Page 21 of Old Habits

“No, I’m not. And you shouldn’t be either.”

“Well, I am.”

She blinks her wide, begging eyes. “Will, please, do not go out with her.”

“We’re just catching up, Sara. No one’s exchanging vows.”

“Exactly. You’re not and you never will.”

I flex my jaw. “I’m sorry. Was that an order?”

“It’s a fact.” She shakes her head. “Jovie Ross is going to string you along just like last time. And then, just like last time, you’re going to get too attached to her and then she’s—”

I laugh over her. “What the hell are you talking about? I dumped her, remember?”

“And while she rode off into the sunset, you lived here like a damn shut-in. You didn’t get out of bed for weeks after she ran off because she never called your bluff.”

A pang grips my chest but I power through it. “Well, she’s back now,” I say. “If you ride into the sunset long enough, you end up right back where you started, right?”

She breathes a sad sigh. “That’s not how that works, Will. She doesn’t belong here. Sooner or later, Jovie’s going to pack up and leave again and when she does—”

“Sara, stop.” I hold up a hand. “Like I said, we’re just catching up. I know you always hated her but it’s been four years. Cut her some slack.”

Andy walks in with his backpack and hugs Sara’s knees, forcing the two of us to lower our voices.

“Well…” she combs her fingers through his hair, “I hope you’re right. But I won’t be the least bit surprised to have to say I told you so again.” She pokes Andy’s chin. “Honey, come on. Say goodbye to Uncle Will.”

Andy smiles at me. “Bye, Uncle Will.”

“See you later, buddy,” I say, messing up his hair.

Sara guides him through the house to the front door, all the while fixing his shaggy mane back down where it belongs as they step outside.

I linger in the doorway and wave at Andy as he twists around to give me another floppy goodbye in return. Sara gets him into his seat and glances over her shoulder at me, flashing a hard, disappointing stare in my direction.

I guess I can’t really blame her. I can deny it all I want to her face but Sara’s right when she says I was pretty fucked up for a few months after Jovie left.

But she’s back now.

I close the door and eye the coat closet in the corner beside me, feeling a sudden rush of excitement spike in my blood.

My lips curl to one side. I open the closet and reach up onto the top shelf until I touch something smooth and round.

The helmet carries a thin layer of dust, distorting the lightning blue color, but it’s nothing a quick wipe down with a cloth won’t fix.

I turn it over in my hands, admiring its weight as memories of Jovie riding shotgun come rushing back to me.

All those late-night rides through the town square, revving the Bolt as loudly as possible to try and piss off anyone we could.

And — especially — the quiet nights together when we’d pull off the highway and fool around until some state trooper rode in and told us crazy kids to go home.

And — even better — the nights when the trooper never showed up at all and Jovie made a man out of me.

Christ, Jove.

Where the hell have you been?

I set the helmet down and grab my leather jacket off the back of the door.