Stacey Joy Netzel Boxed Set (7 page)

A finger to her lips cut her off again. As
he led her to a bench nearby and sat her down, she let her gaze
travel over his body and that’s when she noticed his clothes—a
black T-shirt, a very worn pair of faded jeans, and Nikes that’d
seen better days.

He’d never looked better. Strange though,
the different clothes—

“Melanie, there’s something you need to
know.”

His serious statement brought her gaze back
to his. Before he could say something that would make her chicken
out, she leaned close to rest her palms against his firm chest. As
long as she was able to, she’d never tire of touching him.

“It’s okay, I know already. I heard you
yesterday, and I love you, too.”

He went still except for the hammering of
his heart beneath her fingers. Then that slow, sexy smile of his
spread across his face. “Yeah?”

She answered with a deep, sensual kiss that
should leave no doubt as to her feelings. Still, when she pulled
away, she gave him a grin and said, “Yeah.” She reached a hand to
run her fingers through his hair, absently marveling at the short,
fashionable cut.

“Well, in that case, you’ll have to get used
to calling me Drew.”

She frowned with a bewildered smile, but
before she could ask why, a voice called her name behind them.

“Melanie?”

They both turned around to see John walking
toward them.

“Hi, John,” she called back as she
waved.

She couldn’t wait to introduce them, and
Andrew was right, using his full name would be a little
conspicuous—especially with John. Maybe someday, after the book,
she’d be able to tell him who Andrew really was.

John’s gaze shifted to Andrew as he
approached, then he turned to Melanie with a wide smile. “I see
you’ve met my son, Drew.”

Melanie’s gaze swung to Andrew’s.
Drew’s
. The clothes...the hair...

Oh my God
.

“But...it’s
you,
” she whispered.

“Yes.”

“And him?”

“You mean me?” He smiled. “Yes.”

She swept her gaze over Drew, then eyed John
with suspicion. “Did you know about this?”

His welcoming smile faded to a confused
frown. “About what?”

Back to Drew. Her heart was completely on
board, but her mind was having trouble catching up. Before she
could voice the next question on her tongue, he was already
mid-shrug.

“I don’t know how, Melanie. All I know is I
remember both lives. Somehow, I’ve
lived
both lives.”

She relaxed a bit after hearing him say what
she’d been trying to grasp. If he said it, that meant she wasn’t
going crazy. His smile wavered, vulnerable and hopeful at the same
time as he dipped his chin and lifted his eyebrows.

“Can you handle that?”

After a quick glance toward an obviously
perplexed John, she focused back on Drew and lowered her voice.
“Did I
really
hear what you said yesterday, or was that just
wishful thinking on my part?”

“I may have the memories of two souls, but I
know
you
, and yes...I love you, Melanie.”

The words sounded even better out loud in
his emotion-rough voice. Grinning so wide her cheeks hurt, she slid
her hands over his shoulders and linked her fingers behind his
head. “Then I can handle whatever you’ve got for me, Drew.”

A grin flashed before he caught her mouth in
a hot, heady kiss that sealed their pledge and promised so much
more. She pulled him closer, reveling in the warmth of his solid
embrace. Just before passion took over, John cleared his throat and
dragged them back to reality.

“Would someone please tell me what the heck
is going on? I thought you two just met.”

Melanie felt Drew’s smile and eased back
with a soft laugh. “Probably better if you explain.”

“Think he’ll believe it?”

“Yeah...I think he might.” She laid her palm
against his cheek, gazing into his shining gray eyes, happier than
she’d ever imagined possible. “But in the end, it really only
matters if
we
do.”

Ditched Again

(back to top)

Summer Clark:
Yes, I’m excited for my
ten year class reunion—I flew all the way from Florida to Wisconsin
so I could rub my success in Josh Nelson’s face. I know it sounds
vindictive, but the jerk ditched me at the Snowball dance, left me
to find my own ride home, and never apologized. He’s got it
coming…if I can get a tow truck to come out in this freak May
snowstorm and pull my rental car out of the ditch.

Josh Nelson:
No, I’m not looking
forward to the reunion. Just hearing the name Summer Clark brings
back memories of a night I buried long ago and never talked about
again. Seeing her means skirting the truth while trying to deliver
a way-too-late apology. No, with this storm, I think I’ll head
home…as soon as I help this car sunk in the ditch.

Clearly, there are two sides to every
story.

Dedication:

Jena, thanks for your friendship and
input...

now and back in high school!

Additional thanks goes to authors Barbara
Raffin and Carol Ericson.

SUMMER CLARK

I drove down the two lane state highway
toward my hometown of Silver Falls with a ball of nerves tangled in
my stomach. Some were excited nerves because I was returning home
for my ten year class reunion. Others were just nerves because as
was typical in Wisconsin, Old Man Winter was paying one last visit
on this fifth day of May and the road was covered in four inches of
snow.

My fingers white-knuckled the wheel as the
wet, slushy mess shoved and pulled my small rental back and forth,
juggling me and the car between the invisible center line and the
mushy gravel shoulder that had already tried to suck us into the
ditch twice. I’d forgotten what it felt like to drive in this crap,
but thankfully I only had about fifteen more miles to Northeast
Wisconsin’s version of civilization.

Despite the unexpected weather, I was really
looking forward to this weekend. Being back in the Dairy Land of
rolling hills and plowed fields (though I couldn’t see them
now
), I realized I’d missed my home state, snow and all. I’d
had no reason to return. See, once I’d finished college, I found
myself an amazing job in southern Florida, and my parents decided
to enjoy early retirement in…you guessed it—Florida.

Don’t get me wrong. I liked having them
there. They’re great dog-sitters and it’s really nice not to have
to spend a fortune travelling for the holidays, but it was a bit of
a shock when they came for that first visit—and stayed. These days,
my dog, Jenga, and I enjoyed an acceptable half an hour buffer
between their condo and mine and Mom finally realized it’s not
polite—or smart—to drop in for an unannounced visit. Then again,
since my last relationship ended six months ago, that hasn’t been
much of an issue.

I saw the sign for Silver Falls and the
nervous excitement did another little dance in my belly. I couldn’t
wait to see how the town had changed. I couldn’t wait to see my
cousin and classmate, Jenna. But mostly, vain though it sounded, I
couldn’t wait to show Silver Falls how this shy wallflower had
blossomed into a confident woman who now ran her own successful
business.

And by Silver Falls, I meant Josh
Nelsen.

My grip tightened even more on the steering
wheel, and I forced a deep breath, willing my hands to relax. It
was stupid to let what had happened in high school still bother me.
Actually, I thought I’d forgotten it, or at the very least, put it
behind me years ago.

Until the reunion invitation arrived.

Faced with the possibility of seeing Josh
again, the old hurt and humiliation surged forward. Standing in my
sunlit kitchen the day after New Years, I was transported back to
not only my worst date ever, but my one and only date in high
school.

I’d had a crush on Josh Nelsen for three
years, ever since we were freshman and he showed up in my English
Lit. class. It was two weeks until the Snowball Winter Formal, and
Josh had been elected to the Court as the representative for the
junior class. Now he had to pick a date, our class’s female
representative, and she had to be a junior, too.

Oh, I dreamt about going to dances as most
girls do in high school, but I’d already had two and a half years
of staying home to prepare for my reality. Not quite pretty enough
for the popular clique and not someone who excelled at anything in
particular, I was easygoing on the outside and painfully shy on the
inside.

I had a few close friends, girls and boys
alike. I got along with most of the people in my class, as well as
classmates in the grade above and below me, but I’d never been
asked on a date. Of course, the one guy I really wanted to ask me
to do anything, Josh, was dating a senior and had been for a year.
Josh and Lyssa had a rocky relationship, punctuated by hallway
break-ups and equally public make-ups that involved lots of
tongue.

About the time Josh was elected junior
representative, he and Lyssa were in the off-again stage. That’s
when rumors began to circulate that Josh was going to ask me to be
his date to the Snowball. Me,
Summer Clark
, the junior
Snowball representative.
Me, on a date with Josh!
I was so
nervous, and yet more excited than when I’d gone to Space Camp for
a week in the seventh grade.

Miracle of miracles, he did ask. I even
managed to accept without sounding like a total, breathless idiot.
I hoped. We’d maintained a very casual friendship prior to him
asking me out. Josh was one of those people I got along with while
still managing to hide my feelings. Casual “hi” in the hall; smile
across the classroom; “see you tomorrow” if we happened to pass
each other at the end of the day. Much to my relief our status
continued as normal because it was bad enough I kept fantasizing
about the end of the date, I didn’t need added social stimulation
in the weeks leading up to it.

It snowed the night of the dance, too. I
wore a beautiful, emerald green floor-length dress to complement my
long dark hair. Josh showed up looking great in a black tux and
crisp white shirt, his brown hair gelled back in the current
style.

“Wow,” he said when I opened the door. “You
look great, Summer.”

“Thanks.” I ducked my head and smiled, full
of shyness and hope. “So do you.”

He slipped a pink corsage on my wrist and
took me to dinner before the dance. It was almost perfect, except
for the shrimp that fell off my fork and rolled along my dress to
the floor. My cheeks flamed with embarrassment, but as I wiped at
the barely discernable stain, he laughed and told me not to worry
about it. I tried not to.

Once inside the transformed, glittering
school gymnasium, Josh and I danced, he got me punch before the
seniors spiked the bowl, and then escorted me through the formal
court processional while I prayed I wouldn’t trip. I felt like a
princess during the yearbook pictures that followed. The night was
a dream come true. I even managed to set aside my anxious
anticipation of a possible goodnight kiss while I giggled on the
side of the dance floor with Jenna and my other friends. Josh
smiled at me from across the gym and I couldn’t help but think of
the kiss again.

And then Lyssa showed up.

Blond curls piled high on her head, legs
that wouldn’t quit in her sexy dress cut up to there, and do-me
heels. Yes, even in high school I recognized a pair of shoes like
that. So, if I did, it stood to reason, so did Josh.

He headed straight over to the punch bowl
and downed not one, but two glasses. Next time I saw him, he and
Lyssa were on their way out the doors, into the hall. I gave it
about five minutes and then poked my head out. I had a right to
check on my date, didn’t I?

I promptly wished I hadn’t. Down the hall,
in the shadows, Josh and Lyssa were locked in each other’s arms in
a replay of one of their many reconciliation scenes.

And that’s the last I saw of him that night.
Not because I left, but because he did. He left me all alone at the
dance with no explanation, no goodbye, no ride home, and no kiss.
Jenna and her boyfriend Doug took me home, and from that day
forward the casual friendship Josh and I had shared before the
dance was gone forever. He and Lyssa were back together and I
couldn’t even look at him in the hall.

After a couple months they broke up for
good. My humiliation of being ditched faded with the beginning of
senior year, and like I said, I graduated and I forgot. I dated in
college. Even got engaged for a few months last year. But none of
my relationships worked out because I always ended things before
they went too far. In the case of my engagement, the wedding
would’ve been
way
too far.