Read Online Rekindled: A Mountain Man Romance by Johnny Knox - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Johnny Knox
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have our shit together.
I mean, not really. Sure there are plenty of classmates with rings on their fingers, baby bumps spread across their bellies, and wedding pictures blowing up their Instagram accounts.
But that doesn’t make someone put together. Honestly, it just makes someone trapped.
Not that I’m judging.... Okay, I’m totally judging. Because looking around Katie’s mom’s house¬ where we’re drinking––just like we did every Friday night in high school––I’ve got horrible flashbacks of going to school with these people.
Parties in this exact same sunken living room. Parties where jocks like Chad, Katie’s now fiancé, would show up with a few cases of Bud Light and the girls were supposed to be entertained while the guys played beer pong all night long.
And to be honest, that is exactly what’s happening right now. Except it isn’t even dark out. It’s only two o’clock on a Saturday afternoon, and here we are, pre-funking our reunion, reminiscing the “good old days”.
“Rosie, we have got to talk,” Katie, my oldest friend from high school says, handing me a glass of Franzia.
I look at the cheap wine and hide my scowl. I’m not some high-end connoisseur, I mean hell no. I like my Trader Joe’s Two-Buck-Chuck like everybody else. But Franzia from a box? Aren’t we a little old to be raiding her mom’s boxed wine stash?
“Rosie,” Katie says more shrilly. “You’re not even paying attention to me. I was asking you if you think my wedding colors are a good idea. I was thinking Creamsicle. A creamy white and peach?” Her voice has this high lilt to it like this conversation actually matters.
Who cares about wedding colors? Which okay, I get that my attitude could come off as a little jaded... but the truth is, I am.
Slightly.
I am coming to a reunion with little to show for my life. I am working a temp job, with a rented room, still pining after a guy who I never so much as kissed.
For all I know North is married with a dozen children by now.
I’m probably crazy … but still, after all this time, every single man I meet, I compare to him. His tender gaze, his soulful words, always poetic and never crude. We exchanged a handful of conversations in the months we knew one another … yet I’ve been carrying them around with me as a talisman for what true love could be.
If a man asks me out but he doesn’t measure up to the barometer I’ve created in my mind… then I don’t accept his offer
And yes, that means I am a twenty-eight-year-old virgin, in love with a man who was never mine.
Looking around this living room, I am reminded that I am in a rut. One I don’t know how to get out of. I wish I could move on from the idea of North and me … but I think unless someone has concrete information about what happened to him after he left mid-way through our senior year, I’ll be pining for him for the rest of my life.
Maybe I’m a fool––but I don’t think love at first sight is just for fairy tales. It’s what we had all those years ago.
So I agreed to come to this ridiculous reunion with one hope in mind––that North would miraculously show.
“Are you even listening? You were my best friend for years. You should care.”
I smile at her taking the high road. “I think Creamsicle colors sound awesome.”
“Good. Me too.” Katie beams, and then as if punishing me for not caring more about her wedding, she goes for the single-lady kill shot.
“So, Rosie, are you seeing anyone?” Katie asks slowly, her hand on my arm, and it’s like those words magically summon a throng of our old girlfriends.
There’s got to be eight of them, hanging on to whatever Katie’s going to say next.
I take a long sip of my Franzia trying to figure out how to play off the fact that there is no man in my life.
“No. Not right now. Work keeps me pretty busy.”
“Well,” Michelle says, the former class president. “I met Max on tietheknot.com and it was the best
I mean, not really. Sure there are plenty of classmates with rings on their fingers, baby bumps spread across their bellies, and wedding pictures blowing up their Instagram accounts.
But that doesn’t make someone put together. Honestly, it just makes someone trapped.
Not that I’m judging.... Okay, I’m totally judging. Because looking around Katie’s mom’s house¬ where we’re drinking––just like we did every Friday night in high school––I’ve got horrible flashbacks of going to school with these people.
Parties in this exact same sunken living room. Parties where jocks like Chad, Katie’s now fiancé, would show up with a few cases of Bud Light and the girls were supposed to be entertained while the guys played beer pong all night long.
And to be honest, that is exactly what’s happening right now. Except it isn’t even dark out. It’s only two o’clock on a Saturday afternoon, and here we are, pre-funking our reunion, reminiscing the “good old days”.
“Rosie, we have got to talk,” Katie, my oldest friend from high school says, handing me a glass of Franzia.
I look at the cheap wine and hide my scowl. I’m not some high-end connoisseur, I mean hell no. I like my Trader Joe’s Two-Buck-Chuck like everybody else. But Franzia from a box? Aren’t we a little old to be raiding her mom’s boxed wine stash?
“Rosie,” Katie says more shrilly. “You’re not even paying attention to me. I was asking you if you think my wedding colors are a good idea. I was thinking Creamsicle. A creamy white and peach?” Her voice has this high lilt to it like this conversation actually matters.
Who cares about wedding colors? Which okay, I get that my attitude could come off as a little jaded... but the truth is, I am.
Slightly.
I am coming to a reunion with little to show for my life. I am working a temp job, with a rented room, still pining after a guy who I never so much as kissed.
For all I know North is married with a dozen children by now.
I’m probably crazy … but still, after all this time, every single man I meet, I compare to him. His tender gaze, his soulful words, always poetic and never crude. We exchanged a handful of conversations in the months we knew one another … yet I’ve been carrying them around with me as a talisman for what true love could be.
If a man asks me out but he doesn’t measure up to the barometer I’ve created in my mind… then I don’t accept his offer
And yes, that means I am a twenty-eight-year-old virgin, in love with a man who was never mine.
Looking around this living room, I am reminded that I am in a rut. One I don’t know how to get out of. I wish I could move on from the idea of North and me … but I think unless someone has concrete information about what happened to him after he left mid-way through our senior year, I’ll be pining for him for the rest of my life.
Maybe I’m a fool––but I don’t think love at first sight is just for fairy tales. It’s what we had all those years ago.
So I agreed to come to this ridiculous reunion with one hope in mind––that North would miraculously show.
“Are you even listening? You were my best friend for years. You should care.”
I smile at her taking the high road. “I think Creamsicle colors sound awesome.”
“Good. Me too.” Katie beams, and then as if punishing me for not caring more about her wedding, she goes for the single-lady kill shot.
“So, Rosie, are you seeing anyone?” Katie asks slowly, her hand on my arm, and it’s like those words magically summon a throng of our old girlfriends.
There’s got to be eight of them, hanging on to whatever Katie’s going to say next.
I take a long sip of my Franzia trying to figure out how to play off the fact that there is no man in my life.
“No. Not right now. Work keeps me pretty busy.”
“Well,” Michelle says, the former class president. “I met Max on tietheknot.com and it was the best
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