Her center of gravity always seems to favor Jude, the inexplicable pull of his entire being is such that when she succumbs to the force, it's more relief than a loss of resistance. She reaches up and drags her fingertips along his brow, tracing edges and planes until she reaches his lips, underlining them with her thumb. Her eyes close as she leans forward. She hovers for a moment, their mouths open and breaths shallow.
Just before contact, she smiles, then slides her lips against his bottom lip, teeth tracing the edge before slotting her mouth against his, her tongue slipping inside.
Taking her time, Hailey's fingers move through his hair, scraping his scalp, curling over his ear. She doesn't press hard; instead, she uses feather-light touches along his neck, slowly easing into his hold as his hands slide beneath her coat and clutch her hips, his grasp tight and warm. Even when she starts to grow dizzy, she maintains her leisurely pace, breathing against his mouth and somehow feeling more than the air enter her lungs when she inhales.
His hands creep beneath her sweater and camisole, gliding against her skin as his fingers climb every vertebra. She flicks her tongue against his upper lip, biting his lower lip and sucking it gently, soothing it and repeating until he moans, low and gritty.
Heat flares between them; the steady gentle burn threatens to become more. Somehow, she slows her ministrations until her forehead is pressed against his, both breathing heavily, unbalanced from more than lack of air. She feels his eyelashes flutter against her cheeks, waking them both from the euphoria of a sunrise dream.
“I've been waiting all day to do that,” she whispers against his mouth. His hands, running up and down her back, come to a crawl.
“Why'd you wait until now?”
Hailey blanks, her reasons seeming silly in retrospect. Instead, she shrugs, pulling her own hands from beneath his shirt. “It seems stupid now, but... I wanted to have a perfect day with you, to do as much as possible. Do something worthwhile.”
Her voice gets smaller as she looks down at his chest, “All my best memories involve you.”
At her confession, he remains silent; a stab of doubt causes her to pull away and look him in the eye. She catches a glimpse of unshed tears in his eyes before he pulls her to his chest, hooking his chin over her shoulder and holding her tight against him.
They remain wrapped in each other’s arms until a chiming from her purse causes them to pull apart.
“We need to head back,” Hailey switches off the alarm on her phone. “You need to be at the airport soon. More adventure awaits you.”
He hums in response, climbing off the picnic table with his hand clasping hers. Jude agrees to stop at a bakery for a cup of tea and a baguette, willing to prolong this time as much as she is. When they reach her flat, he feels a sudden heaviness settle over him like a dread he's never known. Just before she gets the door open, he reaches around and stops her from twisting the handle, pulling her against him.
Wrapping his arms around her from behind, he tucks his face into her neck, inhaling deeply, that comforting peace creeping into his arteries, feeding his heart. Jude presses his lips against her neck in a way he's done many times before, back when actual lip contact was forbidden.
“Thank you for all of this. Every. Single. Moment.” He punctuates his words with kisses along her neck, stopping at her ear with one last kiss.
If Perry observes anything but utter devotion between them when he and Jude leave for the airport, he's smart enough not to say anything.
Hours later, Hailey goes to sleep exhausted but cautiously hopeful after her endless day. The opposite is true for Jude, who spent the day feeling like it was the last hurrah. He falls into an uneasy sleep, feeling completely terrified.
Chapter Ten
The evening after Jude gets back from his trip, he spends twenty minutes staring at his blank computer screen. He knows this is the best time to contact Hailey if he wants to do it. The problem is that he doesn't know where to start. He doesn't know how to articulate that whatever it is they have between them is too much. Too much.
He just had one day with her. One perfect day. It wasn't boring. There wasn't a moment his mind wandered to what other things he could be doing. He spent it laughing with her, asking questions, engaging her in legitimate discussions, grinning at her quirky sense of humor, and bickering over trivial matters.
The rest of his trip with Perry went by in a blur. Not because he didn't have fun, but because every waking moment was consumed by thoughts of Hailey. Would she like this? What face would she make right now? Would that guy flirt with her? Would she complain less than Perry? Would she make him his coffee while he took a shower? What was she doing at that very moment?
It scared him.
It makes him feel vulnerable. He had an acute sense of euphoria coupled with the glaring understanding that he cannot control his emotions and feelings when it comes to Hailey. It's happened in the past; he had these brief, all-consuming infatuations with her. Sometimes it'll last for a week, sometimes months. It typically ends with her crushing his heart and him killing a bottle of liquor and making bad decisions.
The catch is that it’s never coincided with her feeling the same way at the same time before. For them, physical entanglements never occurred with actual emotional ties; they'd always had the luxury of writing it off on programs or stress or hot damn you looked hot out there, never having to truly account for slip-ups.
But now? Now it's real life. Now it means something. Now...
Now he's not so sure.
He closes his laptop and leans back in his kitchen chair, drumming his fingers on the table. No. Not yet. Maybe tomorrow.
“I can't believe you! I cannot believe you,” John yells over the din of the crowded bar. Marta sits beside him, watching the volatile scene unfold between Hailey and John. “You are so naive. So naive.”
“Why? Because I think I can make a difference?”
“No, I think you'll make a difference. No doubt about that. But I don't think you have the slightest clue about how hard it’ll be.”
Hailey leans back as though the physical distance can stop his verbal attack. “We have this discussion at least twice a week. You'd think you'd come up with better reasons other than I'm too much of a princess to do actual work.”
“Hey, if the slipper fits,” he points the neck of his bottle at her in a patronizing fashion. “You think that just because you did a couple of months at a women's shelter in the safety of your own backyard that you're qualified to become an authority on world matters? No. It doesn't work like that. You got to get your hands dirty.”
“What do you think I'm even doing here?”
“Hell if I know. Going on holiday and buying clothes?” He points at her new leather coat and boots that cost almost as much a month's rent.
“I don’t believe in sacrificing my interests for the sake of my convictions.” She shakes her head, narrowing her eyes. “Just because I enjoy fashion doesn't mean I'm unable to empathize with those women. The two are unrelated.”
“Oh? Next time you provide trauma counseling to a refugee or a reintegration training to a displaced person, wear that exact outfit. See how well they relate to you.”
“Okay, fine. Then what am I supposed to do? I can only travel as far as my program allows me. This entire semester was dependent on my mentor agreeing to the plan and hosting me at the university.”
“Get your hands dirty.” He throws back the rest of his beer. “You won't really get what you're researching and working towards until you go out and see it.”
John slides off his stool and leaves without so much as a goodbye. Hailey's nostrils flare as she breathes slowly, trying to reel in her anger. She looks up at Marta who's studying her closely.
“Do you ever get legitimately angry? Like... throw things, yell, ugly sob angry?”
Arching her eyebrows, Hailey shrugs. “Not often and definitely not in public. I compartmentalize well. As a result, I'm prone to bottling my emotion
s.”
“Such a healthy coping mechanism.” Marta grabs the waiter and orders another drink. Hailey's eyes narrow at Marta, watching her avoid eye contact.
“You agree with him, don't you?” Hailey frowns, ignoring the strong desire to cross her arms. Marta reads body language like a savant.
“He has a point. And you know I think you need to come with me to Uganda. Sure, it's not like hopping on a train in Prague, but do you really think you can exact the justice you desire from your snow castle?”
Hailey sighs in exasperation. “I'm really starting to hate this princess implication.”
“You're avoiding the question. You may be idealistic, but I think you are clever enough to put it to good use.”
“Thanks,” Hailey quips as she finishes the rest of her wine. “Maybe I'm not comfortable with the inherent danger involved and the associated risks.”
Eyebrows quirking, Marta shakes her head. “Then I think you signed up for the wrong program. Maybe you should go back home and work in something safe, like contract law. It’s less risky that way.”
Hailey exhales, irritated. She doesn't know why she's arguing. She knows she's going to end up going. Selling her family on the prospect has been quite the endeavor, however. Despite sounding completely earnest on the phone, she can’t help it when her concerns manifest in the most inopportune times.
Like in a pub on a Saturday night with an asshole and a realist who will both call her out.
A couple of days after Jude gets home from his trip, he heads over to Luke's. Luke had a medical appointment while Jude was away and he's concerned about the outcome.
“How was the doctor?”
“Carl? Ah, he was fine. Used to coach his football team when he was a boy.”
“Don't play dense,” Jude replies. “How did the visit go?”
“Fine fine. He just wants me to keep an eye on my blood pressure. He's going to switch me to a different medicine since I don't like the side effects of the current one.” Luke narrows his eyes at Jude. “Enough about me, tell me about your trip. How was that 'lady friend' of yours?”
Luke says lady friend like he doesn't believe in the existence of friendships between men and women. Sometimes Jude doesn't either.
“Good. She's doing great. Her roommates are very interesting. It was a fun visit,” Jude states matter-of-factly. “After we left London, Perry and I went to Amsterdam for a couple of days, then Brussels and over to Berlin. I think I gained five pounds from all the beer I drank.”
Luke nods, still scrutinizing Jude carefully. “What else happened? Met any women?”
“No, no. Perry has a girl he's been with for years and I... I wasn't really looking for that.”
“Ha!” Luke slams his hand on the table. “I knew it! You're more than 'just friends' with your lady friend, aren't you? Got a little crush on her?”
Jude shakes his head, the grin slipping off his face. “No, not a crush. That's... that's not how our relationship works.”
“Oh? Then how does it work?”
“It works by her traveling all over the world doing these amazing things while I stay at home, work at the station, and spend my afternoons drinking beer with you.”
Luke's eyebrows dart upwards at the brusque tone in Jude's voice. “What's on your mind?”
Jude shakes his head, rolling his eyes at nothing. “I just...” he exhales and turns to Luke. “I've known this girl most of my life. She's sacrificed a lot for our partnership, a lot. Granted, we've done amazing things together, but I feel like those days are past, and she's moving on without me.”
“How so?”
“She got this prestigious grant to do some research in London, which is why she was there. And then I get there and find out that she's going to Uganda to continue the research. Then she's going to come back and start doing her law degree. When does it end?”
Luke's eyes grow wide. He gets up from his seat and grabs two tumblers and a decanter of whiskey, pouring each of them generous helpings. When he returns to his seat, he lets out a long sigh.
“She sounds like an impressive woman. Then again, you're not bad either.”
“Yeah well, our spheres of influence are drastically different.”
“And you wonder where you fit into all this?”
Jude shrugs, taking a sip and relishing the burn. “It's not like this is news to me. I've known it was coming for a while. But mentally preparing myself and actually having it happen are two different things.”
They sit in silence for a few minutes, ruminating over Jude's predicament.
“I know this is something you don't want to hear, but it needs to be said,” Luke sighs as he sets down his glass. “Maybe this is the end of you two. Maybe you were never meant to go beyond what you already are to each other. Maybe... maybe it's time to move on.”
“Just sever ties with her completely? Never going to happen. It'd be easier to cut off my foot with a plastic spoon.”
“No, I'm not saying that. But you need to think about what role you imagined her having in your life and reduce it or switch it out with someone who's going to put a relationship with you first, or at the very least, someone who's going to be around.”
“That's what I'm afraid of.”
“Why, because you'll finally let her go and be happy?”
“Who says I'm not happy?”
“You're not happy, meathead,” that damn bird chirps from his perch behind Luke. Jude scowls then continues talking.
“But what if I move on, and then she's finally ready to be with me for good? It's not like this hasn't been an ongoing theme for us. Our timing has always been pretty shoddy.”
Luke contemplates this for a moment, lips forming a thin line. “I worked with a guy for twenty years who was in the same position as you. And I'll tell you now what I told him then: If she's the one for you, if she's truly the girl you're supposed to be with, then it'll work out some way or another. But don't put your life on hold just because she's out living hers.”
Jude frowns, polishing off the last of his whiskey. He needs to talk to Hailey. Soon. He stays with Luke on his back porch for another hour, getting a good buzz going. Just before he leaves, he turns to Luke and asks about his co-worker: “What'd he end up doing, that guy you told to move on?”
“He met someone else, married her, had three kids, eleven grandkids, and has spent the last thirty years with her living about a mile from here.”
Jude shakes his head and waves goodbye to Luke. He walks home just as the sun starts to set and decides to wait up until he knows Hailey will be awake so he can talk to her face to face.
Because that's what you do when you tell someone that you should stay friends. You tell it to their face.
“Wow, Jude, rough night?” Hailey smirks at him as she brushes her hair as she readies for class.
“Haha, very funny. No, Luke and I got into his whiskey. We sat around for a couple of hours.”
“Sounds like fun,” she replies as she searches for a hair tie, moving off-screen. “What's up?”
“So Marta told me you were going to Uganda instead of coming home for Christmas.”
Hailey freezes her search and turns to face him. “It hasn't even been authorized yet. Marta knew I was on the fence about this. I can't believe she said something.”
“It was an honest mistake,” Jude replies. “She assumed I actually understood your course of research and wanted to know my thoughts on it. Which... well… I didn't have.”
Arching her eyebrows, Hailey gives him a look, nonplussed. “All those times people asked what I was doing, and you never paid attention?”
Jude picks at the pillow beside him on his couch, feeling chastened. “To be honest, it's like white noise would fill my head anytime someone would ask about you. I knew what you were interested in. I just didn't quite... get it.”
Hailey watches as Jude stares off the screen, working his jaw before he continues to talk. “I don't know, what's so wrong with Spo
rts Psychology? I thought you loved it. You'd be great at it.”
“I think it's very helpful to a certain subset of people. It's incredibly valuable, and I enjoy it a lot. It's just… I spent almost a year back home doing a practicum in a women's shelter, Jude. I met these incredibly courageous, resilient women and children who've gone through so much. They've survived wars and being sold into the sex trade, they've lost their husbands and children, their homes - everything. It's insane.” Hailey shakes her head, amazed.
“I worked with a gentleman who used to be an investigator with the UN. Everything he shared about his experiences and all the work that still needs to be done - well, I felt drawn to this program in a way I never have before. I want to empower these women. I want to increase the number of recovery programs in existence for defected child soldiers. I want to help improve the standard of living for future generations.”
As she talks, Jude watches how passionate she gets, how her eyes light up, finally absorbing the words she's been saying for months. “So… when you said combined degree - I don't fully get what you're doing. I get that you're coming back for Law School, but...”
The Starting Line: Friends To Lovers Page 11