Chapter 12 Jesse

I t could have gone worse. I mean, it could have gone better, but I was willing to take the W in the fact she looked at me like I was the same guy she knew before. There were no pity-eyes. She also didn't yell, and I made her laugh, so two more points for the winning side.

I was going to have to work harder to remind her that she actually did like me.

At least she did at one time.

I didn't even know what my goal was. That morning, I'd just wanted to satisfy my curiosity in seeing her again, but this little venture into being around someone who really knew me and didn't give half a shit about baseball had me craving more.

Sam had always been the person who said whatever popped into her head, whether it was ridiculous or harsh or out of left field, but she hadn't said one word about the last time we'd seen each other, at least not intentionally. She certainly seemed even more shocked than me when she let that question slip about needing to know what I pictured.

I had paced the night before after I talked to Lauren. Literally paced back and forth, ignoring that my knee was swollen from doing a workout that was absolutely not PT approved, and thought about what I'd say or how I'd ask why she completely shut me out. It had not occurred to me that she'd ignore it and act like we were just old acquaintances meeting to talk about a website. The whole thing threw me, but not in a bad way.

Maybe she was trying to start us with a clean slate.

Lauren was a master at laying the guilt trip that we needed to bury the hatchet and get along for her sake, and if I knew Sam, she'd do almost anything for my sister.

Okay, then. I'd try the whole new leaf thing, too. I wouldn't be "Jesse, the former baseball player." I'd just be "Jesse, a guy she knew growing up," and we were reconnecting to help each other with a work thing. That was a perfectly reasonable way to go about all of it, and maybe Sam had just put all the other shit in the past where it belonged. Easy.

Except for the part where she turned to stone when you touched her .

I hadn't yet decided if that response was a tally under winning or losing. It didn't feel like she was angry or horrified that I'd touched her... but it was a strong reaction. I decided just to let things play out and see if there was even a reason to find out what it meant before I let it take up too much brain space.

I pulled into the lot of the townhouses one of my clients was building for a major development project. I took a deep breath and resolved to stick with my first instinct, which was to take the win, even if it was messy. Grabbing the saw blades and caulk and the buckets of primer, I made my way to the trailer to see the foreman. The thoughts about how hard it was not to smile when she gave a genuine laugh or how stupidly sexy she was in that shirt would have to wait. Tools. Just deliver the tools.