11. Emily

EMILY

I madeit to Jesse's parents' house almost on autopilot, but once I arrived, I couldn't get out of my car.

I darted my eyes back and forth from their front door to the bakery box of chocolate cream pie on my passenger seat. They would spot me any minute now, and I'd have to explain why I was lingering in front of their house like a stalker.

The day before I'd left for Maine what now felt like a million years ago, I'd gone on a drive to pick up a few last-minute things for my dorm and had ended up here. I hadn't seen any of their cars parked in the driveway or in front, so I'd sat and stared at their house until I'd become disgusted enough with myself to leave.

I didn't know what I would have said if Jesse had been home and found me there, or what my intentions were after driving forty minutes out of my way to simply stare.

This was different. My heartbreak over Jesse had been fresh and raw enough not to care what any of his neighbors would think if they spotted me or if they'd report back to him or his family that I had been there. But the weight of how it felt to be here again still seemed as heavy.

The house looked exactly the same, down to the beds of pastel-colored roses under the large storm window. When I'd come here for the first time, I'd been so nervous, Jesse had told me to stop shaking as we'd walked up that same stone walkway to his front door. I had been barely fifteen and Jesse and I had already been inseparable, but having dinner at his house seemed like a huge step to making us official—as much as two young teenagers could be an official anything together.

My mother hadn't approved of my having a boyfriend at such a young age and had made sure to let us both know it when I'd brought Jesse over to our house. My grandfather had loved him, and both my grandparents had told my mother to calm down. Poor Jesse had endured dirty looks from her for simply existing each time she'd seen him, right up until graduation.

I'd thought that Jesse's parents would react the same way, but this house had become a second home for me from that first day. Mrs. Evans would light up whenever I'd come over, and Tessa would climb all over me. They'd made me feel like family, and I'd hated losing them all when I'd lost Jesse.

Mrs. Evans was still the same warm and wonderful human being, and I'd be welcomed with open arms as always the minute I rang the doorbell.

So, what was stopping me?

While the outside hadn't changed much, the inside wouldn't be the same. Tessa's giggle wouldn't waft down the steps as she ran over to greet me, and Jesse wouldn't pull me down the hallway for a passionate kiss hello when his parents weren't watching.

This house held more than just memories for me. I'd grown up here along with Jesse. Enough time had passed for the images to fade, but the old days ran through my mind so vividly lately. The time I had with Jesse, no matter how long ago it was, had meant a lot to me. No matter how many years had passed, I'd had moments when I might not have actively thought about him for a while, but I could never forget.

I leaned my head against the steering wheel and sucked in a long breath, letting it out slowly to relax and maybe get a damn grip on myself. Before I could tell if it worked, a knock on my window made me jump. I whipped my head around to Jesse's smirk on the other side of the glass.

I dropped my head back, chuckling to myself as I rolled down the window.

"The neighbors may think you're casing the place if you stay in the car any longer," Jesse quipped, a smile teasing the corner of his perfect mouth.

"Good point," I said when I dragged my gaze to his. "I'm sorry," I said, draping my hand over my eyes and peeking at Jesse through a crack in my fingers. "It's just…" My cheeks singed with embarrassment over getting caught without a clue how to explain.

"Weird?" He quirked a brow, peering down at me as he rested his hand on the roof of my car, treating me to the flex of his bicep as he leaned closer. I'd always thought he was the most beautiful boy I'd ever seen, but the man he'd grown into was too much to handle lately, never mind to look at for too long.

"I suppose that's a good word. But I couldn't tell your mom no." I grinned, my stupid heart jumping a couple of beats when his own smile deepened.

"No, you couldn't have. You know Patti Evans when she has an agenda. She wasn't going to let you get away with just saying hello today."

"Your mom was always the best." I drifted my gaze toward the house. "I've missed game-day lasagna." I flicked my eyes back to Jesse.

Along with you, and now I'm not sure if I ever really stopped.

"Especially since my mom only made it on Christmas," I said, glancing back at the house. "It took a while to get used to eating it on just a regular day."

His blinding grin shrank.

"She said she always liked treating you to something after you worked so hard. And as I was at all of your games, I know you earned that lasagna every fucking time."

"Thanks," I said, warmth flooding my chest at the pride in his eyes. Jesse had never missed a game, making his dad take him to all the out-of-town ones until he'd learned to drive. Watching him on the sidelines today, cheering for Maddie with every kick, made me think of a time almost too wonderful and simple to believe it had ever existed.

"All kidding aside," Jesse said, furrowing his brow. "I hope we didn't pressure you. I mean, I know we did." He rested his elbows on the inside of my open window and laughed.

"I couldn't say no to your mom—or Maddie."

"Or…" Jesse said, raising a brow.

"Oh, you were easy," I said, waving my hand.

"I could just go home and heat up one of the casseroles from my fan club." His lips, now inches away from mine as he came even closer, twitched at the corners.

"I'm sure they're piling up. Maybe you should." I lifted a shoulder.

He dropped his chin to his chest, his throaty chuckle running right through me.

"I wanted to be here tonight," I said, my heart thudding in my ears as I prepped myself for my wimpy confession. "For everyone. Including you, so save the casserole for another night."

"I wanted you here too," Jesse said, his eyes holding mine as he opened my car door and extended his hand. "So, come inside."

I stood, my palm tingling as usual when it grazed his. It brought me back to that first jolt when our skin touched on the day we met, when both of us had reached for the same pencil and fallen into a four-year trance.

Core memories were good that way, staying part of your makeup despite the merciful lack of awareness.

Until something made you remember, and then you couldn't stop.

I dropped his hand to close the window and grab the pie, grateful for the opportunity to turn away from him and catch my breath.

"After you," Jesse said, his gravelly whisper stealing back the little air I was able to pull into my lungs.

Since we'd reconnected—or had been forced into each other's path—it had been easier to talk myself out of these odd moments in a text message. When one of us would bring up something simple from the past, like the pizzeria we used to sneak to by school, or how my mother would tell him to stay out of my sight during big games so I wouldn't be distracted, we could laugh without whatever this was simmering between us like it did when we were face-to-face.

When we talked in person, the feelings always got in the way. Whether it was remnants of how we used to be or something more current, it messed with my head all the same.

I'd never admit it to him, but he was right to cut me off completely when we broke up. I wouldn't have been able to handle any kind of connection with him and move on.

All these years later, that was still a problem.

Jesse pressed his hand to the small of my back as he reached in front of me to push open the screen door. My entire body lit up at his proximity.

"Thank you," I muttered and stepped through the door, taking two big strides away from Jesse to shake off whatever had come over us both in the past few minutes and today.

"Emily!"

Mrs. Evans rushed up to me as if she hadn't seen me a little over three hours ago and scooped me up into another hug.

"Thank you for the invite, Mrs. Evans. I was just telling Jesse how much I missed game-day lasagna."

I glanced back at Jesse and the tiny smile ghosting his lips.

"I've missed game-day lasagna too. And now, with a soccer player in the family again, we can have it all the time."

The familiar deep rumble of Mr. Evans's laugh echoed down the staircase. His eyes, dark and kind like his son's, met mine. Other than the full beard, Jesse's father was an older version of his son, and time had been extremely good to both of his parents. His father seemed the same stocky kind of strong.

"Nice to see you again, sweetheart," Mr. Evans said, bringing me in for a gentle hug.

"Thank you. Nice to see you too." I cleared my throat when I noticed my voice squeak.

"I'm sorry I had to work today. Maddie already told me how amazing her first game was."

"You're here!"

I turned to Maddie's little voice. Just like her mother's, her voice seemed too small and soft for her tall body. She slammed into me and squeezed her arms around my waist.

"Easy, Mad," Jesse said, putting his hands on her shoulders. "You just saw Emily. You don't need to clobber her every time."

"Mom says hugs are free, so you should give them out whenever you want." Her smile faded. "Or used to say, I guess."

Jesse clenched his eyes shut as if he'd just been punched.

"Well, I'm a big believer in free hugs too." I cupped her chin as she beamed up at me. I wasn't sure whether to be relieved or want to cry at how easily Maddie had corrected herself that her mother wasn't around anymore to say anything.

"Did you come over a lot when you were Uncle Jesse's friend?"

"I did," I said, trying to ignore Jesse's stare in my periphery. "And your grams makes the best lasagna, but never tell my mother that," I whispered, pressing a finger to my lips.

She giggled, pretending to pull a zipper across her mouth.

I did a quick scope of the living room, noting the updated couches and recliner, but most of it seemed and felt the same. The scent of garlic wafted in from the kitchen and smelled good enough to make my nervous stomach rumble.

"I stopped at that famous bakery everyone talks about on Sunrise Highway and picked up a chocolate cream pie."

"That's very sweet of you. You didn't have to bring anything, but I'd never refuse something from Hey, Batter. You know that chocolate cream pie is my weakness." She tapped my chin with her knuckle. "It's almost ready, so all of you can take a seat in the living room until I call you."

"I'll help you," I said, following Mrs. Evans into the kitchen.

A lump grew in the back of my throat when I glanced behind me and found Maddie lining up her dolls on the living room floor—like Tessa would before she'd pull me down to play with her—and I couldn't swallow it away.

"You don't have to help. I'm sure you're exhausted from all those parents and kids," Mrs. Evans told me over her shoulder as she rinsed out a dish in the sink.

"If I can't handle a scrimmage game, I probably have no business coaching," I said, chuckling as I leaned against the counter.

"Did the kids find out that you're a superstar?"

I laughed at the excitement lighting up her features. Jesse and Mrs. Evans had loved to call me a superstar back then, and it seemed just as ridiculous yet wonderful now.

"Was. Past tense. I didn't do anything with soccer after college."

"Jesse told me," she said as she bent to peek into the oven. "Doesn't matter. I knew you'd go on to do great things, and I was right."

She straightened, regarding me with a warm smile that finally made the dam break.

"I'm sorry. So, so sorry," I sobbed, covering my mouth with my hand as if to will back the tears streaming down my cheeks.

She pulled me into a hug, patting me on the back of my head as I cried on her shoulder.

"I know, honey," she whispered, pushing me back to meet my gaze. "It's…it's a bitch." We shared a chuckle.

"I don't know what's wrong with me," I squeaked out, wiping my cheeks with the back of my hand. "It's just, being here in this house with all of you, and watching Maddie play on the floor like Tessa and I used to…" I dropped my head into my hands and pinched the bridge of my nose as if that would shut off the waterworks.

"It's been a long time since you've been here, so it's all fresh. For me, too. When I spotted you on the field, I couldn't get to you fast enough." She laughed as she plucked out a tissue from the box on her windowsill and handed it to me. "I know Jesse felt the same way when he saw you again."

"We aren't…" I stammered as I dabbed at my eyes. "We're friends now. It's good," I said, nodding with a little too much enthusiasm.

"I'm not sure about that, but I think I've met my quota of interfering for the day." She patted my cheek. "But you can believe me when I say that we are all happy you're here tonight. Including my daughter, who asked about you every single day that summer."

"Did she?" There was the lump again, now too big to swallow away. "I wished I could have come back to see her and all of you, but?—"

"I understood, and Tessa did too, even if she wasn't happy about it. She was pretty mad at her big brother for a long while. If it's any consolation, for months, he never made it through a single day without hearing your name, and I could tell it ate away at him every time."

"A little," I said, a real laugh bubbling out of me when I lifted my head.

"It's almost like Tessa is pushing you both back together." She raised a brow as she sifted through a drawer of silverware.

"I don't know about that, Mrs. Evans." I shook my head. "Granted, it's a lot of coincidence, but?—"

"Maybe it's my old and foolish heart wanting to believe my daughter is still around or that there's a higher power with some kind of plan after all."

She handed me a stack of plates, a watery smile curving her lips.

"Whatever it is, I'm happy to have you back here at my table, with my son, who is trying to hold back how happy he is to have you here, and my granddaughter, who needs someone like you right now," she said, sniffling as she nodded to the dining room. "I'll keep watching the signs and hold on to the hope."

Did I believe a greater power had put me back in Jesse's path because it was fate, or just to screw with me?

I favored the latter.

"Hey, are you okay?"

Jesse grabbed my arm as I set the plates on the table.

"Fine, why?"

"You look…upset," he said, concern pulling at his features.

I clenched my eyes shut and nodded. I'd forgotten my crying jag on his mother's shoulder, and while I'd wiped away the tears, my eyes were probably still red and swollen.

"I'm okay, Jesse. It was just too many memories there for a minute."

His shoulders softened as a relieved smile coasted across his face.

"I know what you mean. When you went into the kitchen with my mother, I kept trying to remember when the last time you were here was. I know it was a lot of years ago, but I don't remember the exact last dinner?—"

"I do," I admitted as I set down the last plate.

Jesse squinted at me. "You do?"

"Well, not the last dinner with your parents. But I remember my last meal here. We decided to have a taco night when your parents and your sister went on vacation and left you here alone because you were working that warehouse job for the summer with Caden. It was about a week before…"

Jesse shut his eyes, nodding as he leaned back against the wall.

"You picked me up after work, and we bought way too much from the grocery store to make tacos for only two people." I huffed out a laugh as I made my way around the table. "My mother actually bought that I was staying at Sabrina's house for the night. That was my last sort of dinner and my first and last breakfast here."

I hated my stupid brain and its airtight clarity when it came to my history with Jesse lately. I couldn't tell you what I'd had for breakfast this morning or dinner last night, but I could recall with complete detail devouring blueberry pancakes in Jesse's bed that next morning, starving since we'd abandoned our crazy dinner the night before to feast on each other instead.

"That was a fun night," Jesse rasped as the corner of his mouth tipped up, taking a quick glance behind him. "The kitchen was a disaster, but we managed to clean it up enough before everyone came home. Other than my mother asking why my sheets smelled like syrup, none of our parents were tipped off."

We laughed at the bittersweet memory. I blamed the fact that I'd—mostly—forgiven him for breaking up with me on losing that shield of anger I'd needed to ground and protect myself.

Even though we'd been young, too young to ever truly plan for a forever or even understand it, it had been good between us. Too good to last, but both heartbreaking and wonderful to remember.

"What's your other job? You said you have to sit on your butt all day and edit."

Jesse and I both straightened at the same time, the usual spell between us broken by his niece's question.

"I'm a book editor. I analyze manuscripts and make sure they have no mistakes before they get published."

Her tiny brows pulled together. "What are manuscripts?"

"That's what they call books when they're still being written."

She pursed her lips. "So it's like when my English teacher grades our essays?"

"Something like that. I make sure all the words and punctuation marks are correct and that the story makes sense. Do you like to read?"

"Sometimes. I love the Baby-Sitters Club books. Mom tried to read Harry Potter to me, but one book took like a month for us to read. I like short books." Her lips pursed as she slid into one of the dining room chairs.

"I like short books too, and The Baby-Sitters Club was always a favorite of mine. But it's awesome when I love a book so much I never want it to end. Then it's cool when there are a lot of pages." I took a seat next to her.

"I guess I could try a longer book if it's good. Could you pick one for me?"

She loved soccer, and now she wanted me to pick a book for her. This girl knew how to get to me almost as much as her uncle did.

"I would love to. Let me think on it."

A smile lit up her face.

"And maybe you could come to our house, and we could read it together."

My stomach sank when I spotted the deep crease on Jesse's forehead. I wanted to say yes, especially since she was so excited, but the tension in his features as he stared across the table stopped me.

"I'm sure Emily has a full schedule with coaching and working," Jesse said before I could figure out how to answer. "You can read the book she picks for you on your own and talk to her about it when you see her."

I was about to protest that it was no trouble, but maybe he'd said no because he didn't want Maddie getting attached to me in case I wasn't around after the season was over. It was probably best for me if I didn't get too invested in them both for that same reason. I didn't want to stop speaking to Jesse, but I didn't know what he could handle in the long-term, and from what I could tell, neither did he.

"Dinner is served," Mrs. Evans sang as she set the lasagna on a hot plate in the middle of the table.

"I'm sorry." I pushed away from the table. "I forgot the silverware."

She put a hand on my shoulder and shook her head. "My son will get it. Stay." She cut a look at Maddie. "You're our guest."

My skin prickled when Jesse placed a fork and knife next to my plate, grazing my arm as he moved away. Even if some of my crazy feelings for Jesse were reciprocated, that didn't mean he wanted me around on a permanent basis.

I got it and didn't fault him for it, but it stung all the same.

"Did you know that Emily was a professional soccer player?" Mr. Evans asked Maddie as he set a brick of lasagna on Maddie's plate.

"Not really." I shook my head at Mr. Evans. "Just high school and college?—"

"Yes, I saw a video of her playing," Maddie said, grabbing her fork and cutting into her dinner.

"You did?" I muttered a thank-you to Mrs. Evans when she slid a piece onto my plate, and I peered down at Maddie, too into her dinner to look up.

"Yep," she mumbled, slurping up the strings of mozzarella on her lips. "Mikayla showed me on her tablet before the game. It's on YouTube."

"It is? Wow," I breathed out and fell back against my seat. "I guess I think of YouTube as after my time." I laughed, grateful for the change in subject.

"And she was amazing, right?" Mrs. Evans said. "I'd love to see that video."

"Honestly, so would I," I scoffed. "Do you remember where on YouTube?"

She crinkled her nose. "I don't know where she found it. It was a champion game. Mikayla said you can tell because of the flags on the field."

"She means championship," Jesse clarified, one side of his mouth tipping up in a smirk. "Because of course it was."

I rolled my eyes.

"It didn't look like you at first. Your hair was blond."

"Ah," I said, realizing what game it was now from the flags and my one year of blond hair. "That was a division championship game against UNH during my junior year of college."

"You were so fast! Even at the end when your kick was in slow motion. So cool," Maddie gushed, the words garbled around her full mouth of lasagna.

"Chew," Jesse said. "It's easier to taste it that way. And I told you Coach Emily was fast." He flashed me a relaxed smile, and I exhaled a small breath of relief that maybe he wasn't upset with me for overstepping.

I'd joked with Jesse about his fan club at soccer, but how could you not swoon over a man so dedicated to his little girl and protecting her from anyone who could hurt her, intentional or not?

It was impossible.

For a man always so worried about making mistakes as a parent, he was one of the best fathers I'd ever seen. He'd never fail Maddie or Tessa. His sister had known what she was doing when she'd insisted he be the one to take care of her daughter when she was gone.

"I'll walk you to your car," Jesse said later, following me out the front door after I thanked his parents once we'd finished dessert and promised I'd be back. I thought it was an okay possible white lie if another game-day lasagna would make Jesse uncomfortable.

"It's not necessary. You can watch me from the window as I walk the five feet to my car if you're worried."

"I know, but it's not the same. And I wanted to talk to you. About the book," he said, cringing as he pinched the back of his neck when we reached the curb.

"It's okay. I'm sorry I got carried away."

"You didn't. I'm sorry if I sounded harsh. It's just that…" He rubbed his eyes. "She already likes you so much. I'm not saying I'd ever want to lose touch with you again, but if you get busy or meet someone?—"

"I completely understand, so no need to explain." I held up my hand. "You're being a good dad. You're pretty great at this parenting thing, even if you don't know it yet."

He laughed, tilting his head. "I don't know about that. Fuck knows I'm trying."

"You're doing more than trying." I squeezed his shoulder. "Would it be okay if I still picked a book for her? She already seems to love soccer, so if I could make her a reader…" I said, drawing a laugh from Jesse when I pressed a dramatic hand to my chest.

"Sure. And speaking of soccer," he said, reaching into his pocket. "Look what I found."

He handed me his phone with YouTube open on the screen. I pressed the arrow for play, and sure enough, I spied my long then-blond ponytail whipping behind me as I tore across the field.

"My God. My legs hurt just looking at this," I said with a chuckle. "I thought high school training was a bitch." I chuckled. "My coach almost killed me in college. A big reason why I decided to stop there."

Jesse watched over my shoulder as the video slowed, the ball soaring through the air like a scene in a movie before it hit the back of the net. Whoever had shot the video had added music over the actual sounds of the game, but I could almost hear the beautiful swoosh when the ball landed right in the sweet spot.

"Damn, I was good." I laughed. I couldn't make out Jesse's expression on the dark street, but I still felt the heat as his eyes burned into mine.

"You were incredible. Still are," he whispered as he stuffed his phone back into his pocket.

"I may not be as lean as I was back then, but I like my curves. My workout routines don't make me almost vomit anymore, and I can enjoy lasagna and pie without regret."

"You're perfect," he said, his voice so low it was almost inaudible.

"Thank you. For that and—" I glanced back at the house, laughing to myself when I caught Jesse's mother staring at us, then closing the curtain when I made eye contact "—for tonight. Your family is amazing."

I fidgeted with my car keys as I looked everywhere but at Jesse.

"And I guess you're all right too," I added, finally lifting my eyes to his. "Don't expect any casseroles from me, though."

I laughed with him until he grazed his knuckles over my jaw.

"Thanks," he whispered in my ear and kissed my cheek, lingering long enough to feel every centimeter of his lips on my skin. I prayed the goose bumps trailing down my neck weren't obvious in the dark.

"Goodnight," I croaked out, both wanting to run away and fall into Jesse's arms. I was too close to get away with either.

"By the way," I said as I climbed into the seat. "How did you find that video so fast?"

"I googled your name."

"Ah. I googled yours too a few times and may have done a Facebook search a time or two."

"This was the first time I've looked you up."

"Seriously? So you didn't check up on me. Even once. Wow, what kind of ex-boyfriend are you?" I joked.

"No, I didn't." Jesse didn't laugh with me. "But not for the reasons you're probably thinking."

"Jesse, it's fine. I'm not trying to make you feel badly because you didn't think to do it."

"Oh, I thought about it," he said with a chuckle. "I wanted amazing things for you and for you to be happy. But actually looking you up and seeing it? I wasn't sure I could handle that. I wanted to be right by your side, experiencing it all with you, even though it wasn't possible." He tapped his pocket. "Seeing this makes me mad I wasn't there in the stands that day, screaming so loud I wouldn't have had a voice after. Not just watching someone's video of it. The jealousy burns even now."

The night air grew thick between us before he shifted away from me.

"Text me when you get home. Thank you again for being here tonight."

I nodded, leaning away when Jesse shut my car door. I felt his eyes on me as I started the engine, and I gave him a wave before I drove off.

It didn't matter how long ago it was. It all still burned.