Author: Cheryl McIntyre

2. Everybody needs someone in their life they can rely on. Try to be that person.

3. Take a chance.

4. Love whole-heartedly. (Unless in the presence of Park Reed—in which case, guard your heart at all cost.)

5. Make it your goal to make someone smile daily.

6. Always expect more of yourself today than you did yesterday.

7. No matter how many times you’re let down, continue believing in the goodness of others.

27

Lucy

“Whatchya watching?” Bree asks, plopping down on the couch. I look up at her from my position on the floor as I stretch.

“I’m not.” I toss her the remote and lean forward to grab my toes. “I’m going for a run.”

Bree crinkles her nose and pops a chip in her mouth. “You have fun with that.”

I laugh lightly as I stand to finish my warm-up. “You can come with.”

“Mm…that’s okay. I have big plans that consist of this couch, this TV, and this bag of chips. Who am I if I abandon my life goal?”

I straighten up and rest my hands on my hips, stifling an eye roll. “And that would be what?”

“To not run unless I’m being chased.”

“If you ran, you’d have a better chance of getting away if you were ever chased,” I point out.

“No. See I’m resting up for it. With all the running you do, if you were ever chased you’d be too tired to get away. My way is so much better. And fun. And…”

“Lazy?”

“Exactly.” She smirks around another chip. “Before you go, can you bring me my laptop?”

“Oh, my God,” I sigh. “You are hopeless.”

“It’s not my fault. My parents made me this way. All those years of being told I’m a princess…it gets to a girl.”

I shake my head as I fight the grin begging to be released. “Pathetic.”

“Your mom’s pathetic.”

“Your mom has a lazy-ass daughter,” I call over my shoulder. I grab her laptop off the desk in her room and bring it out to her just like she knew I would.

“Thank you. Your mom has a sweet daughter that likes to do things for me.” She puts her palms together and bats her dark lashes. “Like getting me a can of Coke…?”

I roll my eyes and head for the door. “They’re called legs, B. And they can take you anywhere you want to go.”

“Can they take me to Jensen Ackles’ house?” she yells. “Because that’s the only place I want to go right now.”

I laugh as I let the door close behind me. Pressing my ear buds into place, I set up my playlist, and skip down the stairs. I pause near Park and Jessie’s door for just a second before continuing on.

I haven’t seen Park since he’s come home. I haven’t actually seen him since his first night in the hospital. I don’t know how I feel about that. Or him.

Part of me feels like I should go see him. He could have died and I haven’t bothered to even so much as stop by. Damn my parents for instilling stupid values in me. Guilt twists my tummy as I head out into the muggy day.

What if he’s in too much pain to take care of himself?

No. If he was that bad, Jessie would tell me.

Would he though? He doesn’t want me to have anything to do with Park. Maybe he would keep it from me on purpose. In which case, he’s probably taking care of Park himself. And Guy’s been there a lot.

Park doesn’t need me.

And I shouldn’t want him to.

But I miss him. I wonder if he misses me.

He doesn’t miss me. He made it perfectly obvious that I’m easily replaced. Just like Jared did.

I speed my pace. I need to fall into the run, let it absorb me so I can’t think about this anymore. Prying the iPod out of my pocket, I turn the volume up loud. I don’t usually do this. I typically keep it low so I can hear traffic or someone approaching me. But I need it right now.

Sweat trails down my back and in between my cleavage, beads on my forehead. It’s too hot to run. This late in the afternoon is the worst time. But again, I need it right now. Sitting in the apartment, knowing he’s just a floor below me drives me nuts.

How could he have sex with another girl—a girl with a boyfriend—the same day as having sex with me? Why would he do that? If he didn’t want to be with me…why not just tell me?

I thought he cared about me. I thought he was going to do his best to not hurt me. He didn’t even make it twenty-four hours. As soon as Hope showed up he lost it.

What did I do wrong? What could I have done differently?

No. This is not my fault. I didn’t do anything wrong. This isn’t on Hope either. This is all Park’s fault. He lied to me. I was honest with him and told him exactly how I felt and he used it against me.

But I thought he was going to be different with me.

That’s just what he wanted me to believe. I was a challenge and he conquered me. End of story.

But then why? Why all the talk about belonging to him? He didn’t need to say those things.

It doesn’t matter. None of it matters now.

I slow to a stop and hold my sides. I need to catch my breath. I’m cramping and I feel nauseated.

I should just go see him. If I can see he’s doing better then I’ll feel better. I can be the bigger person.

I can’t believe how close he came—

What if I lost him?

No. He was never mine to lose. He ended this the moment he left me in his apartment so he could go sleep with some other girl.

I grind out a frustrated growl as I pant, still trying to get a good breath. Park Reed is not worth all this torment.

Stop thinking about him. Forget him. Pretend he never existed.

I laugh as I start into a jog.

Yeah. Easier said than done.

***

I decided the best way to appease my guilt over my refusal to go see Park is by cooking. For him. I do it under the pretense of dinner for everybody. I have been neglecting Jess since Park’s come home and Bree’s always down for my cooking.

Really it’s my excuse to see him. If I can just see with my own eyes that he’s okay then I can move on. The only problem with this plan is getting him here. It’s not like I can get Bree or Jessie to make sure he comes along. Bree hates him and Jessie’s not going to force him over here.

I finally come up with the idea of taking the meal down to them. I’m busy packing each course into containers and placing them into a large box when Bree pops her head in.

“What are you doing?”

“Just finishing dinner,” I say casually.

“What’s up with the box?” Her dark brows scrunch as she watches me.

“I thought we could go to Jessie’s.” I try to pick up the box, but it’s kind of heavy and it’s an awkward size. I can’t get a good grip on it. I push it with my foot, kicking it toward the door.

“We’re taking it downstairs? Why? It’d be so much easier if Jessie just comes up here…”

I shrug and keep going. I know she’s going to be pissed and I really don’t feel like dealing with it, but I’ve already started this.

“You’re taking it to him,” she says, appalled.

The way she says, “him,” makes me cringe.

I stop in front of the door and sigh. “Can you help me? I can’t lift it by myself.”

“No. You do not need to make him dinner after what he did.”

“This isn’t about that. I’ve been avoiding him since he’s come home. What happened between us doesn’t matter.”

Bree’s eyes widen. “It does matter. He doesn’t deserve your cooking or your concern.”

I shake my head, my arms falling limply at my sides. “I need this, Bree. I need to do this for me. For my own peace of mind.”

She puckers her lips as she scrutinizes my features. “Fine. But I hope he chokes.” She pulls the door open and squats on one side. “And we’re bringing any leftovers home.”

“Okay,” I agree.

As we approach the second floor landing, Bree sniffs the air. “What are we having anyway?”

“Chicken. And pasta. And rosemary potatoes. And salad. And homemade bread. And pepperoni rolls. And a cake.”

She stops, causing me to walk into the box. “Umph…what?”

“Seriously?”

I shrug, the box moving slightly with the gesture. “I made all of Jessie’s favorite things.”

Bree raises her brows knowing I’m full of shit.

“It’s weird. Isn’t it?” I ask. “Let’s take it back. We can eat it ourselves.”

“We’re here. I don’t want to take it back up.”

“I feel stupid now. I thought it was a good idea at the time, but now…it’s kind of creepy, right?”

“No,” Bree insists. “It’s…nice.”

“Oh, my God. No it’s not. It’s so stupid and I have no idea what I was thinking.” I shake my head and pull on the box. “I don’t want to do this now.”

“Lu, it’s fine. I’m not taking this box back upstairs.”

“I’ll do it myself,” I huff. I tug on the box again. “Just give it here.”

“You’re going to spill it.”

“Then let it go,” I cry.

“Okay. Stop,” she sighs loudly. “Let’s just put it down for a second.”

I nod and we lower it to the floor right in front of Park’s door. I want to dash back up the steps and go to bed, really badly. This was such a bad idea. Worse even than the Pizza Fork…or Crocs, or those banana protectors. I can’t see him. I can’t do it.

“Lucy, take a breath,” Bree instructs. I look at her and inhale deeply. “Okay. Good. Now we’re here and you spent a lot of time, I’m sure, making all this food. I’m all for saying ‘Screw Park’, in fact, it’s kind of my new motto, but you said you needed to do this. If you really want me to lug this damn thing back up all those stairs, I will, but I want you to be sure because I’m not doing this again.”

I nod. “I want to take it back up.”

“Are you sure?”

I nod again. “Positive. This was dumb.”

Bree sighs again. “All right. You owe me so big for this.”

“I know,” I agree. “You can eat everything.”

She cocks a brow and stares at me for several heartbeats. “Oh, I plan on it.”

“Plan on what?” I can’t bring myself to look over at him, but I know it’s him. Even if I didn’t know his voice so well, I would recognize his scent. The crisp cologne mixed with the ashy undertone that I love so much.

No. I don’t love it. I don’t love anything about him, I remind myself.

Bree clears her throat and I hear the laughter so clearly when she says, “Uh, hi Park.”

28

Park

“Hey…” I say slowly, stretching out the one word. “I thought I heard voices.” I look at Lucy, but she’s keeping her eyes trained on the box in front of her. “What are you doing?”

Bree glances at Lucy then back at me. “Um, I’m not real sure. What are we doing, Lu?”

Closing her eyes and biting down on her lip, Lucy taps her foot several times. Finally, she spins to face me. I watch her eyes widen and then fill with tears before she starts blinking quickly. My eyes are drawn to her throat when she swallows. The memory of running my lips over her skin hits me out of nowhere and I drop my gaze.

I don’t hear her move, but suddenly Lucy’s arms are wrapped gently around my waist and she presses her face into my chest. “I’m glad you’re okay, Park.”

She steps back too quickly—I didn’t even have the chance to hug her back. “I made this for you guys.” She points at the box. “It’s food.”