Second Chance Summer (Chance #1)(2)
Author: Emma Hart

And I stop. It’s no longer Luce’s face smiling up at me. It’s Reese’s, and he’s giving me a piggy back ride. My arms are wrapped around his neck; our cheeks pressed together as we smile like idiots. I grab another photo, and I’m back at graduation. I’m tucked into his side with his arm wrapped around my shoulders. Another photo, this time with his lips against mine, and I’m transported weeks into the future to the stolen moments when we thought no one was looking. When we thought no one knew.

Even though everyone knew. Everyone knew and insisted we were the cutest thing since… Ever. Everyone knew and tried to tell us we were in love, and we laughed it off.

I wish I could laugh off the lump in my throat or the burn in the back of my eyes. I wish I could laugh off the knotting of my stomach and the settling of regret, and I wish I could laugh off every single memory bubbling in my mind.

I wish I could laugh off the knowledge looking at these pictures has given me. The knowledge that last summer was more than a fling, more than a casual string of make out sessions and laughter.

The knowledge that Reese Pembleton and I were very much in love last summer.

I drop the photos into the box like they’re burning my fingers and shove it into the back of my closet. I’ve barely scraped the surface of the images in there, and although I know how long it would have taken Luce to edit and print them all, I can’t look at them.

I’ve spent so long fighting and denying everything about last summer. I’m not willing to have it laid out so obviously in front of me.

~

I sit back on the sofa and sigh. Looking around the room, it’s cleaner than it was before. Then again, I doubt it could be any worse than it was when I got here three hours ago.

I look up at the clock on the wall. It’s almost eight – I’ve missed dinner. I press the heels of my hands into my eyes, exhaling slowly. Dinner… Yeah, right. I don’t expect there to be anything in the fridge but cans of crap I’ll never touch.

I amble into the kitchen and look into the fridge. Apart from a carton of milk, half a loaf of bread, and a packet of bacon, it’s empty. The top shelf of the freezer holds the processed food I’ve avoided for the last year. I guess I’m heading up to the store tomorrow morning for some real food, since my mom is too busy working at the bar then drinking away her wages.

Yeah. Real nice way to welcome your only daughter home, Mom.

I pull out the griddle to cook up some of the bacon and wince. Judging by the thick, solid layer of grease coating it, she didn’t get round to that cleaning that either. Am I surprised? Not really. I weigh it up. Clean, or drive to the store now for food?

Another glance at the grill makes up my mind. Store it is.

I swipe my car keys from the hall side and go back out into the light summer evening. Luckily for me, Patty’s store will be open for another hour.

The drive takes a few minutes, and when I pull up in the parking lot I see Patty laughing behind the counter with old Mr. Jacobs. She blows him a kiss and winks sassily. I smile to myself. Old or young, as long as they’re male, Patty will bestow her flirtatious southern charm on them. Eric, her husband, leaves her to it with a laugh.

The bell jingles, and I step into the small store. Patty glances over to the door, looks away, then looks back again. I give her my best smile, and she squeals loudly, clapping her hands.

“Well if it ain’t little Kia James back from the Big Apple. Sure took ya long enough, sugar,” she scolds with her strong southern twang.

“I know, Patty, I know,” I say apologetically. “I’m back for the summer.”

“Here, Eric! Get yaself out here. Kia’s back for the summer!” Patty calls over her shoulder.

“Well I never.” He wipes his hands on his pants and hugs me gently. “How you doin’?”

“I’m all right, thanks, Eric. What about you? Hows Jocie doin’ in Dallas?”

“Well, Jocie is doin’ just great. Met a lovely man and now they’re expectin’ a little one.” Patty practically bursts out of her skin as she tells me about her grown-up daughter.

“Really?” I touch her hand. “That’s real good news, Patty. I’m so happy for y’all.”

Patty nods. “She’s not due till the spring, but we’re already settin’ up the spare room. You see your Momma since you been back?”

“I only got back a few hours ago and no, I ain’t seen her yet.” I grab some essential foods from the shelves. “I wasn’t expecting to. I’ll be surprised if I see her at all this summer.”

Patty shakes her head. “She gotta sort it out, Kia. It ain’t fair on you, honey. You gotta talk to her.”

I smile sadly and put my food on the counter. “I gave up talking to her about it the day I left for college, Patty. She don’t wanna change, and I can’t make her. He left us six years ago, and she still ain’t over it. It ain’t my problem anymore.”

Eric rubs my arm. “Well, we sure are proud of you. Going off to a big college like that.”

I smile gratefully at him, and his eyes twinkle. “Thanks, Eric. You sure know how to make a girl’s day.” I wink.

I hand Patty the money and grab the bags.

“Come over for dinner one night, Kia. I’ll cook you up my famous chicken with potato salad.” Patty tempts me.

“Mm… Corn too?” I open the door.

“Well, o’ course. What kind of southern woman do you take me for?” She grins.

“It’s a date.” I wink at her and wave, walking back to my car.

I put the groceries on the passenger side seat and start it up. My head drops backward against the headrest of the seat. New York’s skyline flashes through my mind momentarily, and I sigh.

I pull away from the store back toward my house, wondering what time my Mom will make it home.

With any luck, she’ll be back by next week.

CHAPTER 2

Of course,my car would die when I’m at home. And of course the only garage within ten miles is the one that belongs to a guy I’ve known my whole life. And, because it’s how it goes, of course Reese Pembleton just happens to work in that exact garage.

I’m not blind. He’s hot as hell and as dangerous as an arrow to your heart. In fact, he probably is the damn arrow.

He walks toward me as I enter the garage, his eyes fixed on mine. I’ve been back here three days and I’m nowhere near ready to speak to him. Hell, I’m not even ready to see him again – especially after seeing the pictures Luce left me. My guilt and regret hangs heavily on me, mixed with maybes and might-have-beens, and I wish I could just give him my keys without the inevitable small talk.