Light in the Shadows (Find You in the Dark #2)(3)
Author: A. Meredith Walters

I constantly wondered what she was doing, if she was happy, if she had started dating anyone. That thought hurt. A lot. Because I really did want her to live her life, even if that meant moving on from me. But that didn’t mean I had to like it. “No. I don’t think that would do either of us any good,” I admitted, repositioning the picture frame so that I could see it.

Maria frowned. “Why? If you love her so much, don’t you think talking to her would be a good thing?” I gritted my teeth. Explaining anything regarding my relationship with Maggie made me defensive. But I forced myself to calm down; using those breathing techniques the counselors had been drilling into our brains for months.

“Because Maria, the fact that I love her is the reason I can’t go turning her life upside down anymore. I won’t f**k with her like that again. She’s been through enough because of me.” I sounded so pathetic. Maggie’s hold on me was as unyielding as ever.

Maria’s face softened, her eyes getting that dewy look that girls get when a guy says something sweet (Maggie used to get that same look every time I told her I loved her). “She’s lucky to have your love, Clay. I hope she realizes that.”

I swallowed, getting a little uncomfortable talking about this with Maria, particularly with Tyler five feet away. Maria reached out and squeezed my arm, her fingers, I noticed, lingering on my skin. “Just keep doing what you’re doing and maybe one day you’ll feel like you can call her.”

I smiled. Yeah. Maybe…one day.

Chapter Two

-Maggie-

This job was going to kill me. I wrapped a wet paper towel around the scald on my wrist and winced. Hot coffee and Maggie May Young clearly didn’t mix.

Let me rephrase. Hot coffee being carried on a precariously balanced tray and Maggie May Young were bad news. I removed the towel and glared at the huge red splotch on my skin. That would definitely blister.

“What the heck did you do?” a voice asked from behind me. I rolled my eyes at Jake Fitzsimmons, who put down the pastries he was loading into the display case and came over to check out my war wound.

“I was on the wrong end of a Mocha Latte,” I deadpanned, pulling my sleeve down to cover my angry skin. I gave my co-worker and friend a painful grimace. Jake frowned with concern and held out his hand.

“Let me see, Maggie,” he told me firmly. I rolled my eyes again but held my arm out for him to inspect. I looked around the bustling café and knew I needed to get back to work. The place was slammed.

I had been working at Java Madness for two weeks. I had just been taken off of probation three days ago and here I was, nursing a nasty burn and ready to throw my apron on the floor and stomp out. For some reason, I was really struggling with coffee making and waiting tables. You wouldn’t think it would be akin to brain surgery, but I had dropped more trays, broken more mugs and gotten more orders wrong in the last two weeks than seemed acceptable.

The manager, Jacob, looked ready to can me last night when I had a table complain about how I screwed up their sandwich order, not once, but twice. I was trying. Honestly. But as with everything in my life anymore…it was just a struggle. Nothing was easy and normal anymore and it was difficult putting all the pieces together into a picture that made sense.

Jake Fitzsimmons had been working at Java Madness for a year and was trying to help me keep my job. I gave him a wan smile as he ran his fingers over the burn lightly. I tried not to rip my hand away from him, not liking him touching me in any way. But it wasn’t like he was trying to cop a feel. He was just being concerned.

After a few more seconds, I couldn’t help it; I wriggled my arm from his grasp. “I’ll live,” I muttered, turning back to the espresso machine that had already maimed me once. I glared at the shiny, silver contraption. “Play nice,” I directed its way under my breath.

Jake laughed as I started to fiddle with the nobs. He reached from behind me and put two mugs under the spigots and turned it on. “Thanks,” I said; giving him what I hoped was a sincere smile. I would seriously be lost in this place if he didn’t continuously rescue me from coffee related mishaps.

“You’ll get it…eventually,” he teased, turning back to the display case. I waited for the drinks and leaned against the counter. Jake looked up at me, his eyes sparkling in that flirty way of his and I had to look away. Jake was cute and at one time, I had found his boy next-door good looks to be attractive. With his short red hair and pretty blue eyes, what wasn’t there to like? But that was before I had been ruined for any guy that wasn’t the dark headed, tortured lone wolf type.

Jake’s smile immediately made me feel uncomfortable. Jake and I had an easy banter. Always had. Even if he had never been exactly subtle in the fact that he wanted more than friendship. But he hadn’t pushed it since…well…since the incident.

God, I couldn’t even think about it properly in the privacy of my own thoughts. I couldn’t think about him at all, not while I was out in public. Otherwise, I ran the risk of turning into a huge blubbering mess. And I had vowed to myself six weeks ago when I had gotten the letter, that I wouldn’t become that person…ever again.

But I still felt strange being around people. Like they were all looking at me and talking about me and feeling…gah…SYMPATHY for me. And I hated that. Because I didn’t need or deserve their sympathy. But I was the girl who had run off with her mentally unstable boyfriend, only to be brought back to town after his suicide attempt and being subsequently institutionalized. Nothing was a secret in Davidson, so of course everyone knew the sordid details.

And boys…well they were out of the question. Dating, kissing, maybe loving anyone else was so not on my radar. Not when every night when I fell asleep I did so with the picture of his face ever present in my mind.

And Jake. Sweet, good hearted Jake. We were just friends. Would only ever be friends. But I saw the way he looked at me. I wasn’t an idiot. I was just refusing to acknowledge it. Denial seemed to work for me, so I stuck with it.

I put the small, circular tray on the counter and loaded it up with drinks. “Maybe you should come back and get the rest,” Jake suggested, indicating my full tray. His raised eyebrows made me laugh. And that felt good. I laughed so rarely any more that I almost forgot what it felt like when it did happen.

“I think you may be right,” I conceded, taking a few of the drinks off and going around the counter to take them to my table. I delivered everything and did a little jig when I got back to my station by the espresso machine. Jake came up and gave me a high five, grinning at me.

“You did it! That’s four tables in a row without dropping anything! That has to be a record,” Jake joked, squeezing my shoulder. I tried not to shrug off his hand and forced a smile.