, yesterday, when me and JJ watched him ride down the block on his motorcycle, I swear I wanted to push the door open, run into his arms, and beg him to take me. He looked…he looked—well, I guess there are no words for the way he looked. All I know is between the tequila and seeing him ride, when I went to bed last night, I took my BOB with me and spent an ungodly amount of time getting off.
Pulling my face away from the mirror, I check my work. The bags are not as noticeable anymore, and hopefully, with some bronzer and blush, my dad will be none the wiser. Stepping into my closet that’s attached to the bathroom, I push boxes aside until I find the one I marked Dresses, rip the tape off, and dig through until I find what I’m looking for. Taking off my shirt, I drop it to the floor, not bothering with a bra because I have no boobs, and slip the dress on over my head. The slim straps and thin cotton material is perfect for the humid Tennessee heat. Grabbing a pair of simple leather sandals, I push my feet into them then head for the door when I hear a car pull up outside.
“Hey, Dad.” I smile, opening the door for him before he even has a chance to knock, then step back and let him into the house.
“June Bug.” He leans down, kissing my cheek. When he pulls back, he engulfs half my face with his big hand. “You look tired,” he states quietly as his eyes study me.
“I’m okay. Moving always sucks.” I let out a breath and look away to finish my lie. “I want everything unpacked already, so I’ve been staying up late and waking up early to get it done.”
“June, what’s going on?”
“Nothing.” I smile, and his voice drops to the ‘dad tone’ that says, Don’t lie to me.
“June.”
“I’m fine, Dad. I promise, just tired.” I wave my hand around and start to head for the living room to grab my purse, but his hand grabs mine, stopping me in my tracks, and I turn to face him once more.
“I know you’re lying.” He shakes his head and continues quietly, “Not sure when my girls all started keeping shit from me, but I gotta say, I don’t like it.” His hand comes back to my face and his eyes search mine. “I love you, more than anything in this world, and nothing will ever change that.” He kisses my forehead then leans back, catching my eyes again. “If you need someone to talk to, I’m here, and if not, your mom doesn’t love you as much as I do, but I’m sure she’d hear you out too.” Rolling my eyes at the comment about Mom, I wrap my arms around his waist and squeeze.
“I know. Love you, Dad.”
“Always, baby girl.” His lips touch the top of my head, where he asks, “You ready to go eat?”
“Yes, can we take my car?”
“Fuck no,” he replies immediately without even thinking about it, and I can’t help it, I laugh leaning back. “It would make me feel better.” I pout, and he shakes his head.
“Not happening. Get your bag. I’m driving.” He lets me go and I do as he says, before meeting him back at the front door so he can drive us to lunch.
“Thank you.” I smile at our waiter as he slides a double cheeseburger and onion rings in front of me and the same thing in front of my dad.
“Let me know if you need anything else,” he returns then walks off. I have no idea why this is my favorite place to eat; the customer service is lacking big time. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone who works here smile. Then I take a bite of my cheeseburger and remember why I don’t care that the people who work here are rude.
“When do you start your new job?” Dad asks, squirting ketchup on his plate.
“Next Monday.” I swallow my bite of cheeseburger then dip one of my onion rings in ranch dressing. “It’s not ideal teaching summer school, but the principal told me that with me working now, he can pretty much guarantee me a spot when summer ends.”
“I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks, Dad,” I mumble, watching him lift his hand and wave over my shoulder. Glancing behind me, my lungs freeze when I see my cousin Sage followed by Evan heading toward us.
“Yo,” Sage greets, grinning.
“Hey, bud.” My dad scoots over in the booth, and Sage leans over to kiss my cheek, mumbling, “Hi” before taking a seat next to him.
“Mr. Mayson.” Evan shakes my dad’s hand then looks down at me, and I scoot over without thinking, making room for him. He takes a seat next to me…right next to me.
This cannot be happening.
“You know my daughter, Evan?” Dad asks, and as Evan turns to me, there is something in his eyes I can’t read, but it doesn’t look good. My heartbeat kicks up as his eyes go back to my dad.
“We’ve met.”