Page 57 of Old Habits
Chapter 16
Jovie
Old habits are tough to break.
Believe me, I’ve tried. I’ve spent years trying to become a better person, learning new skills, and rewriting bad behavior because my life depended on it. But here, back in Clover, where the winds of change literally turn around and blow in the opposite direction at the border, old habits, good or bad, are the way of life.
Nothing changes in Clover.
Might as well embrace it.
If the town looks at me and sees old Jovie Ross then there’s not much I can do to change their minds. I don’t care to try in the first place. The only person whose opinion matters to me is standing in front of me right now and he’s willing to give me a second chance. I can’t screw that up.
“I’m sorry about before,” I tell him. “Had to make it look convincing.”
Will nods. “Oh, it was.”
“I meant what I said, though. I didn’t leave because I was mad at you or because I wanted to get back at you. I left because it’s what I felt was right for me at the time. I really am sorry. I should have…” I sigh. “I should have done a lot of things differently, let’s just put it that way.”
“Well…” He gives a hard stare from my head to my toes. “You’re breathing, and healthy, and I don’t see any horrible scars anywhere, so I can assume what you thought was best for you wasn’t all that bad, so… I’m willing to let it go.”
“Thank you.”
“As long as…” he tilts his head, “you kiss me right now.”
I gasp. “That’s blackmail.”
“I think it’s technically extortion.”
“What’s the difference?”
“I don’t know. I fix cars. I’m not a lawyer. Kiss me.”
I lean forward, inching slowly toward his lips before veering off to lay a soft peck on his cheek. His aftershave fills my nose, sending tingles through my system as his face twists into a smirk.
He sighs. “I should have been more specific.”
“Should have gone to law school, then,” I quip. “So, did any of our date night options include us ending up back at your place for pizza and beer?”
“I think they all did,” he chuckles.
“Good.” I bend over to unzip my boots. “Mind if I slip these off? Trekking through two dozen lawns kind of killed my ankles.”
“Go ahead,” he says, stepping back to the doorway. “Pepperoni and mushroom, right?”
My mouth waters. “Good memory.”
He fishes his phone out of his pocket as he enters the hallway. I step out of my boots and set them aside, hearing the faint sound of his voice as he orders us food.
I move to follow him but a familiar image catches my eye above his desk in the corner.
A photo hangs from a corkboard. It’s me and Will, lying together beneath my old, white bedsheets. He’s kissing my cheek and I’m smiling at the camera without a care in the world.
A long tear travels from the top edge all the way down the center to the bottom, slicing us in two. It’s been fused back together with several pieces of clear tape, carefully realigned but a black line still remains between us.
I reach out and put it free from its pin. We look so young. So bold yet naïve. We must have been seventeen. Maybe eighteen. Our lives were just beginning.
“Well, that was quick.”