Not My Kind of Hero

by Pippa Grant

I want her to know she’s strong enough to do hard things. But you have to do the hard things before you know you’re strong enough.

“Flint? Everything okay?” “You’re a girl.” Motherfucking fucker, I did not just say that.

She’s glaring at me straight in the eye. And I like it. “Mr. Jackson, has it ever occurred to you that when a woman dresses up, she’s doing it to feel good about herself, and your opinion matters for less than zero?

What in the actual hell makes you think I’d try to seduce you? What makes you worthy? This?” She waves a hand at me exactly as I was waving a hand at her a moment ago. And I shrink. I shrink.

And if that wasn’t enough, when she reaches the doorway, she turns and meets my gaze with hard, unwavering, but shiny blue eyes. “And I hope you think of me when you eat that cherry crisp. It’s the last thing of mine you’ll ever eat.” Every ounce of blood drains from my head to my cock at the images that flood my vision.

I know that I can’t be a good partner to anyone if I don’t know what I want and what I’m willing to offer. So you can rest assured that no matter how objectively attractive any man might be, I won’t be dating until I’m satisfied with myself and where I am in my own journey of loving myself.

She’s wearing bright-pink pajama pants decorated with squirrels, a Half-Cocked Heroes concert T-shirt, and there’s an eye mask shoved up onto her forehead, making her bedhead stick out even worse.

Half Cocked Heroes easter egg :)

The sight of those sleepy baby blues and that short blonde bedhead has rendered me stupid, and it’s all I can do to hang on to the one ounce of reason remaining in my brain to spit out my purpose in being here.

“I told Junie that you’d have to be a completely different person before I’d ever consider dating you.” And now my balls are sweating. “I don’t want to date you. I just want to do something nice for Tony’s family. And Tony. This is really more for Tony than it is for you.” “You don’t want to date me.” “I’m a serial heartbreaker.” Not the single brow lift. Jesus. Not the single brow lift.

Coming here to apologize was an awful idea. My chest aches. My veins are buzzing. I said too much. I never say that much. I said too much. And she’s watching me with wide blue eyes that tell me she did not sign up for my level of fucked up.

I can’t remember the last time I was wrapped in such a solid, warm, comforting bear hug. Which officially needs to be renamed something else so I don’t picture Earl trying to wrap his arms around me, because that’s actually terrifying. Ah. It’s a Flint hug.

I want to kiss him. I want to remember what it feels like to be kissed by someone who wants to kiss me back. Flint definitely wants to kiss me back.

“I wish you’d been a crotchety old man who yelled at everyone to get off his lawn.” “I wish you’d been a selfish opportunist wanting to subdivide the ranch and put crappy houses on it.” “We can’t do this.” At least, that’s what my mouth says. What my mouth does, though, is a different story.

You can’t go through life without getting hurt, my friend. So you choose. Do you take the risk that it’s worth it, or do you keep hiding behind all the lies you’ve told yourself about being happy alone and not deserving someone to love you?”

June spares me a glance then. “Don’t look at my mom wrong.”

But it’s hard to keep being amused at not being able to touch this woman.

I get it, I do. I understand Maisey’s priorities and Junie’s point of view. But I don’t like it when kids make the rules about their parent’s love lives.

I blink quickly. “I don’t take it for granted.” He lifts his dark-copper brows. “Feeling like I belong,” I explain. “And Junie too. I will never take that for granted. We needed somewhere to belong.” He nods. “Good place to belong.” It is. It really, truly is.

“More,” she pleads. “How much more?” “All the more.”

I can compartmentalize. I can have a fling with Flint and also be a good mom. I get to be both. Don’t I? Out of your head, Maisey. Get out of your head.

YES

But because for the first time in my life, I trust that I’ve found someone who knows what it’s like to be abandoned. Who knows how hard it is to fit in. And who’s still willing to put themselves out there no matter the pain if it ends terribly. For the first time in my life, I think I’ve found someone I want to love.

“And I don’t want you dating Coach Jackson because I don’t want you to get hurt. You’re infatuated. It’s not good for you in the condition you’re in.”

I really REALLY don’t like the Junie in control of her mother’s romantic life part of this story. I know she comes around in the end butshe’s leaving for college in less than two years. Why does she have a say in any of it as long as she's being sheltered, nourished, and loved?

I don’t know if I’m breathing. I don’t know if I’m still alive. All I know is that if there’s meaning to life, it’s this. It’s Maisey, beneath me on a furry rug in front of a fireplace, her breath coming in sweet little gasps while she peppers my head with kisses. This is it. This is everything. This is home. And it’s terrifying as all fuck.

“It’s easier to keep people at arm’s length than to risk letting them hurt me.” Forget his hand. I need to touch his face. His cheeks. His temple. His lips. “That’s a lonely way to live,” I whisper.

“Sometimes figuring out who you are and who you want to be involves figuring out who to trust to go on the journey with you.”

You’re a star, Maisey. Not a TV star. A celestial star, shining bright, bringing hope and inspiration everywhere you go.

“Mom. I’m sixteen. And sometimes dumb. And sometimes ridiculous. But I’m still less than two years from being able to run away for real. If I can leave you in good hands, then I want to. Also, you do know it’s really stupid to keep telling me I come first when you never put yourself first, don’t you? Which lesson am I supposed to learn here? Do as you say, or do as you do?”

Again, not Junie's decision.

“She truly is remarkable.” “She comes by it naturally.” “Are you flattering me, Mr. Jackson?” “I’m trying to tell you that I’m madly in love with you, Ms. Spencer, and want to be part of your life and your daughter’s too.”

I always thought I’d be happy being alone, but that was before I knew what it was like to be with you.”

“I didn’t want to love you,” I confess. “I didn’t want to love anyone. But I can’t help myself. Not when you’re so much more than I ever expected you to be.” “Young and hot?” he murmurs. And now I’m laughing too. “Yes. Young and hot.

“I wanted to find me”—I whisper—“and I think I did. In you.” “So you’ll give me a chance?”

“I love you so much,” I tell him. “I thought I wanted—that I needed—to find me by myself. But finding us will be the greatest joy of my life.”