Page 15 of Love You Still
Of all the things I thought Connor was going to tell me, that wasn’t one of them. I haven’t seen or heard from Selina since Lydia’s funeral. She didn’t say a word to me, just sat in the back of the church, her head cast down with tears streaming down her cheeks as she mourned the loss of her best friend. I had tried desperately to keep the connection between us alive after that, but she shut me out, leaving me with another scar on my already damaged heart.
Our sporadic phone calls and text messages turned into nothing. Finally, about a year after Lydia’s death, I gave up and wrote her a letter to say goodbye. It tore my heart to shreds, admitting that our love wasn’t strong enough to survive the distance, but I needed her to know that I’d always love her, even if it was from a distance.
I’ve spent most of our time apart wondering what went wrong, imagining how things would have gone differently if I’d had a chance to talk to her face-to-face when she’d come back to town. I should’ve tried harder to get her to come back, but when she didn’t even bother to speak to me at our friend’s funeral, I knew it was time to let her go.
We spent so many nights rocking on the old porch swing at her parents’ house, making plans for our future together. Sure, we were young, but I knew the moment I laid eyes on her thatwe were meant to be together. Hell, I still do. Although my mind decided it was time for me to move on from Selina, my heart never got the memo. Just the mention of her name brings back all those feelings I’ve shoved deep into my soul, trying to forget how things could have been if I had only manned up and asked to go with her. To be a part of this new life she was creating for herself outside of Tyson’s Creek and away from me.
“Does she look happy?” I question, wanting to know everything about her life since she left town all those years ago.
“She looks good, but the light she once had in her eyes has dimmed.” Connor leans against his desk. “She plans to take over the dance studio from Ms. Cassandra. I was giving her an estimate on some repairs she wants to make before she starts teaching classes again.”
“How long is she in town?” I murmur as I lift my head and stare at my friend.
My heart pounds loudly in my chest as I try to focus on what is going on around me, but my mind is only on one thing. Get to Selina before it’s too late. Before she leaves again without a word.
He pulls out his own chair and pauses, probably attempting to gauge my reaction to the news. “I don’t know.”
A sense of longing fills me as I stand quickly, knocking the chair to the ground. Turning quickly to my desk, I grab my keys and rush to the door.
“I have to go,” I say over my shoulder as the door slams behind me.
A few of the guys try to get my attention, but I’m focused on one thing: seeing Selina. I’ve imagined for years what I’d say to her when she finally came back to town, but right now, I can’t think of a single thing. Instead, my mind is swirling with a million questions. I want to know everything that has happenedduring every moment of her life since she left me broken-hearted without a word.
I should be angry, ready to demand answers for her behavior, but right now, the only thing I feel is longing. My soul is crying out in pure joy that she has come back to me. I tried to forget Selina, to forget what we shared, but it was no use. We belong together, and now I finally have my chance to prove it to her.
With my mind made up, I climb into my truck and speed over to the dance studio, pulling quickly into a parking spot. I freeze as I glimpse her locking up the studio. My chest aches with a longing I haven’t felt in years. Gone is the tall, skinny girl I once knew, replaced by a stunning woman. She’s wearing a fitted red top with her long dark hair pulled back in a tight ponytail. The perfectly round globes of her ass are covered in tight-fitting jeans, just begging for me to smack them. Images of my handprint on her bronze skin filter through my mind, sending a surge of pleasure directly to my cock.
“Down, boy,” I mutter to myself as my eyes travel down her body.
Unable to stay away any longer, I climb out of the truck and step around to the front.
“Hi,” I say, loud enough for her to hear.
The last thing I want to do is scare her. She just got back to town. I don’t want to send her running for the hills again. She spins around, and her eyes widen in surprise when she sees me.
“Hi.” Her breathy voice caresses my skin, pulling me closer to her.
I take a step forward, but she holds up her hand, halting my movements. Her eyes clench shut tightly as if she’s trying to brace herself for my anger, for me to unload years of pain and questions at her feet, but that’s the furthest thing from my mind.
When she doesn’t look up at me, I take a step closer, causing her eyes to snap to mine. My chest tightens at all theemotions swirling in her eyes—pain, regret, sadness, and most importantly, love. Selina still loves me—I can see it in her eyes—but there’s something holding her back, stopping her from making both of our dreams come true.
“Your parents told me you were coming back to town to recuperate from your injury.” I motion toward the small building behind her. “But Connor told me you were here because you bought this place.”
Her eyes widen in surprise at my admission, causing my cheeks to heat in embarrassment. When we were younger, I was always invited to Selina’s house for family dinner. We discussed everything under the sun; no topic was off-limits. Those dinners gave me the family environment I always wanted. My dad took off before I could walk, and my mom worked two jobs to keep a roof over our heads and food on the table. I spent more time at Connor’s and Selina’s than I did at my house.
When Connor and Lydia got engaged, I didn’t want to be a third wheel. I didn’t want to watch the two of them be happy together when the only person I wanted was miles away, so I gave them some space, making up excuses for the reason we couldn’t hang out the same way we did before Selina left.
I assumed I could do the same with Selina’s parents, but her mom wasn’t having it. She demanded that I continue spending every Sunday evening with them. It was weird at first, but the longer Selina was gone, the more I wanted to cling to that part of her. I never asked too many questions, but her mom told me anything she thought was appropriate.
“You still talk to my parents?” she questions, her head cocking slightly to the side as if she’s trying to solve a puzzle.
“Yup. I still have dinner with them every Sunday. Old habits die hard.” I chuckle humorlessly.
“I needed a place to practice,” she replies as she twirls her keys around her finger, a telltale sign of her nerves. “I couldn’t let them close this place.”
“Makes sense.” I pause, awkwardly searching for something else to say. “How have you been?”
Her eyes flick back and forth, looking anywhere but directly at me before she answers, “Fine.”