“I’m not very good at talking about certain things with anyone. I write down my thoughts to express myself, or sometimes I write fiction where the characters have gone through what I have. But I keep everything private. Even listening to certain songs that resonate helps me get stuff out. I meditate and do yoga sometimes, too. Talking has never been my thing, though.”

“As long as you have an outlet.”

“What’s your outlet?”

“Nothing as respectable as writing and yoga.”

“Sex and cigars?” I suggested.

“I haven’t had a cigar in a week.” He winked.

Jesus. So I guess it’s sex then.

“Maybe I should learn to meditate instead,” he added. “When do you do it?”

“Whenever I can find the time. I use an app on my phone for guided meditation. It helps calm me down when I’m stressed. I also feel like it helps me connect to my subconscious.”

Glancing over at me, he smiled. “You’re way deeper than the little girl who used to chew on her hair.”

I felt my cheeks heat. “I can’t believe you remember that.”

“Some things are kind of hard to forget.”

I sighed. “Life was certainly simpler back then. Glad I got out of that habit, though. If I chewed on my hair when I got stressed now, I wouldn’t have any left.”

“You do a good job of not seeming like you’re stressed all the time. I guess you can hide a lot behind a smile, huh?”

I shrugged. “Fake it ’til you make it.”

He turned to me briefly before his eyes returned to the road. “What’s got you stressed?”

“It’s nothing I can pinpoint. Just the overall uncertainty of the future. I want to make something of myself but have no idea what it is I want to do. I feel like I’m stuck in limbo. I stay in the same mundane secretarial job—getting up every day and doing the same thing—but I feel time ticking away.”

“You’re so young. You’ve got a lot of time.”

“I’m not that young,” I felt compelled to say.

“I know you’re not a kid anymore, but you’re young.”

“I should’ve almost graduated college by now, and I haven’t even started. My mother was married with a baby at my age.”

He grimaced. “You wouldn’t want to be married with a kid right now.”

“No, but I want a purpose, deeper meaning in my life. It’s frustrating that I haven’t found it.”

“There’s no timetable, Farrah. You’ve been through a lot—more than most people your age. And honestly, I’m proud of the way you and Nathan have handled everything. You’ve got a roof over your head, and you look out for each other. You’re doing amazing, even if you don’t always feel like you have your shit together. In the end, we’re all just trying to get through the day, you know? Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

Admiring his gorgeous cheekbones and the way the streetlights reflected on his jet-black hair, I smiled. “I’ll try to look at it that way.”

We finally approached the strip of businesses where The Iguana was located.

Jace slowed the truck. “Is this it?”

“Yup.”

He pulled up in front. The last of the daylight had diminished during the course of our ride, and the blue neon sign atop the bar lit up the night.

“You said you have a ride back?” He placed his hand on my headrest.

Once again, my body was all too aware of his proximity.

“Yeah. Kellianne is meeting me here and driving me home.”

Jace gave me a look. “Does she drink?”

“Don’t worry. She’ll only have one drink if she’s driving.”

“Okay. If anything changes and you need a ride, text me.”

It was tempting to create a situation later that might warrant that scenario.

“I will.”

“Be careful,” he warned.

Not eager to leave his truck, I lingered for a moment. I wanted to stay with him all night, talk more about life, learn more about what made him tick and what types of things he longed for. I wanted to know everything about him, pick him apart layer by layer.

Instead, I forced myself to open the door. Before exiting, I paused and leaned in to give him a quick hug. “Thanks again.”

His body stiffened, yet he wrapped his arm around my back. I savored those few seconds before pulling away. From all appearances, it was an innocent gesture. But on the inside, I was burning up. I didn’t have many opportunities to “thank” him in that way.

Jace waited for me to go in before he drove off.

Once the door closed behind me, I made a beeline for the bar. I hated being the first to arrive. Kellianne was coming straight from work.

After finding a seat at a table that faced the stage, I sat alone and sipped my mojito.

About ten minutes later, I spotted my friend rushing toward me.

I’d met Kellianne at the law firm where I worked as an administrative assistant. She’d since moved on to another job, but we’d stayed in contact. Physically, we were opposites. Kellianne was short with curly blond hair. I was five-foot-seven with long, straight, brown locks.