Always In: The Shore Series Book 2

Always In: The Shore Series Book 2 by M.R. Joseph Read Free Book Online

Book: Always In: The Shore Series Book 2 by M.R. Joseph Read Free Book Online
Authors: M.R. Joseph
Tags: General Fiction
sitting across from me, it's hard. You think of me as a friend and it went much, much deeper than that. But um...I think I'll be okay ’cause I know you'll be okay. You still seeing Dr. Goldberg?"
    I’m surprised he knows about Dr. Goldberg. Then I remember that Dr. Goldberg came a few times to visit me in hospital when I was in the coma and Cruz was there.
    "Oh, I forgot you met Dr. Goldberg. Yes, I do see him a few days a week. Therapy is helping, like it did before."
    He claps his hands together on top of the table, and I can see his knee bouncing up and down from under it.
    "That's...that's good, Tur...I mean, Harlow."
    I smile at him remembering that in the letters he called me his nickname for me, Turnip.
    I hadn't remembered that. The letters reminded me, but didn't spark any sort of recognition. Frustrated, I change the subject quickly.
    "I’m going back to work this week." He looks surprised.
    "You sure you're ready for that? I don't mean any disrespect by asking."
    I shrug. "I don't take offense. I need to move onward and upward. I love teaching and I can't just sit in my house every day and do nothing. I go to physical therapy three days a week and see Dr. Goldberg, but I need more. I need to go out, I need to teach, and I need to meet new people."
    Cruz bites his lip and crosses his arms in front of him.
    "You are a great teacher so you'll be fine with that. And meet new people…as in…guys?" I have to laugh. Meeting guys is the furthest thing from my mind.
    "No, not guys. I have to work on me first, and I really don't think we should talk about that anyway."
    "I’m sorry, Harlow. I didn't mean that, but that's the first thing that came to my mind." He leans in a bit more toward the table, uncrossing his arms, releasing his defensive posture. "You need to know that when I wrote those letters it was because before the accident, you were my everything. The thought of someone else...I can't...right now I...I’m sorry I just couldn't deal with that. I’m sorry if that question about guys came out wrong, and I’m…I’m sorry I just said all that. I know it doesn't make a difference."
    I feel bad and this is not going as well as I hoped it would. It's getting too personal. I need to tell him that we are friends and I want to keep it that way.
    "Cruz, it's fine. I understand. Listen, I have an idea what we shared just from the letters and what people chose to tell me, but I have to move on and so do you. We will see each other in the summers and I really want you to come to Princeton and hang out when you can, if you can. If you're okay with it. I want you to be okay, Cruz. I want you to be happy and live your life with me in it as your friend."
    He looks so uncomfortable.
    “Did you read my letter I wrote to you after I woke up?"
    He shakes his head no.
    "Why not?" I ask.
    Once again he looks toward the street and says, "’Cause I already knew what it was going to say, so why torture myself any more."
    Shit.
    He stands up, my neck wrenches up to look at him, his large frame blocking the sun from my eyes.
    "I'll be fine, Harlow. I'll be okay." He steps to my side of the table and reaches down with one hand to cup the side of my face. I welcome it because it doesn't scare me.
    "You know, when I told you how I felt about you the first time, when I ran to Jax to see you? I know you don't remember and that's okay." He touches my hair, running a strand between his fingers. His touch is soft, tender.
    "But I wasn't sure how you felt about me, and I was scared. But for the first time in my life I knew exactly what I wanted. I wanted you, either way. Friend or lover and I told you that if you didn't feel the same about me, I'd rather have you in my life as a friend than not have you in my life at all. I meant it. I still do." He let's go of my hair and I hoist myself up from my seat. He grabs my arm when he sees me struggling. A look of worry washes over his face.
    Tears come down my face, because as he stands here,

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