The air in the room stills as we all wait for Marleen, perfectly coiffed and pristine Marleen, talk about being a heroin addict. I never would have guessed that.

"There were days that I would lie on my couch, my ex cooking the drug, and not able to move until I got my first hit. I was so dependent, so depressed, so consumed by chasing happiness that I truly never understood what happiness was to me. It got to the point that happiness was the drug for me. That if I didn't shoot up every few hours, I was convinced I would fall into a deep depression, a depression so cataclysmic that I would want to commit suicide. So I continued to use."

Sounds about right. She could have been best friends with my parents.

"But then, I got pregnant. On a bender, I was careless, didn't use protection. The fear I faced the moment I saw the positive test in my hand, it was so consuming, I wasn't sure if I could even walk out of the bathroom. I was pregnant. And the horrible thing was, I wasn't scared about raising a baby, I was scared of giving up the only happiness I was aware of. Fear ate me alive, to the point that I kicked up my habit, shooting up more and more every day until I started miscarrying weeks later." She pauses and takes a deep breath. "As I sat there, on my bathroom floor, blood from my baby around me, I wasn't sure if life could get any more difficult. Instead of accepting fate and pushing past the fear, I let it set the course of my life."

Walking to the front of the classroom, she says, "Until you face your fears, push through, you will never know what's waiting for you on the other side. In my instance, I could have been a mother, but will never really know what that's like now. Don't let this unpleasant emotion set the timeline of your life, like I let it do to me."

Clapping her hands together, she scans the room, making eye contact with what it seems like everyone. "Our next journey, if you haven't guessed already, is to step up and face your fears. Think about what's holding you back, what's setting you apart from leaping over that fence and seeing what's on the other side for you. It's not until you face your fears that you will finally be able to find acceptance."

Fear.

My fear doesn't hinder me, it spurs me on. Fear of not being successful, of making something of myself will do that to you. What's hindering me is my uncle. How am I supposed to metaphorically and lamely hop the fence if I have no control over it? I need money, I had money, money was taken away, therefore, I need to work again to get more money. No fear in that, just pure hatred.

The session breaks, giving attendees a chance to go to the bathroom before we separate into our groups. Hollyn stands, stretching right before she heads to the bathroom. Jace pauses his FaceTime, leaving me alone with Daisy.

Since I fooled around with her on my couch, I've seen her a few times, doing simple things like baking, cooking, and hitting up the local food trucks around the area. Nothing too intimate, nothing cutting close to where we went a week ago.

I still can feel the imprint of her skin on my fingers and for some reason, it bothers me. I'm not stupid. I'm not one of those men who are blind to their feelings. I like Daisy, it's as simple as that. But what I don't get is why it bothers me.

Maybe because whenever I'm around her, I can't sulk and hate life like I want to. I can't point a finger and tell Life to fuck off. When I'm with Daisy, I feel invigorated, even though everything else in my life sucks. Even though nothing else about my life has changed. I don't want to rely on her for happiness but damn if I haven't done just that.

"Are you ignoring me?" Daisy asks, pulling me from my thoughts.

Slouched in my chair, my hands folded in my lap, I take a sideways glance at Daisy. She's wearing a pair of black leggings, a thick sweater that comes to her upper thigh, and her boots. Her hair is straight, falling over her shoulders, looking extra blonde, extra innocent. She's so damn beautiful and she has no idea.

"Nah, I've got better things to ignore than you," I answer.

"What does that mean?" Her nose twists in confusion. "That doesn't seem like a very nice answer, Carter."

I rub my face while letting out a long breath. "Yeah, I can be a dick sometimes. You should know this by now."

"You've always been nice to me."

"Because it's hard to be a dick to someone like you."

"Then why are you being one now?" she asks, her face looking really worried.

Fuck, I don't want to make her cry. I'm in a shitty mood thanks to Marleen's revelation. It's managed to dig up old feelings of my parents and Daisy is the lucky one who gets to deal with it.

"Not in a good mood," I answer curtly.

"Oh." She plays with the hem of her sweater. From the corner of my eye, I can see her lifting her head up on occasion to glance in my direction. The innocent look starts to drive me crazy.

"What?" I snap. "Why are you looking at me?"

Her startled expression easily hits me in the gut, tipping me over the edge of being a dick to being concerned.

"I'm sorry. I didn't think I did anything wrong." Standing abruptly, she shoots across the room, other attendees blocking me from view.

Good job, Carter. You're a real fucking winner.

Slowly, I get up, feeling the ache of my movement deep in my bones. I'm in my twenties but feel the burn of my forties in every joint. That's what long nights of standing over a grill will do to you.

Not seeing Daisy in the room, I head out the door where I immediately see her sitting on the cold stone steps of the church. Her arms crossed over her chest and leaning forward. Denver doesn't get very cold in March like in the Northeast, but there is still a nip in the air.

"Daisy."

Turning her head, she looks back at me but then focuses straight ahead again. Knowing I'm going to have to tread lightly with her, I sit down so our shoulders are touching.

Ways of apologizing flow through my head, but none of them sound right, so I go with the truth. "The reason I lived with my uncle was because my parents overdosed. Marleen's story hit a little close to home for me. Instead of being an adult and addressing my feelings, I took them out on you. I'm sorry."

There, that wasn't so hard, even though I can taste blood in my mouth from gnawing on my cheek.

"You don't have to explain, Carter."

"I don't want you to be upset."

She shrugs her shoulders. "You don't owe me anything. It's not like we're together."

Not together?

Now why the fuck does that comment make me want to start punching the stone of the sanctuary we sit on?

I don't get a chance to answer her when she lets out a long breath. "I don't know what I was thinking."

"What do you mean?" I don't like how cryptic she's being.

"Nothing." Standing, she brushes off her bottom and takes off toward the door, but I don't let her get too far before yanking on her shoulder and spinning her around to face me.

"Daisy, what the hell are you talking about?"

"Don't swear at me." She points her finger, trying to lecture me.

Rolling my eyes, I answer, "I said hell. It's not like I told you to fuck off." She tries to spin away again but I stop her, this time pinning her against the wall. "Tell me what's going on?"

Not happy, she reluctantly answers me. "I mustered up a lot of confidence to ask you a question today but you're in such a bad mood, that I don't even want to ask you now. I just want to forget the whole thing."

A question? Now I'm really intrigued.

Shifting in place, a lightness to my voice and in ease in my features, I ask, "You want to ask me a question, Snowflake? Well, don't hold out on me now. What is it?"

"No, forget it. It was stupid."

"You'll never know if it's stupid until you ask me."

"Ugh, you're not supposed to say that. You're supposed to say nothing you could ask me is stupid."

"Come on." I quirk my lips to the side. "I'm not going to lie. What if you asked me something like what are those jiggly milk sacs on your chest? That would be a stupid question because you and me both know they are your fantastic tits." I move a little closer, capturing her with my strong, broad body.

"I don't like the term milk sacs."

Chuckling, I say, "Fair enough. Now tell me, what is your question?"

She bites her lower lip, trying to decide if she's going to ask me. Little does she know, she's not going back inside until she asks. She won't be able to get away that easily.

"Come on, Snowflake. The longer you wait, the more of the meeting we'll miss."

"Fine." She takes a deep breath and says, "My sister is getting married in a few weeks. She said I could invite a guest so I was wondering if you wanted to go with me. You know, to the wedding." She swallows hard and adds, "As my date."

Weddings. I would love to say I'm Vince Vaughn from Wedding Crashers when it comes to weddings, but I'm the exact opposite. I can't stand them. They are an extreme waste of money that can be put toward buying a house, rather than a party most people won't remember because they'll be so damn twisted from the open bar.

My first instinct is to say no thanks, but when I meet Daisy's eyes, when she gives me the most pathetic plea using just those blue irises, I feel myself cracking once again. She can get me to do anything, I'm convinced of it.

"A wedding?" I ask, delaying the inevitable.

"Yeah. It might be fun." She fidgets in place. "There will be wedding cake. If anything, you can go to eat the cake."

"I can eat cake anytime. Give me a better reason." I smirk, lacing our fingers together.

From the tilt of my lips, her eyes light up and she smiles brightly at me. Accepting the challenge, she answers, "Um, open bar?"

"Good answer, but getting drunk with a bunch of sweaty, pelvic-thrusting strangers is not my favorite thing to do on a Saturday night."

Looking to the side, she searches for another answer. "You get to slow dance with me."

Taking her hands, I place them around my waist and pull her in close. Moving her side to side, I say, "I'm slow dancing with you right now. Try again."

Moving back and forth, her eyes really studying me, intent on finding a reason, she answers, "I've got it."

"You don't have it," I tease.

She shakes her head. "No, I've got it. If you come to the wedding you get to see me in one of the prettiest dresses ever."

"Prettiest dresses ever?" I ask with a raised eyebrow. "Is this the same dress you never sent me a picture of? The one you keep mentioning?"

"The one and only," she replies with a knowing smile.

"How pretty are we talking?"

She leans in closer, her lips pressing against my chin. "Very pretty."

"I don't know . . ." I drag out.

"Stop making this difficult for me," she says, laughing nervously. "Talk about facing my fears. It's not easy asking a guy like you out on a date. Let alone a guy in general."

"A guy like me?"

"Yeah, a guy like you."

"Shall I ask you to elaborate?"

"Best that you don't." I love how she can still tease me when feeling insecure. Just goes to show how strong she really is.

"Okay, you got a date, Snowflake."

"Really?" She bounces in my arms. "You'll go with me?"

"I'll go with you, on one condition."

"What's that?" She snuggles into my chest, hugging me tightly.

"You go home with me after the wedding."

"That's presumptuous. I haven't even met the groomsmen yet." Little minx.

"Don't even start with me," I warn. "You're going home with me."

"Only if I can drive your bike," she counters.

"How did this become a bargaining discussion? You're supposed to be convincing me why I should be going. I don't understand how this got switched around."

"It's because-"

"Is this what you've been doing at these meetings?" A deep, semi-slurring voice breaks my connection with Daisy, raising the hairs on the back of my neck. What the fuck? Turning, I see the one man I could go the rest of my life never laying eyes on again.

Uncle Chuck.

My eyes close tightly, wiling him to leave without another word. When I open them, I see him appear from around the darkly lit corner, his belly leading the way, his ever-ready scowl of indignation present.

"What are you doing here?" I shift Daisy behind me, trying to shield her from whatever my deviant uncle is up to.

"Came to check up on you, to make sure you're actually going to these meetings and completing the tasks. From the look of it, instead of taking part of the class, you're fucking around like usual."

"I'm not fucking around," I grit out, tension rolling off me.

"If I may," Daisy says, holding up her finger and coming around from behind me, "we are on a break. Carter is very much a participator."

"Daisy," I warn.

"What?" She glances at me. "It's true." Turning back to my uncle, completely oblivious to the palpable hatred flowing between this ignorant man and myself, she says, "Carter is very active in the meetings. He's always defending and supporting me."

Uncle Chuck shakes his head, his jowls jiggling in sarcastic laughter. "Sorry to say, but you're blind there, sweetheart. The boy wants in your pants. It's the only reason he's paying attention to you. Believe me, I've seen the way he works."

A small gasp pops out of Daisy, and I hate the worry I see in her features.

Calmly, I say, "Daisy, go back inside. I'll be right there."