I had been trying to get over the crush I’d had on Jude since the sixth grade for the past two years. I thought I had. I’d done so well in London. I’d dated a lot, though it’s not as if I’d just sat around pining after Jude my whole life to begin with. But I’d grown. I’d begun to feel like maybe I could imagine a life that didn’t have Jude by my side and I’d even made myself believe that.
It was only now as he gave me his charming smile and grabbed his coffee that I felt so perfectly at home and also like I would never truly be over Jude.
It was foolish of me and I knew that. We’d just never had that kind of relationship and I knew very well he’d never thought of me that way. We’d fooled around a few times even. But nothing had ever come of it. I knew it was because I just wasn’t in his brain in that capacity. It made me want to call Eddie Didion on the spot and beg for a date. I needed to force myself to grow beyond Jude. I hated the thought that I’d been crazy about him this whole time with no hope in sight.
But that was my problem. What I wanted to know was what Jude’s problem was. He did get stuck in sad periods sometimes. I don’t think he’d ever truly gotten over his mother’s death. I wondered if it had something to do with that. He’d been seventeen at the time. That made it years since but it didn’t seem like that long. I’m sure it didn’t to him either.
“Talk to me,” I said, kicking him. “What’s wrong? I know it’s something.”
“Just...sometimes I think I disappoint myself as much as I disappoint the old man,” Jude said. It made me want to cry and yet he’d smiled as he said it.
“No,” I murmured. I wrapped him in a hug, being careful of his coffee and he held me there for a long moment, tightly. I’d missed this. I missed long hugs. Sometimes we even snuggled on the couch. Moments like that had made me think there was something more between us. But that had always been a pipe dream. I knew Jude as well as I knew anyone. He loved me. I was sure of that. But not in that passionate, romantic, full way I wanted. If I’d ever asked him to marry me, I think he’d even say yes if he thought I wanted that. Which I did. But I wanted him to want it too. He never would.
But I wasn’t going to pine, dammit. I was too old now for pining.
“Is your dad being worse than usual?” I said, trying to coax things out of him. I leaned back and I couldn’t help looking up at him with sad eyes. I found it hard to just go on with everyday life when Jude was unhappy. He’d once told me the same thing. We were too close. There had been times in London when I’d been horribly distracted only to end up texting with Jude and find out he was unhappy about something. We’d always had that kind of connection.
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“You’re not a disappointment,” I said softly, still leaning closely against him as we sipped our coffees. “Not to me. Don’t let him get in your head.”
“It’s not just that, I…” He stopped and shook his head.
“What?” I nudged him with my elbow and he shook his head.
“I’m just drunk. Tell me about London? Did you have to deal with working for any tabloids? They’re really brutal over there.”
“You’re trying to distract me,” I said. “But I know that means you really don’t want to talk right now. So we can talk about London.”
We talked about London and then he told me about his work with the hospital kids that he kept getting more involved in. He’d brought some star athletes over to visit them, and his program was even beginning to branch out to other hospitals. It killed me that he did that kind of work all the time and was so dismissive of it. It was his dad in his head. I knew that and it pissed me off.
After we drank our coffee, I patched up his forehead. We’d always done that for each other after all.
I hung out with Jude until he was a little more sobered up. It wasn’t exactly necessary, but I’d missed him so much and besides that, Jude was always sort of funny as booze wore off. He got all mumbly and sleepy and kept apologizing.
By the time I get home, it was two in the morning. But as I let myself into my parent’s place I found myself frowning, still stuck on the source of Jude’s melancholy. I hated how he’d talked about himself. I’d always figured that Jude just needed more time than some to figure out his path in life. Lots of people were like that. He happened to be privileged enough that he didn’t have to worry about money and when he did figure out what he wanted to do, all roads would be open to him, for the most part. But his dad could be such a dick and I knew that was partly about his mother.
Jude’s mother had died in a car wreck. Jude had been in the car at the time. It was a mechanical function. Jude’s father liked to point out that it had not been a Fairchild car, as if that was somehow important. Jude was badly hurt and when he woke up in the hospital, he got to hear that his mother had died beside him. He’d been driving at the time. I’d never been able to convince him that it was not his fault, neither could the accident report or the proof that it was the car and not the driver. He simply wouldn’t believe it. But what was worse was that his father seemed to agree. Their already rocky relationship had never been the same. Just when Jude had needed his father most and at a traumatic time of his life, his father was coldly turning against him.
It was all I could think about as I fell asleep. I’d hoped to come home to Jude flourishing, but he had seemed so dejected tonight. I wanted to get to the bottom of it. I also needed to ignore my own dumb long unrequited feelings and focus on my own future.
I finally passed out in my bed at three o’clock. I’d have just enough time for some solid sleep before I had to meet that editor for lunch. The thought filled me with excitement even as I dropped off into dreams.
In the morning, however, I woke up earlier than I needed to. I actually tried to sleep in, worried that I’d be groggy for my important business lunch. But there was nothing doing. It was only eight so I’d slept just five hours, but I was wide awake now. On the bright side, it gave me time to drive out to the water and fly around for a bit. I’d become used to the London skies for flying and stretching my dragon legs, but it was nice to be in New York again.
Knock em’ dead!
The text came from Jude. He was doubtless just now rolling out of bed as I stepped out of the car and made my way into the restaurant to meet Scott, the editor of Make, an online lifestyle magazine that was considered pretty prestigious. Apparently Scott had been impressed with my work in London. I’d just written a variety of pieces for different venues as part of my fellowship. It had given me a real leg up.
Trust Jude to remember and send me a nice text. It made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside and I smiled to myself as I made my way to the table on the patio where Scott was waiting. He was a fox shifter apparently. I didn’t know other shifter scents. But it was something I’d heard in my shifter circle. It was always sort of nice when you found out somebody you were working with who was a shifter. There was an unspoken understanding between you suddenly.
“Sierra!” Scott waved from his table and motioned me over. There were the usual meaningless pleasantries, and we ordered our food and finally things got down to business.
I had to clench my fists under the table to quell my nerves. I’d had a few meetings like this in London but I still felt like some kid pretending to be an adult when I talked to editors or even other writers. My hope was to write lifestyle and cultural pieces and make a name for myself. I was on the right track according to my advisors on my fellowship. The only time I ever got really discouraged was when I talked to my parents about my career aspirations. They both seemed to treat the whole thing like it was a lark, a petty little hobby I was into before I took my rightful place as mate to some wealthy shifter. If I didn’t have to work, why would I? Weirdly, nobody ever said that to male dragons even when they were more than rich enough to retire.
“Aren’t you friends with Jude Fairchild?” Scott said, dabbing his lips.
My ears perked up. This did come up from time to time. I didn’t
mind it. Jude was my oldest, dearest friend. When people asked about him, I was happy to talk him up. When they were snarky about him, dismissing him as some empty-headed, rich bad boy, I went into protective kill mode.
“That’s right.” I took a sip of my iced tea and felt a little edgy suddenly. Scott hadn’t gotten around to what kind of piece he had in mind for me yet. I’d pitched him a few things because that’s how things usually went but he kept hedging. “I’ve known him since we were kids. I just saw him last night.”
“I think you should write a piece about Jude,” Scott said. He smiled, and it wasn’t sly and I didn’t sense anything nefarious in his intent. But I wasn’t sure how to feel about the idea. Usually you didn’t want to be writing about someone you were so close to.
“Kind of...conflict of interest, no?” I said, stating the obvious.
“It wouldn’t be that kind of piece,” Scott said. “It would be something more personal. About you as much as about Jude. You know, our online magazine is popular in human circles but it’s especially popular among shifter circles. Not just in New York but around the whole country. Anyone that follows big name shifters knows who Jude Fairchild is. He’s kind of a hot name. And he’s interesting… Troubled relationship with his father, lots of potential but what is he doing with it? One of those people who always gets invited to the Met Gala…”
“I’m not going to write a hit piece about my best friend,” I said, fiercely. I wasn’t angry but I could become angry very quickly if that’s where this was going to go.
“I’m not asking for a hit piece,” Scott said sternly. “I’m asking for a story about Jude, the story of your friendship, what he’s up to nowadays… Maybe some memories about the two of you getting into trouble as kids? Something personal! Our readership would love it.”
I licked my lips and sat back in my seat. If the piece was going to be about the two of us, it did make me a little nervous. But then again, I wasn’t about to not do something because it made me nervous. “I’ll have to talk to him about it. You know, I really wasn’t thinking I’d ever be writing about myself.”
“I think you have a lot to say,” Scott said. “And our readers would be interested to hear it. Let me know in a couple days, alright?’
“I will.” The rest of lunch passed more lightly, and I thought I acquitted myself pretty well.
The second my meeting with Scott ended, I texted Jude. Even if things with him hadn’t fallen exactly back into place yet, it made me happy that my very first instinct was to tell him the meeting had gone well.
Meeting was great! I have to talk to you. ;-)
Jude responded immediately with a thumbs up and several other exuberant emojis. It was the kind of ambiguous kind of reply he was always giving. It probably meant he was busy, but he’d get back to me about meeting up.
I was wearing fairly comfortable shoes, and I decided to walk home from the lunch. I’d missed New York when I’d been away. The weather here has been too warm and a little sticky since my return but just now it felt a little cooler so I found myself strolling leisurely all the way home which was a few miles.
I was in a great mood as I let myself in and when I once again saw Eddie Didion with my parents in our sitting room, I immediately tensed up. It wasn’t that I didn’t like Eddie. I actually did. I just wasn’t sure what I wanted with him and I felt like I was being rushed. I didn’t much like coming home to find him there waiting for me so often unannounced either. We’d emailed back and forth but it had been so casual. I hadn’t promised him anything.
“Hi,” I said, a little cooly as I walked in. I was stiff, still clutching my purse. I’d planned to go upstairs and scribble some ideas for this piece with Jude before I talked to him. But I was pretty sure a wrench was about to be thrown into my plans.
“Hello there, beautiful,” Eddie said, tossing me a wink. He stood to kiss me on the cheek and I let him. He could be a bit charming. He was definitely charming my parents anyway. “I came by to say hello. Thought we might get a drink or dinner later?”
I opened my mouth and had no idea how to answer. Eddie was everything a mate should be on paper. There was no reason not to give him a chance.
Except Jude.
I glanced over at my mother and she was giving me that pleading kind of look that meant I might be ruining my life if I didn’t give this a chance.
“Um…” I cleared my throat and whipped out my phone. Jude hadn’t texted back yet. I’d sent him another message asking when he wanted to hang out but nothing.
Are you going to wait your entire life for Jude Fairchild?
“Okay, yeah,” I said, nodding.
“Fantastic.” Eddie said, and reached down to squeeze my hand.
“I’m just going to freshen up first though,” I said. I could hardly look at my parents. They seemed absurdly overjoyed that I was getting a drink with Eddie Didion.
It was only as I climbed the stairs to my room that it occurred to me that maybe the reason Eddie Didion seemed overly attentive was because I’d grown up with Jude, who could be a little flaky and even distant sometimes. Whenever I’d really needed him, he has always been there for me. I think I was the only person on earth who could say that about Jude Fairchild. But he wasn’t one to wait around for you. Jude moved fast and if you looked away for a moment, he would be gone. Eddie wouldn’t be gone. Eddie was going to hang around until I finally gave him the time of day. Maybe that was good for me. It was nice to be chased after all. Jude was never going to chase me. Jude might chase every woman on earth except for me. But that was okay. We were friends, the best of friends. I would never want to lose that.
Jude, when can you meet? I have to talk to you.
By the time I came back from an early dinner with Eddie, Jude had still not replied.
It was time for me to move on. I couldn’t keep pining for Jude my whole life.
Chapter Five: Jude
I felt like such an ass when I woke up the next morning. I’d acted just like the misbehaving little punk my dad liked to think I was. It was like I’d walked right into his trap. I rolled out of bed and remembered climbing out of the pool at the hotel, soaking wet, all those important people my father wanted to impress looking at me like I was an idiot. My father had been so angry and yet it was exactly what he expected of me. Sometimes I thought he was almost relieved when I pulled some stunt. It meant I was right in the little box he liked to stick me into and never capable of climbing out of it. Trust me to meet his expectations exactly.
But the worst part was that Sierra was clearly moving on with her life. She was accomplished, and she had further aspirations for something more than goofing around on the race track and getting drunk at important parties. How had I ever thought I was worthy of a woman like her? I knew her better than anyone and I knew I didn’t deserve Sierra.
I couldn’t help brooding about this into the afternoon. Having nothing to do, I decided to visit one of the kid’s wards in one of the hospitals my charity program serviced. I wasn’t under allusions that sick little kids would be excited about me in particular unless I’d already taken them down to the track, but I’d become friendly with nurses and doctors in the kid’s wards. I already knew that the children perked up just having someone new visit them and I always bought some toys with me which was definitely the real draw.
“Jude!” Nurse Evelyn greeted me in the quieter part of the children’s ward at Manhattan Memorial Hospital. I’d taken some of the kids there to the track and brought around a few celebrities I had connections with. I felt at home there just popping in with a bag full of goodies to brighten up some patient’s afternoons. “It’s so good to see you! We didn’t expect you today.”
Nurse Evelyn was a bear shifter. We’d actually had drinks once. We’d actually fooled around once but it hadn’t gone any farther than that. I’d actually asked her out. She’d reminded me a little Sierra. But Evelyn had only laughed and said this shouldn’t go further than a one-night-stand because �
�she knew how I was.” It hadn’t made me feel great. Though it’s possible when she’d told me that I had heard Sierra saying it and not Evelyn.
“I had a free afternoon,” I said, shrugging. The toys I had bought from a personal shopper. I kept them on hand just in case I decided to make a visit and now I carried them over my shoulder in a giant duffle. “Is it a good day for this?”
“Yes…” Evelyn nodded. I was leaning on the unit clerk’s desk in the middle of the quiet ward. The place housed the kids who were doing the worst. It could be very rough and it still got to me. Evelyn was a cute redhead with little freckles across her nose. She always wore colorful scrubs with animals on them to cheer up the kids but now as she looked at me, I could see how sad she was. “Today would be good. We lost a couple kids…” She cleared her throat, and I felt my heart sink. It was obviously inevitable in this place but it was never easy to hear about. She told me about the kids who had recently died. I had met them before and it made me feel sick but I took a deep breath and sucked it up.
“Okay.” I nodded firmly. “Good to know. Let’s make some smiles, huh?”
There was a group of kids in the playroom. It was always a little bracing to walk into the big brightly painted room that had fairytale scenes depicted on the walls and toys and kid furniture and seeing children in hospital gowns hooked up to IVs or bald from chemo. But I was a little more used to it these days.
“Jude!” A little boy named Isaac saw me and waved and I grinned.
“Hey, guys!” I said. “So it’s Christmas in June today!”
The next hour went well enough. It was shallow, probably, to think I could make them truly feel better with some toys. But I knew what my job was. I wasn’t the person who could help them come to terms with death or anything like that. I was just bringing them a little bit of joy on a dark day. Sometimes after one of these visits, I had to go flying to make myself feel better but other times it still got to me and I’d end up brooding and shedding a few tears for kids who didn’t deserve the shitty hand they’d been dealt.
Alpha Dragon's Second Chance Page 4