Therapy Ever After (Therapy #1.5)
Read Therapy Ever After (Therapy #1.5) Online
Authors: Kathryn Perez
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Therapy Ever After
Copyright © 2016 by Kathryn Perez
Editing by Indie Solutions by Murphy Rae
Cover design by Laura Hildago
All rights reserved.
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products, bands, and/or restaurants referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Table of Contents
Excerpt of Letters Written in White
I’M SITTING IN
my car. I haven’t moved since pulling into my driveway. I’ve just been sitting here trying to fully absorb seeing Jace again, going to his house and then . . . Vivvie. Answering the how and the why of that is impossible. Yet, not having answers doesn’t erase the absolutely amazing aspect of it. My heart is full and broken all at the same time.
Jace Collins is different but exactly the same in many ways. Different in the way he approaches me and talks to me. But the same in every other way. He doesn’t see me as breakable anymore. There’s a new level of respect between us—that’s obvious—yet he’s still Jace. He’s the boy I fell in love with so long ago, the lover who broke my heart, and the one person I’ve never stopped loving no matter how much time has passed.
He wants to see me again. I want to see him again, but I feel a certain level of fear and apprehension. I’m finally on firm ground in my life, and dating has never been stress-free for me. Going to school and moving forward in a positive way is my top priority. It has to be. Jace isn’t part of my plan anymore. Or is he?
“
I KNOW I
should’ve probably waited a few days before calling you so as not to seem desperate, but my desire to talk to you far outweighs me worrying about any pride or egotistical male thought process.”
I laugh. It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours since I left Jace’s house and he’s already calling me. I’m not complaining, though. To be honest, his eagerness is endearing. It’s nice.
“No worries. I’d never think of you as desperate anyway,” I tell him, clicking an ink pen in my hand over and over. I won’t lie to myself. There’s a certain degree of nervous energy running through me right now. This is very new. We aren’t dating by any means. We’ve spent part of one day together after not seeing or talking to each other in a very long time. It’s almost like the feelings of a brand new crush yet much more intensified because of our complicated and involved history.
“I couldn’t sleep last night to save my life. Seeing you again and everything that happened had me wired up. I just needed to call you. Plus I wanted to thank you for agreeing to see me yesterday. I know you were hesitant. I hope you don’t regret it,” he says.
I click, click, click the pen and begin pacing back and forth in my living room.
“I don’t regret it. It was good to see you,” I tell him.
There’s an awkward pause between us before he replies, “Yeah, it was good to see you, too. I want to see you again, Jess. Soon.”
His voice is steady, but I can hear the nervousness in it.
“I don’t know. I mean, I’m so busy with school and everything,” I answer with words that are short and unsure.
“I get it. I’m not asking to make you feel pressured. Maybe just a dinner one evening? I’ll come to you. You do eat dinner, don’t you?” He laughs, trying to lighten the mood.
I stop and lean my forehead against the living room wall and close my eyes. Before I overthink it, I answer him. “Sure. We can do dinner.”
I shift my weight from foot to foot and then roll around so my back is against the wall. I lean my head back and look up at the ceiling. I smile and bite at the inside of my cheek, waiting for him to reply.
“Good answer. What about tonight?”
My eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Tonight?” I say with a slightly high pitch in my voice.
“Yeah, tonight. It’s been a year, Jess. I’m done wasting time. Tonight.” His voice is now more confident and commanding.
“Umm, well.” I pause and try not to panic with it being such last-minute notice. “What time tonight? Where?” I ask hesitantly.
“I’ll pick you up at your place. And let me handle the rest. Okay?”
I sigh into the phone. “Okay, Jace.”
“You won’t regret it. We’ll have a great time. Just fun, Jess. No pressure.”
“You didn’t say what time,” I press.
“Oh yeah, how about seven?”
I glance over at the clock on my wall. That’s seven hours from now. Seven hours. In seven hours he’ll be standing at my door and we’ll be going on an actual dinner date. Me going on a real date with Jace Collins. No matter what he says, this is different from our little lunch and afternoon hangout. It’s a date. There’s pressure. A lot of pressure.
“Seven works,” I say as if I’m cool, calm, and collected about this. I’m so full of shit. I hold in the laugh I want to let out at myself.
“Seven it is. See you then.” The victory in his voice is undeniable.
I smile, shake my head, and tell him, “See you then. Don’t be late.”
“Never.”
THE KNOCK AT
the door immediately makes my heart skip a beat. I look in the mirror one last time and check my hair and make-up. I kept it simple, only wearing a cute top and skinny jeans with black booties. I take a deep breath before going to the door. As soon as I swing it open, I see Jace and his big and broad smile looking back at me. He’s wearing a black V-neck shirt and dark jeans. Handsome as ever.
Pulling a bouquet of fresh flowers from behind his back, he says, “Here, these are for you.”
I reach out and take the flowers from him, leaning into them and inhaling. “They smell incredible.” I flick my eyes up from the flowers to meet his gaze and grin. “Thank you. I love them.”
“You’re welcome,” he says, pushing his hands into his jean pockets.
I motion for him to come inside. “Come on in and I’ll put these in water before we go.”
“Alright,” he answers and follows me into my apartment.
Him being here is strange. The last time we both stood here in this apartment together was when we finally and truly said goodbye to one another. I go to the kitchen and place the bouquet down onto the countertop and open a lower cabinet where I keep a few vases.
“Hey, do you mind if I use your bathroom before we head out?” he asks, pointing toward the hallway where the bathroom is.
“Oh, of course not. Go ahead. I’m just going to snip these and get them in some water. It won’t take me but a few minutes.”
