Page 159 of Always Love You More

“And in the morning, too, so I don’t have to rush home …”

Jace babbles next to her, and she scoops him up into her arms. “Yeah, all right.”

I move around the room, shoving things into my purse. “I’ve gotta get to work,” I tell her.

She stands, sliding Jace onto her hip. “You wanna go in the car,” she coos. “You wanna go bye-bye.”

He claps his hands, and I smile over at him.

“I’ll go get him buckled in,” Cathleen says.

“Thanks,” I answer, searching for my lighter. “Meet you down there.”

The day goes by in a blur, the Saturday rush never slowing.

By seven o’clock, I’m desperate to get off my feet and see Jameson.

I find my purse in the back room and pull my phone from it, my shoulders dropping when I see a text from him saying he’s running late, and then another that he’s sending Billy to come get me.

It’s not that I don’t want to see Billy; it’s just that I’mexhausted. Between the lack of sleep, homework, school, and long hours at the diner, I feel like I’m fucking drowning.

All I want to do is get to Jameson’s house, shower off the smell of fry oil, crawl into his bed, and watch a movie until I fall asleep.

I step out into the night and move to my usual bench in front of the diner. Nights like this make me wish I didn’t have to rely on someone to drive me around. But not enough to actually make me want to get behind the wheel.

I pull my now battered copy ofThe Picture of Dorian Greyfrom my bag and read until I hear the familiar rumble of Billy’s bike.

Grabbing my stuff, I walk over to him, take the black helmet he’s holding out for me, then swing my leg over the seat and settle in behind him. I tighten my arms around his waist as he speeds away from the curb, the wind whipping past us.

It’s not long until we pull up to Jameson’s house. Billy cuts the engine before I slide off the back and hand him my helmet.

“Want me to come in and wait with you till he gets here?”

I shake my head. “I’m fine. Thanks for the ride.”

“You all right?” he asks.

“Just tired.”

He nods, and I know he gets it. “Get some rest, yeah?”

“You, too,” I answer before turning and starting up the lawn.

I let myself inside, and as I close the door behind me, I hear Billy take off.

The house is as dark and lifeless as it always is. Ever since Levi died, it’s like this place is haunted by his memory.

Jameson’s mother still barely leaves her room. I don’t think she knows who she is without Levi. Who she is without being tied to a man.

Moving past her room, I peer inside. The space is dim, only illuminated by the glow of a TV. She’s propped up against the headboard, a red silk robe falling off her shoulder.

“Jameson?” she calls out.

I step into the doorway. “It’s me.”

She smooths down her hair, straightening. “Oh, hi, honey.”

A soap opera plays in the background, the sound filling the space between us.