Meet Me Halfway (Learning to Love Series)

Grocery shopping was the devil’s favorite activity. It was like my own personal hell cloaked in elevator music and cereal boxes. If somebody told me they enjoyed it, I would instantly assume, with no hesitation, they were secretly a serial killer.

I hated it with a passion, and that hatred only escalated when I moved out on my own and had to apply for assistance. Because it didn’t matter how well I dressed or how sweet I was, the second I pulled out my EBT card, people’s mannerisms changed.

It was degrading and frustrating. Purchase a frozen meal because it costs less than five dollars? I’m a lazy parent. Apply for assistance to afford ingredients for a homemade meal? I’m abusing the system. I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t.

So, suffice to say, by the time Jamie and I loaded up the Jeep and left the store, I was close to losing my shit. Turning up his music—which was an orchestra playing some video game theme song—I focused on the lingering echo of ignorant looks and comments. I allowed myself a full sixty seconds to stress, over-analyze, and second-guess myself, then I shoved it the fuck out of my head.

Pulling up to the house, I glanced in the rearview mirror, planning to ask Jamie what sides he wanted with dinner tonight, only to be met with a lolling head and gaping mouth. The kid was out cold. I parked, pushing open the door as silently as I could.

Jamie had stopped napping years ago, so for him to crash just while driving across town, he had to be thoroughly wiped. Hopefully he’d be able to nap a few more minutes while I unloaded the Jeep.

Layla was due to be home soon, and she’d have no problem poking at him and re-energizing his mood. She’d been gone a lot lately, playing music with the guy she “wasn’t dating” so Jamie would be thrilled we were both home.

I was excited for the evening because I’d gotten ahead in my classes over the past week and didn’t have to do more than read over a few articles tonight. I’d be able to relax and just enjoy hanging out.

I clicked my back hatch open, lifting it stealthily, and pouted at the number of bags staring back at me. I didn’t have the time to shop weekly, so I always bought several weeks’ worth of food as soon as the money came in. It was convenient to only go once or twice, but it sure was annoying putting it all away.

Making the only logical choice there was, I grabbed as many bags as I could, stacking them down my arms like a conga line of sloths. I took a deep breath, heaving my arms up and speed walking to the door muttering a string of “fuck, fuckity fuck” when it felt like the bags were slicing through my bones.

I dropped them at the door as carefully as I could before making my way back for round two, cradling my tomato-red forearms. Only a half dozen more trips to go. No biggie.

“Would you like some help?”

I twisted, whacking my head on the side of the hatch frame. My eyes watered, and I rubbed my head as I looked up into an amused pair of eyes. I hadn’t seen or spoken to Garrett in almost a week since our cease-fire, and the sight of him sent a thrill through me. He stood a few feet away, hands tucked into the front pockets of his jeans, looking unfairly good in a black pull-over hoodie.

“Oh. No, I got it. Thanks, though.”

“You sure? It looks like your helper is down for the count.”

I smiled, looking over the outline of Jamie’s unconscious form. I’d always been jealous of how deep of a sleeper he was.

Garrett’s gaze followed my own. “How old is he?”

I tensed. I couldn’t help it, the reaction second nature. “He’s eight.”

“He seems like a good kid,” he said, grabbing several bags in each hand.

“He is—hey, you really don’t need to do that.” I held my hands up, waving him off like a stray cat. “I promise, it’s fine.”

“I know it’s fine, that’s why I’m doing it.” Rounding me, he headed to my front door, hollering over his shoulder, “I’m being neighborly, Madison, you should really quit this hot and cold thing you got going on.”

I scrunched my nose, pushing my lips up to meet it. I think I preferred it when he didn’t talk. Determined not to let him do it all, I grabbed as many bags as I could and power-walked my ass to the porch with as much sass as I possessed.

He shook his head but was smart enough not to say a word. After the last trip, I again tried to wave him off, but the stubborn man refused to budge. “Let me help you carry them inside.”

He looked so earnest standing there, holding a shit ton of my groceries, but I’d been deceived by a pretty face and kind gestures before. I was very much aware that if I invited him inside, there wasn’t a soul who would hear me yell unless Jamie woke up and wandered in.

My thoughts must’ve been playing across my face because his expression softened. “I’m just trying to be civil, no ulterior motives. I’m not a gold digger either.”

A stray laugh escaped me, and despite my hesitancy and general common sense, I drooped in defeat. “All right, but don’t look to me for help if Rugpants chews your leg off.”

“Rug what?”

Unlocking my door, I shoved it open, stepping inside to flip the closest light switch before snatching my bags back up and leading Garrett Rowe into my house.

Sadie sprinted around the corner from Layla’s bedroom first, and I danced to the side, barely avoiding her collision. She moved on to Garrett, sniffing around his legs and wagging her butt at him while he tried to set the bags on the bar without tripping over her.

Freeing his hands, he reached down to scratch her head. “Is this Rug…man?”

The second his voice graced the air, a muffled yapping sounded from my bedroom, and I giggled. “Rugpants, and no, that’s Sadie.”

Yapping turned to growling when my dog entered the hall, her stubby legs working hard to bring her to the intruder. “That’s Rugpants.”

He leaned down to give her the same scratches, but she snarled, hair rising along her back. I stepped forward to apologize and grab her even though I’d told him I wouldn’t, but he surprised me by chuckling. “My grandmother had a long-haired dachshund. They’re feisty things.”

I picked her up, snuggling her angry body into my chest. “Yeah, she’s all bark but no bite. Come on, Sadie.” Setting Rug down at my feet, I fought against the side door and forced them both outside. She was still barking, but at least it was a little less ear-splitting.

When I turned back, his eyes were analyzing my patio door before they slowly moved around the living room. “It’s nice.”

I gestured him back to the door for the rest of the bags. “It’s the same as yours, just opposite, I assume.”

“It is, but it feels homier here.”

I tried not to show it, but his comment warmed my heart. For years, I’d wanted nothing more than to give Jamie a home. Hearing that someone else thought I’d succeeded made me feel like the sun itself was rising inside of me. “Thank you.”

He tipped his head at the basket of yarn and half-finished blanket by the couch. “You knit?”

“Crochet, but yes. Not as much now as I used to though.”

He grunted in acknowledgment, and I swore the corner of his lips twitched. “Why don’t you go ahead and wake him up, I’ll start unloading.”

“Oh, no, that’s okay—”

“I know, Madison. I know you can do it on your own, but I’m here and have nothing else to do. Let me finish helping, and then I’m out of your hair.”

I rubbed the back of my neck. I needed to chill. He was being a friend, probably trying to make up for his asshole behavior before. I needed to stop being so pessimistic and assuming the worst out of everyone. He knew I had a roommate, and my son was right outside. He wasn’t going to do anything.

“All right, thank you.”

He looked at me over a box of pasta. “Was that so hard?”

I gave him a flat look. He had no idea. I hated admitting when I needed or wanted help. “I’ll be right back.”

Jamie slid out of the Jeep like a slug, dragging his feet next to me while we walked. He wasn’t a morning person, and that general description held true post-nap as well. “What has you feeling so drained, bud? Tough day?”

“Not really. Just didn’t sleep well last night.”

I frowned. He hadn’t mentioned anything this morning. He used to suffer from nightmares right after everything happened with Aaron, but I didn’t think he’d had one in a long time. I glanced at him wanting to ask, but knowing he’d deny and deflect. He was a lot like me that way.

So instead, I opted to perk him up. “Layla will be home any minute. We’ll throw together some dinner and then have the ultimate game night. Sound good?”

We stepped onto the porch, and I could feel his eyes on me. “How long will you be able to play?”

I winked, holding the door open. “As long as you want, bud. I don’t have to study tonight.”

He dropped his backpack to the floor, swinging in front of me, eyes bright. “Really?”

“Pinkie promise.” I looked over his head to Garrett, who had just about finished emptying all the bags. He’d been watching us from the second we walked in and met my eyes.

“Hey, bud, you remember our neighbor, Garrett?”

Jamie whipped around, frantically looking where I’d indicated and, spotting the large bulk of a man in our kitchen, plastered his small back to my front.

“Why are you in our house?” It was phrased as a question, but the way he demanded it, it sounded more like a hidden order for Garrett to leave.

“He saw me struggling with the groceries and offered to help.” I stepped around him so I could see his face. He looked furious, but underneath it was alarm.

“That’s what I’m for.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry. Next time, I’ll wake you up.” I pressed a loud, smacking kiss to his forehead. “But just know I’ll make you carry all the bags.”

I walked into the kitchen, Jamie hot on my heels, and tilted my head to look up at Garrett. I wouldn’t embarrass Jamie by apologizing for his rude question, but I hoped Garrett would understand he meant no harm.

His eyes searched my own, looking for an answer I didn’t know how to give. When he finally opened his mouth to speak, it wasn’t to me. “I noticed your gaming system over there. You any good?”

Jamie scoffed, arrogance coating the sound. “Yeah.”

Not fazed in the least by my child’s obvious dislike of him, Garrett nodded. “I have a few systems over on my side, but not that one. I haven’t seen one of those since I was young.”

I had to hand it to the man, he knew the right thing to say. Jamie’s eyes lit up, excitement and interest warring with his determination to stay angry. Jamie loved all things video game-related.

My dad owned a few systems, and they always played or watched walk-through videos when he visited. He wanted to ask about Garrett’s, the words were practically slamming against his lips, trying to get out.

Somehow Garrett managed not to laugh at the constipated-like expression on the kid’s face and took pity on him. He leaned against the bar, telling Jamie all about his gaming stash and what all he’d played.

I began putting the groceries away, listening to them chat and smiling as Jamie reluctantly thawed and probed our neighbor for details. Once finished, I headed over to see if the dogs were ready to come back inside when the front door flew open.

“Wench! I’m hungry, where’s my—oh. Well, hello there.” Layla’s eyes widened, and she rolled her lips into her mouth, kicking the door shut behind her. “Mads, there’s a man in the house.”

I exhaled, blowing out my cheeks. “Yes, this is Garrett. You’ve met him before.”

She raised a hand, stopping me. Dropping her bag by the door, she shucked off her shoes and pointed a finger at him.

“Hold up, isn’t he the one who called you a leech hidden in a pretty wrapper or some shit?” She cringed, her eyes cutting to Jamie. “I mean stuff.”

I gave her an exasperated look, and in my peripheral, I could see Garrett shifting as Jamie looked at him with narrowed eyes again.

Ignoring her question, I crossed my arms, letting my head fall back and addressing the ceiling. “Garrett, this is Layla.”

“Her wife. Sugar mama, if you will.”

Garrett widened his stance, accepting her challenge. “Do you often refer to your wife as a wench, Layla?”

She smirked, lowering her lashes over her eyes and fluttering them. “I have many pet names for her, but not all can be voiced in current company.”

“Pet names mean nothing if you don’t put a ring on her hand.” He looked over at me pointedly, and I struggled not to snort.

“Rings are materialistic and lack uniqueness. Pet names and affection are specific and personal,” she countered. “I’ve cleaned up her vomit, wiped away her tears, slept in the same bed, and held her hand while she pushed out that kid’s watermelon of a noggin.”

Garrett raised his hands in defeat, and a hint of a smile graced his lips. “Fair enough.”

“I don’t have a watermelon head.” Jamie stood to the side, glowering like he’d received the worst insult in the world. Considering he was in love with Layla, it probably was. I couldn’t help but laugh, ruffling his hair as I passed him on my way into the kitchen.

“If ya’ll are done with your pissing contest, I need to get started on dinner. Would you like to stay and eat, Garrett?” I looked at him over the bar, offering the friendliest smile I could.

He’d already been looking at me before I spoke, and if anything, his gaze seemed to spark with my question. Nate was my only experience with having a male friend, and I suddenly wondered if I’d crossed a line. Did he think I was hitting on him?

My face heated under his attention. “It’s nothing fancy, I’m making spaghetti and steaming up some veggies. But I tend to always make too much, so you’re more than welcome to stay.”

He shifted his weight, leaning his elbows onto the bar. “I don’t think I’ve ever known someone who didn’t make too much spaghetti.”

I chuckled. “True.”

He watched me wander the small kitchen, setting out pots and ingredients. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“No, I got it, why don’t you go relax. We don’t have cable or any streaming services, but there’s a container of movies in the coat closet.”

He paused, pushing his tongue against the inside of his bottom lip. “You mind if I fire up a game with Jamie?”

“That’s fine—” I started, but I trailed off at the two inches of flat stomach that greeted me when Garrett raised his hoodie over his head. He folded it across the back of a barstool, and I quickly averted my gaze while he adjusted his shirt, hoping he hadn’t noticed me ogling him.

Luckily for me, my little eavesdropper overheard Garrett’s question and was bobbing his head up and down next to the neighbor he’d sworn he didn’t like. I rolled my eyes and pointed at him. “Make sure you kick his butt.”

The kid nodded seriously. “I will.”

Chuckling and sending the boys away, I raised my brows and looked over at Layla, who’d been watching the entire thing with a ‘bitch, you got some shit to tell me’ look on her face.

“Get in here and help.”

She sucked on her teeth, putting her hands on her hips. “You just told him you had it under control.”

“Yeah, and I do, because you’re going to come chop up the veggies for me.”

Like a lion on the hunt, Layla marched into the kitchen, cornering me while I was elbow deep in dish water and couldn’t escape. I could tell by the glint in her eye, I wasn’t going to like whatever it was she had to say.

While we’d cooked, she’d told me more about Rick, the musician she’d finally admitted to hooking up with, and I was happy she’d found someone besides me she enjoyed spending time with.

The problem was she’d used her new relationship as an excuse to poke at me about my own dating life, again trying to convince me to try online dating. I’d brushed it off with an “I’ll think about it.”

For the most part, I’d been able to turn the conversation back to her throughout the evening and got a small reprieve while we’d all eaten. We’d all sat at the table, trading small talk and teasing Jamie about finally getting whooped on his game.

I smiled, remembering how appalled Garrett had looked when I’d scooped up my spaghetti and dumped it on a slice of buttered bread. I’d made sure to make direct eye contact when I shoved it in my mouth. I was serious about my food, and spaghetti sandwiches were a staple in my house.

Overall, it’d been a wonderful evening, but as soon as Jamie hopped in the shower, Layla had twisted, beelining for me. Garrett was still over, but he was in the living room, wrapping up the controllers and putting the system away. I’d told him not to worry about it, but he’d only looked at me like I was an idiot and done it anyway.

“So.”

Continuing to scrub the pan in my hands, I asked, “So, what?”

She groaned, smacking her hand on the counter. “Online dating! You said earlier that you’d think about it.”

“And you believed me?” I laughed, leaning to the side, trying to keep the rinsed pan over the sink while reaching for the towel I’d inadvertently left near the stove.

A large hand appeared in my peripheral, grabbing it and handing it to me from over the bar. I offered him a look that was half smile, half grimace, thankful while simultaneously wishing he’d go back into the living room so he wouldn’t hear our conversation.

Determined to make a point, Layla transferred her attention to him. “How old are you, Garrett?”

“Thirty-six.”

“Okay, so a little older. And have you ever met someone online?”

“Once.”

“And?”

He grunted. “And what?”

“Did you at least get laid?”

“Jesus, Layla, don’t ask him that.” I did not need the mental image of Garrett’s body sexing some other chick. Wait, other? No, any. Any chick.

She shrugged. She and I had never viewed sex the same way. She saw it as a simple activity for mutual pleasure that anyone could, and should, participate in whenever they wanted. I saw it as something personal. I’d never had a one-night stand. In fact, I’d only ever slept with two men, and both had been serious relationships.

“I’m just saying, it’s a win-win for you. Maybe you meet the man of your dreams, maybe not. But you could at least get a good night out of it. Lord knows your strung-out ass needs it.”

I glared at her, slapping the towel back onto the counter and reaching for the last pot. “Hard pass.”

She groaned. “Your soulmate could be waiting for you right now, and you don’t even know it.”

That had me bursting out laughing. “No man is waiting for this hot mess express. My baggage has baggage. I got suitcases and carry-ons, backpacks and purses. The entire fucking plane is full. If a man attempted to board, we’d plummet from the sky.”

She flung her hands forward, fingers spread wide, enunciating each of her words. “That’s why online dating is perfect for you. Put it up front that you have a kid and work a lot. Only the guys who are accepting of all that will message you.”

“Plus, the ones who want to take me out with the intention of slipping me a roofie.” I forced a laugh that didn’t quite match my eyes, but Layla didn’t accept the white flag I was clearly waving. She knew I was trying to brush off the conversation, and she’d decided she wasn’t playing anymore.

“You can’t be scared of men forever.”

Aware of Garrett’s vision burning a hole in the side of my head, I turned to face her fully. “I’m not scared of men, Layla. I’m just not interested in dating. I’m stretched thin as it is.”

“It’s been years, Mads. We’re social creatures, we’re not meant to be alone.”

“I’m not alone,” I said, but it came out snappy and defensive. Smoothing my voice back out, I said, “I’m happy with how things are.”

She shook her head, backing out of the kitchen. “No, Mads, you’re not. You’ve just decided it’s easier to let him win.” She raised her hand in farewell to Garrett, turning toward the hallway. “I’m going to steal your shower since Jamie’s in this one. Goodnight, Garrett.”

I watched her disappear into her bedroom, Sadie at her heels. The house was suddenly too quiet, the only sound being Jamie’s shower. My eyes stung, and I didn’t know what to do with my face.

Layla was brutal and honest, and she could be a real bitch, but she was rarely ever wrong about me. I loved the hell out of her, but sometimes I hated how see-through I was to her.

“I’m going to step out for a smoke before I head home. Come out, you look like you could use some air.”

I cut my eyes to Garrett, taking in the lines of his face and letting him do the same to me. I wasn’t sure how he knew, but that was exactly what I needed. “Sure. Give me a second to go let Jamie know where I’ll be.”

He could have gone ahead and stepped out, but he didn’t. He waited for me, pack in one hand, hoodie in the other. Opening the door, he stepped to the side, letting me pass.

Foregoing the chairs—because I wasn’t sure the thin plastic could handle Garrett’s bulk—I dropped down onto the stairs, cradling my knees to my chest and breathing in the crisp eastern air.

He lowered himself with significantly more grace than I had and sat next to me. He didn’t push, and I was thankful. We sat in companionable silence, each swimming in our own pool of thoughts.

I wasn’t sure how long we’d been out there, but I was jarred to the present when something covered my face. I panicked, spine snapping straight before I could suddenly see again.

A raspy chuckle sounded next to me, and I looked down to realize Garrett had pulled his hoodie over me.

“You’re shivering so hard you’re shaking the cement.”

“Asshole, I was not.” But I laughed, pulling it the rest of the way down and tucking my legs inside of it like a small cocoon. It was warm from being rolled up in his lap, and it smelled like him. When he finally stood and bid me goodnight, I watched him go, feeling oddly relaxed.

It wasn’t until later, after I’d read to Jamie and crawled into bed, two things became clear. One, I was enjoying the feel of sleeping in a man’s clothing way more than I should, and two, the entire time we’d sat outside, he’d never actually lit a cigarette.