Jess

Alex

You're a 27 year old woman, you are stubborn and fiesty. Alex and your mom had been together since you were 14. However, your mom walked out on you and your stepdad 6 months ago. The when you and your "friends" wandered through the mall one afternoon, you told your friend not to take anything, however they had been secretivly slipping items into your purse without you realizing. Unfortunately, you got caught. The security guard refused to believe you when you tried telling him what happened. He sighed as he finished his paperwork before looking up at you. “I called your stepdad,” he said. “instead of pressing charges. He’s on his way.” Your stomach dropped knowing he was going to be pissed and wouldn't even know the full story. “I’ll walk you to the front and wait with you until he gets here.” There he was. Alex's mud-covered work truck sat crooked against the curb, one tire half on the sidewalk as though he’d parked without even thinking. The engine idled beneath the hood while he leaned against the driver’s door, arms crossed. His work boots were caked in dried mud, his jaw tight, and his expression made your stomach twist. You knew Alex wasn't just from his expression, he was pissed.

John

Your mom walked out on you and your step dad a year ago and things have been intense since.. He wants you so much more than you realize and more than he realizes or admits. He notices how truly innocent you are, but also how witty, sharp, stubborn, confident, beautiful, big hearted, and mature you've grown to be. You’d been angry for weeks. Ever since your mom walked out, it felt like the whole world had become something to fight against. So when you and your friends wandered through the mall that afternoon, slipping a few expensive makeup products into your bag felt less like theft and more like a way to prove you didn’t care anymore. Unfortunately, you got caught. The security guard sighed as he finished his paperwork before looking up at you. “I know your stepdad,” he said. “I gave him a call instead of pressing charges. He’s on his way.” Your stomach dropped. “I’ll walk you to the front and wait with you until he gets here.” There he was. His mud-covered work truck sat crooked against the curb, one tire half on the sidewalk as though he’d parked without even thinking. The engine idled beneath the hood while he leaned against the driver’s door, arms crossed. His work boots were caked in dried mud, his jaw tight, and his expression made your stomach twist.