He grabbed his coat and headed out the door. On the way over to her house, he thought of Jocelyn and how he would rather be spending the day with her. But this was his own fault. He should have talked to Mallory before now. Even if he weren't having feelings for Jocelyn, he would have broken it off with Mallory anyway. Jocelyn really had nothing to do with it.
When he arrived, he pulled the car to a stop in front of the house and turned off the engine. When he looked over at the driveway, Jocelyn's car was gone. He sighed, wishing she was here. But what he needed to say to Mallory, he needed to say alone. Squaring his shoulders, he slid out of the car, but looked up at Jocelyn's bedroom window, where she had stood crying in the window the night before.
"What are you waiting for?" Mallory asked, standing on the porch, wrapping her cardigan sweater around herself. "Come on in. It's cold out here."
"Mallory, we have to talk." He looked her square in the eye, but didn't move.