Stuck With Me: A With Me in Seattle Universe Novel

by Melissa Brown

  “You nervous, man?”

  “About proposing?”

  “No, about walking down this dangerous Seattle street.” I rolled my eyes as I teased him. “Of course about proposing. This is huge, dude!”

  “I know she’ll say yes.” He paused and I said nothing, knowing that in two-point-two seconds, he’d be in sheer panic.

  I’d walked this road before myself.

  Peter stopped walking. “Wait. She is going to say yes, right?”

  I patted him on the back and urged him forward with my hand. “Of course she is. She’s crazy about you.”

  “Lyra said the same thing. Okay, I can stop freaking out.”

  Just the mention of Lyra’s name made my muscles tense. I changed the subject. “Whether or not she says yes should not be your concern. How you ask is the important thing.”

  “I was thinking of taking her away next weekend. What do you think?”

  I nodded. “Sure, I like it. But you could also just do it at home…surprise her after work or something, a trail of rose petals waiting for her at the door. Put her own candles all over the damn place.”

  Once again, Peter stopped walking. “When’d you get so romantic?”

  “Shut up, dude. I’ve got a heart of gold, you know that.” I waved him away. “I can help you if you want.”

  Peter lit up like a damn Christmas tree. “That’d be awesome.”

  We approached our favorite coffee shop, and Peter’s expression changed as he opened the door. “Don’t be pissed, okay?”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  He looked away. “You’ll see in about ten seconds.”

  “Did you drop acid when I wasn’t looking, man?” I asked, walking into the coffee shop. The rich smells of caramel and dark roast coffee assaulted my senses in the best possible way. “What has gotten into you—”

  I stopped in my tracks as I saw Lyra siting at the nearest table, a styrofoam box in front of her.

  Peter patted me on the back. “I’m gonna grab a coffee and take off.”

  “Dude, you’re dead,” I muttered under my breath. “So dead.”

  Lyra wore a guilty smile on her face as she rose to her feet to greet me. “I come in peace,” she said softly. There was no doubt she looked impossibly gorgeous. Her hair was up in a messy bun and her deep red sweater warmed her already tan skin. She was fucking radiant, and it pissed me off.

  “Please sit, okay?” Lyra asked, sitting down. “I got you a caramel macchiato. Peter said it’s your favorite.”

  She slid the steaming cup toward the other side of the table. I stood behind the chair, unsure if I trusted myself to sit down and fall back into her web. “That was nice of you.”

  “Dev,” Lyra said, looking around the shop. “Please, five minutes. That’s all I need.”

  “Fine,” I said with a compliant sigh as I sat in the wooden seat. “What’s that?” I asked, nodding toward the styrofoam container under her hands. She pressed her lips together in a closed smile, sliding the box toward me. In large letters, it said, “TRUCE? -L”

  “Pancakes?” I raised one eyebrow, appreciating the gesture more than I wanted to admit.

  “With extra butter and syrup. I know how you like them soggy.”

  “But you didn’t bring any for you,” I said, looking at her empty spot.

  “I’m good. Eat, eat.”

  Opening the box, the rich smell of butter and flour mixed with the already incredible smell of the coffee shop. My stomach growled loudly, and Lyra laughed. She handed me a set of plastic silverware encased in a sleeve.

  “You didn’t have to do all this,” I said. “The coffee would have been enough.”

  “Just eat,” she said, scratching the side of her neck.

  After spreading the perfectly softened butter on the golden cakes, I drained each cup of syrup she’d included. “And if that’s not enough, I have more in my purse,” Lyra said, pulling a bottle of syrup from her bag.

  I couldn’t help but laugh before digging in. The first bite tickled my tongue as the flavors danced in my freaking mouth. “Holy crap, these are good.”

  “You like them?”

  “Um, yeah… Where did you get these? Because I need to eat there, like, every day.”

  Lyra chuckled. “I made them.”

  “No shit,” I said between bites, shocked that anyone could make pancakes this delicious at their home. “I had no idea you were such a good cook.”

  “My abuela taught me. If you think those are good, you should try my sopapillas.”

  “What are those?”

  “They’re these amazing fried pastries. I dip them in sugar and drizzle with honey. Heaven on Earth. And sometimes, when I’m really feeling ambitious, I make them with fresh horchata ice cream.”

  “My stomach just growled while I’m stuffing my face,” I joked. “That all sounds awesome, and I don’t even know what horchata is.”

  “It’s a rice drink with lots of cinnamon. I use raisins in the ice cream, too, for extra sweetness and texture. It’s my abuela’s secret recipe, but she gave it to me. Bypassed my mom, which made her flip.” Lyra laughed, and I watched as she lit up when she talked about cooking and her grandmother. There was even more to this woman than I realized and I felt my anger washing away with each bite of the rich, sweet pancakes.

  “So, as much as I enjoy hearing about your prowess in the kitchen, what’s this all about?”

  Lyra sat up straight, her expression serious. “I want a truce. A real one.”

  “Um, okay.”

  “I really screwed up in that elevator, and I know that. I’m really sorry for what I said, and I’m not going to try to justify it with any excuses. What’s done is done, and all I can do is own it and give you a sincere apology.”

  “Wow. Thanks.” I took another bite.

  “But,” she said, raising one sexy eyebrow. God, I wanted to rip off all her clothes, even though I sensed she was about to put me in my place. “You need to take some ownership of some of the shit that went down too.”

  “Such as?” I asked, being deliberately difficult. I wanted to see where she was going.

  “The whole hand thing… and Sheila…” She tilted her head forward, waiting for my acknowledgment.

  “Sure, okay. Yeah, I may have had some shit moments too.”

  Lyra shook her head. “I guess that’s all the apology I’m gonna get, huh?”

  “I’m not the best at those.” I shrugged. “But I’ll honor your request. I’ll give you your truce.”

  “Thank you,” she said, looking only partially satisfied with my response. Part of me wanted to give her more than that, to take her hand again and ask to go back to that moment siting at the coffee table. To tell her about ending things with Trupti and how badly I wanted to get close enough to smell her, to kiss and taste her lips for the first time now that I was free to do it. There was so much I wanted to say to Lyra, but instead, I just took another bite of my pancakes.

  “Friends?” she asked before taking a sip of her drink. I leaned forward and wiped the tiniest bit of foam from her perfectly sculpted nose. She sucked in her breath just a bit at my touch, and a feeling of satisfaction swept through me. Her cheeks reddened, and she licked her lips tentatively as our eyes locked.

  Friends, my ass.

  “Friends,” I said with a nod. My phone buzzed in my pocket.

  “Sorry. I gotta take this; it’s work.”

  “Sure,” Lyra said with a smile.

  “Yeah,” I said into the phone, walking outside so I could hear the associate calling from Australia. Of course there was a crisis, and I couldn’t handle it at the coffee shop. I had to get back to my apartment in order to tackle it. But I wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye to Lyra.

  I knew I wanted to spend as much time with Lyra as I possibly could, and Peter’s proposal plans could really work in my favor. To jump back in now full force might scare her away, so I needed to be smart, calculated, patient.
I walked back into the coffee shop and smiled.

  “So, now that we’re friends and all, I could use your help with something.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Well, we both know about Peter and Maren. He told me you’re helping him with the ring. And we both know she’ll say yes.”

  “Oh totally,” she said, taking another sip of her drink. I was sad to see no foam this time on her nose.

  “So, I was thinking… I want to throw them an engagement party. Nothing major, just friends and stuff at his favorite bar.”

  “Wait, your Monday night football place?” Her tone was dismissive.

  “Yeah,” I sat back, feeling defensive. “What’s wrong with that place?”

  She took a deep breath. “Nothing, it’s just… Shouldn’t it be for both of them?”

  “Look, I’m happy to bankroll this whole thing, so maybe you can be a little flexible here? Pete loves that place, and so do I. And as much as I love little Mare, I don’t think she’ll really care, do you?”

  “Fine, you’re right. She’d be happy just to see everyone.” She gave me a fake dirty look. She hated when I was right. “So what do you need me for then?”

  “Basically everything else,” I said with a laugh. “I’m just playing. We’ll do it together. Guest list, decorations, food, all that stuff.”

  “We should probably wait until they’re actually engaged…”

  “Is that a yes?” I asked, leaning forward and leaning my elbows on the table, giving her puppy-dog eyes. She laughed, which was my goal.

  Lyra laughed with her entire body, and I loved it. I loved watching her shoulders shake and her head tilt back. Sometimes she even tapped her feet.

  “Fine, yes. I’ll do it…for Maren.”

  “And Pete.”

  “Yes, of course. Can’t forget him.” Her expression turned pensive, and she looked off to the side, breaking eye contact, a somewhat dreamy smile on her face. “They really are good together.”

  “Yes, they are,” I said, popping the last bit of pancakes into my mouth. “Lucky bastards.”

  And then Lyra laughed again. This time with her whole body. I even heard her toes tap against the tile.

  And just like that, the funk I’d been in for weeks lifted. I felt lighter, calmer.

  I felt happy.

  Chapter 14

  LYRA

  A week after peace was formed with Dev over coffee and homemade truce pancakes, I was meeting Maren for our Sunday morning yoga class. I hadn’t heard anything more from Peter about his plans to propose, so I was all too curious when she walked through the door. No, she glided through the door with a dreamy expression on her face.

  “Someone got laid last night,” I said, joking, wondering if there was more to that smile than just a satisfying orgasm.

  Maren laughed, holding her yoga mat tightly to her chest, her hand on full display. And on that hand was a big, shiny, sparkling diamond solitaire ring on a platinum band. Almost exactly like the one I’d sent to Peter. It was gorgeous.

  “Oh my God, Mare! Congratulations!” I pulled her into a tight hug, and she exhaled deeply.

  “Thank you, and thank you for helping him with the ring. It’s perfect.”

  “My pleasure! But when did this happen, and why didn’t you call me?” I asked, half joking as I dramatically placed both hands on my hips.

  “Because I’m a dork and I wanted to see if you’d notice the ring,” she said with a shrug. “And he just did it last night. Moira, my sister, is in town, so I met her for a drink after I closed the shop for the day. I was a little annoyed with Peter for not going with me… That is, until I got home.”

  Maren pulled out her phone and started scrolling. “Look at what he did! Did you know about all this?”

  I watched in awe as she scrolled. Peter had created a glowing trail of candles, flowers, and rose petals that led to their backyard. Their fire pit was burning brightly, and the lights they usually hung above their patio in the summertime glowed against the darkened winter sky.

  “He was waiting by the fire pit. The house smelled amazing—he used all of my winter scents, cranberry, pine, all of them.”

  “That’s so romantic, Mare. And so perfect for you. Nicely done, McTavish.”

  “Dev helped him. I couldn’t believe it.”

  “Wait, what?” I asked, taken aback that Dev would have his hand in anything other than the party we were going to plan.

  “Yeah, I guess Peter was going to take me out of town, propose in a restaurant, but Dev came up with the candles and the flowers and proposing at home. He told Peter that our home was significant, and it’s where our future should begin. Officially.”

  Whoa.

  “Holy shit,” I blurted, staring through Maren.

  “I know!” she exclaimed with a giddy laugh.

  My mouth went dry as I struggled to swallow and take in this side of Dev.

  “Give me that,” I said finally, grabbing her phone and scrolling once again through the pictures, my mouth agape as I processed the fact that Dev was behind it all. “Dev did this? Dev Modi?”

  “Yep, who knew he was such a romantic at heart, huh?”

  “Not me,” I said, feeling myself getting a little flushed.

  “Lyra,” Maren said, taking her phone back and narrowing her eyes in suspicion. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

  “Nothing, oh my God, seriously, nothing,” I said, waving her way. “No, no, no, no, no.”

  “Right,” Maren said, raising her eyebrows high. “Well, I was asked to keep this to myself, but of course I’m going to tell you.”

  I rolled my eyes, waving away any discretion that she may have been tempted to keep. That wasn’t our style. We told each other everything but kept all revealed secrets between us.

  “We have no boundaries.”

  “Exactly.”

  “So, what is it?”

  “Dev broke up with Trupti,” she said with optimistic doe eyes.

  “What? When?” I asked, my heart pounding hard as adrenaline shot through my belly.

  “Right after the ski trip. I guess he drove straight to her apartment and ended it.”

  “Holy shit.”

  “Yeah, I know. Timing is…interesting, to say the least.”

  “Not necessarily,” I said, trying to wrap my mind around all of that information. “I mean, if it had anything to do with me, don’t you think I would have heard from him? I was the one who had to reach out and that was weeks after they broke up. Maybe they were having all kinds of problems.”

  “They were,” Maren said with a nod. “But still, I think it’s telling. And you said yourself he was pissed at you for what you said in the elevator. Maybe he was just cooling off and wasn’t ready to talk to you yet. He accepted your apology, right?”

  “Yeah,” I said, still feeling a little overwhelmed. “He did.”

  “Well, anyway, I just thought you should know. Take that information for whatever it’s worth. You know where I stand.”

  I laughed. “I think we all do.”

  “Maybe not Dev. I never wanted to get his hopes up.”

  “But with Peter and me for sure. You’ve made yourself very clear.”

  “Indeed,” she said with a laugh. “C’mon, class is starting.”

  “Coffee after? We can stop and get some bridal magazines. It’s time to plan.”

  “I would love that.” Maren smiled so wide. She was glowing, and it made me so happy. “That could take a while. Got any lunch plans?”

  “I do now.”

  Later that day, after we’d spent hours paging through the magazines as we devoured Cobb salads at our favorite cafe near Maren’s shop, I made my way back to my apartment. Just as I was putting my key in the lock, my phone pinged with a text. I glanced down and saw Dev’s name, disturbed by how excited it made me to see his name on my phone.

  Get a grip, Lyra. You couldn’t stand the man just a month ago.

  After putting
all of my things down on my kitchen counter, I allowed myself to read the full message.

  -Yo. Party time! Let’s get to it.

  I waited fifteen minutes before responding. Yes, I was that girl.

  -Well, you don’t waste any time. They just got engaged last night.

  -I’m aware. Meet me tomorrow at the bar?

  -Are you sure you want to have it there? I mean…I hear the public works building might be available.

  I couldn’t resist. First, he sent the staring emoji with huge eyes and I laughed to myself, knowing I was already driving him crazy.

  -You’re hilarious. Seriously, though. 8:00?

  -Sure, I’ll be there. Do they know we’re planning this for them?

  -Not yet.

  -Don’t you think we should probably talk to them first? Make sure we’re all on the same page.

  -Lyra. Stop it. The location isn’t going to change and I know they’re going to love it. Don’t make me take you off the project.

  -Well, we can’t have that.

  -So are you going to play nice?

  I took a deep breath before replying. I was tired of being polite, I wanted to push things forward, even if just a tiny bit.

  -If you’re lucky.

  Dev didn’t respond right away. The three little dots bounced, then stopped, then bounced again.

  -Okay, Khaleesi…

  A wide smile stretched across my face as I read that word aloud softly to myself. I had no real idea what a Khaleesi was, but when Dev called me that name, I became putty in his hands.

  -I really need to Google that word.

  -Or just watch the BEST SHOW EVER ON TELEVISION.

  -Ugh. Too many hours to invest.

  -Or you’re just a wimp and can’t handle the occasional decapitation or…ahem, castration.

  -Um, no, I have a stomach of steel. Almost nothing grosses me out. But I can never follow those fantasy shows. And I’ve heard this one has an enormous cast. I’d need to take notes just to keep up.