“Be good, King!” Juno yells, waving and coming back to me. She puts her arms around my neck. “Ready to take me back to your house?”
“I didn’t even give you a pickup line.”
“Eh. Those are overrated. I am the angel God sent down to Earth. You don’t need to walk by again because it was love at first sight, and I think I have a Band-Aid in my purse for that scrape on your knee from falling for me.” She kisses my lips. “See, I took care of it, so now I can crash at your place, Microsoft.” She winks.
I laugh, stand, and grab the box of her stuff, which I carry out the back door.
On the way home, the guilt over what Kingston said grows, making me feel sick to my stomach, and I clench her hand. “Juno?”
“Yeah.” She looks up from her phone.
“How long did you know you had feelings for me?”
She tucks her cell phone inside her purse. “I think they were always there… just… you know how messed up I can be about the future.”
I nod. She didn’t decide where she was going to college until April. She hates to make any future commitments, and the fact Kingston is aware of it says she’s been like that for a long time. Maybe even before her parents’ death, but for some reason, I associate the two as intertwined. We were too young when her parents died to know for certain.
“But the good thing is I did.” She leans over and kisses my cheek.
“It wasn’t only because I was about to marry Brigette though, right?”
She turns down the radio and faces me so her back is pressed to the window. “What’s going on?”
I should’ve figured she’d read me. It’s the number one problem of knowing each other as long as we have. We’ve witnessed the other in too many circumstances. It’s like being a married couple without the sex.
“When I agreed to marry Brigette, I was upset. You had just told me about Trey, and I was pissed off that you’d slept with him and not me. I may have agreed to marry her out of spite.” There. It’s all out there. She can get mad if she chooses, but I would have never been able to continue without her knowing the truth. That I’m not the selfless guy she thinks I am.
“I figured. I don’t like it, but I’m glad to be where we are now. I hate myself for doing that, hurting you so much for so long.”
I stop at a light and now I can finally look at her. She’s really not mad. At least she doesn’t have that scowl I associate with her being pissed off. “You’re okay with that?”
She shrugs. “I see it as the past. After you told me, I connected all the dots. I was so scared of losing you, it took me actually losing you to make me act. As sad as that is.”
The light turns green and I press on the gas to get us home. “Thanks for understanding. I’m sorry if you felt I tricked you in some way. I would never want our relationship to start like that.”
She squeezes my hand. “Colton Stone, I’ve known you long enough to know you don’t do mean-spirited things.”
I nod and pull into my driveway. “Have you thought about moving some stuff in?”
She opens up the door. “Not yet. It’s only been a week. Slow the train a little.” She laughs, getting down, and disappears into my house.
Her phone dings and I pick it up from the center console. It’s an email alert and her screen lights up, popping up the thread. I glance at the garage door into the house and click on the message from her landlord. He states that he cannot give her any more time. The rent is due by this Friday; otherwise he’ll be closing her office Saturday.
My head falls back to the headrest and I close my eyes. How did I not see she was in trouble before now?
I turn off her phone and pull out mine, messaging Mario to find out the stipulations of my loan and do I have to use it for Four Paws.
Twenty-Six
Juno
Friday morning, I knock on Grandma Dori’s apartment door in Northern Lights Assisted Living and wait for her to answer. Going to her is really a Hail Mary. I hate asking her for money.
“Juno,” she says when she opens the door, her bluish-tinted hair in curlers. “Come in.”
I walk in to see a hairdresser from Clip and Dish cleaning up some things in Grandma’s kitchen sink.
“Since when do you not go to the salon?” I ask, and the hairdresser smiles at me.
“Mila didn’t mind coming here this time. Something is up with my knee.” She sits down on the couch, massaging it.
My entire life, I’ve never seen Grandma even sick. The woman is unstoppable. “Are you okay?”
She waves off my concern. “Stop it. Why are you here?”
I know Grandma Dori has some money, but I cannot just take her money to save a company I’m not sure I love anymore. I change my mind—I won’t even ask. “Just wanted to say hi.”
“Hmm… what’s the real reason?” I glance back at Mila at the kitchen sink, and Grandma follows my movements. “Mila, you should go to the cafeteria and get some of the custard they have today. If anyone gives you trouble, you tell them you’re my girl.”
Mila either takes the hint or she loves custard because Grandma’s door shuts a minute later.
“What’s really going on, sweetie?” Grandma asks me, and I release a breath.
“Do you think Aunt Etta is real?”
“You mean did your mother make her up?”
I nod.
“Why would your mom do that?”
“Because I was an eleven-year-old who felt like I didn’t belong. Because my siblings were making fun of me, as were the kids at school. Hank Billings told me they bought me at a pawn shop on one of Mom’s trips.”
“The Billings are assholes, you know that.”
I nod. “I’m just not sure I’m really matchmaker material.”
Her eyes narrow. “Why on Earth would you think that? You’ve never once doubted yourself. Why now? Especially when your own love life is going so well.”
I smile, thinking about Colton. I should never have waited as long as I did to face how I feel about him. Although the fear that I’m going to lose him still lives just beneath that layer of love, I’ve done a really good job of pushing it as far down as I can. “I don’t know. I’m just wondering.”
“First of all, that’s your mom’s family, so I only really know what your mom told you and whatever you dug up.”
“Etta could be some random picture that means nothing, and I’ve clung to this belief my entire life for what? To feel like I somehow belong to my siblings even if I don’t look like them?”
“Look like them? Have you seen Holly?”
Has she really gotten so old she doesn’t remember who is actually her actual grandchild?
“Holly isn’t blood,” I say.
Grandma waves me off like she does when she knows someone else is right, but she’s older and wiser and we should just believe her. “The only ones who actually look alike are Phoenix and Sedona and Rome and Denver. The rest of you all—”
“Brooklyn and Savannah are both blonde.”
“Well, what about Austin? He doesn’t look like anyone.”