by Stacey Lynn
She chokes on a laugh, shaking her head. “What?”
“Weed. You know. It relaxes people. Isn’t it legal here now anyway?” I snap my fingers. “I know. Paul!” He works at Dirty’s and he’s always high. Maybe he’ll be there tonight.
Teagan presses the champagne glass to my palm, curling my fingers around the stem like I’m a doll with movable pieces. “You don’t need drugs, honey. You need to grow some lady balls and finally admit you’re in love with Jonas. It’s not scary, it’s wonderful. Trust me.”
She’s dead freaking wrong. There is nothing wonderful about this knot in my stomach or the way my veins are pulled so tight I’m at risk of damaging ligaments in my entire body. Oh my God. I could just snap into a thousand pieces on my way there, and then what will happen?
Here lies Caitlin…exploded from the stress of falling for a guy who might not want her. Maybe someone will memorialize the sidewalk I splatter onto to serve as a warning to other lovesick fools.
One of Teagan’s hands moves to my shoulder, and she turns me to face her. Her other hand presses against the bottom of my glass, and she pushes it until the rim is almost at my mouth. She looks like one of the many nannies I had when I was home sick with the flu. The wariness and patience as she forced me to take my medicine.
Champagne has alcohol. Alcohol has medicinal properties. Right. I take a sip.
The bubbles fizz in my mouth and down my throat. Teagan eyes me with a playful grin on her face, blinking slowly, and biting her lip as I swallow.
“I’m amusing you,” I say.
“I have to admit, seeing you like this is kind of funny.”
“What if I’ve read him wrong, Teagan?”
One of her shoulders lifts and falls. “Then you know and you can move on, but I like this. I like him for you, and I don’t think you’ll be disappointed at all. But I’m proud of you. You guys have been dancing around this for years, and you’ve already hurt him. He might make you work for it, but I can promise you, promise you, that loving someone? It’s totally worth the work it takes to get on the same page.”
The morning before Teagan met Corbin, she’d walked in on her longtime boyfriend having sex with his boss’s daughter. Her story is another reason why I’ve avoided relationships. Why give your heart to someone just to have them yank it out of your chest and stomp all over it? Although by the end of the day, Teagan was living with Corbin, and she hasn’t stopped smiling since.
Maybe I need to start reexamining my view of relationships and looking at them through the lenses of people who are actually happy and faithful.
Ugh. Mind-blowing shifts in life perspectives are a pain in the butt.
She brushes her hand down the sleeve of my bell sleeve sweater and squeezes my hand. “Do you love him?”
The simple question sparks fear, zinging through my body. I squeeze her hand back.
Do I? I like him. Yeah. I want to go back to what we had but more. I miss him.
And hell, it’s killed me not being able to have Jonas for the last six months, and it’s not the sexy nights and mornings and afternoons I miss the most. It’s all the stuff that came in between. The cuddling. The way he’d slide his fingers through my hair when we were in bed at night. The scent of him on my pillow, or the way he’d always pull me close to him on the couch, draping a blanket over me before taking what was left for his own lap. How he somehow knew my favorite foods without me even telling him, and how his mere presence, that moment he’d walk into my apartment or open the door to his, would just feel so damn good.
“Yeah.” I nod. Tears are making my vision blurry. “I think I do.”
“Admitting it is the first step.” Her face loses all humor.
“To what? Solving my problem?” I’m joking. Sort of. None of this feels good.
“No. It’s the first step to happiness, and there isn’t a single woman I know who’s had to fight for it more than you.” She claps her hand and steps back, waving her arms out gesturing to the mess. “Now you’re going to have that drink, go finish up your makeup, and I’ll clean up this disaster.”
I do as I’m told and take another sip of my favorite champagne. She’s right, the alcohol is helping.
Or maybe it’s just that Teagan is so damn wise and I’m finally listening to people who know what they’re talking about. Perhaps I should try it more often.
Eh. We’ll see how this goes.
“I love you, Teagan.”
“I love you too, shrimp. Now, are you sure that’s what you’re going to wear, or do you need to ransack your floor again?”
The emerald sweater dress is one of my favorites. With a loose cowl-neck top and bell sleeves, it’ll surely keep me warm and comfortable, but the color is perfect for my eyes and hair. More than once Jonas has said he loves seeing me in green. “Yeah. Unless you think it’s too much?”
Teagan’s smile confirms my own thoughts, and I don’t need her approval but she gives it anyway. “It’s perfect. Now go, scoot. I’ll go get the champagne, and then I’ll clean while you tell me what you’re going to say to him.”
“Say to him?”
Oh God, I’ve spent so much time gathering my nerve to tell him I want to date him, I haven’t given any thought to the actual words. I’ve been too busy trying to find my damn courage, which I know has to be hiding somewhere in this apartment.
“Forget it,” Teagan says. She shakes her head and heads out of the room. “You do you, girl. I’m getting the champagne.”
You do you. I’ve lived on my own without anyone besides Trey and Corbin helping me figure out how to adult. I don’t even know what she means. But I do know that whatever it is, something attracted to Jonas to me in the first place, years ago, so I can’t have too much to worry about, right?
I mean, I’m sure I’ll figure it out when I see him, and as long as the words “I love you” are included, is there anything else I need to say?
Oh goodness. I’m totally going to screw this up somehow. I know it.
Chapter 21
Caitlin
Something feels off as I turn the corner and Dirty Martini’s comes into view. I’m a few minutes late, despite my incessant need to be on time or a few minutes early to all meetings, but spending time with Teagan beforehand was necessary.
I take in the sidewalk outside Dirty’s, and peer into the restaurant as I get closer, and jolt. The blinds have been closed. There’s not a single person outside waiting to get in or leaving. There’s a silent, eerie feeling as I head to the door. I’ve never seen the blinds closed before: not even when Jonas shuts down at night has he closed them. The only time any of the windows are darkened is when the sun is shining and the table in front wants the sun to stop shining in their faces. But the sun has almost completely set and the moon is already high in the sky, shining brightly and giving off its own strange glow.
I shiver and come to a stop as the door to the restaurant swings open.
Expecting to see customers exiting, I’m more surprised when it’s Tucker at the door.
“You’re late,” he says, grinning, and steps outside to hold the door open for me. “Thought maybe you were going to punk out on him.”
“What?” I tug my coat tighter. This is strange. Epically weird. “What’s going on?”
He wiggles his brow and tips his head inside. “You’ll see. Head on in. There’s something on the bar for you.”
He’s grinning, and as friendly as Tucker is, as much fun as I have hanging with him when he’s behind the bar, this isn’t right. A cooling sensation prickles the back of my neck and slides down my spine. “You’re being strange.”
“Trust me, Caitlin. You’ll want to come in.” He steps back, pushing the door open even further, and holds out his arm, waiting for me to precede him.
I give him a look, my brows tugging in tighter, and hesitantly step forward.
As soon as I turn the corner of the door and enter, my eyes almost can’t take in everything in front of me.
The sound of the door locking grabs my attention, and I swivel. “What are you doing?”
Tucker pockets the keys to the restaurant. “Leaving. I’ll let Jonas explain the rest. Don’t forget your gift at the bar.”
He heads through the restaurant toward the kitchen, and it’s several moments before I can move. Or breathe. Or close my mouth.
Christmas lights have been strung over the entirety of the ceiling of Dirty’s. On every single table are vases of beautiful white and red and pink roses. There must be hundreds of them, and the aroma is so overwhelming, I can’t breathe it in deep enough.
“What the hell?” I mutter. On the bar, petals are scattered. Candles float inside vases. The Christmas lights and candles are the only thing giving off light except the glow coming from the back hallway and kitchen. Through the speakers, soft music plays, sweeter and gentler than anything I’ve heard before, but I can’t place who it is. I just know that with every breath I take, my heart rate is speeding and yet my muscles are relaxing.
Jonas.
Where is he?
He’s waiting for me to do something. Or at least I hope this is for me. And tears are already forming again. If he’s done this for me, shut down Dirty’s and spent what’s had to be hours decorating it for me, then I truly have nothing to be afraid of except the fear that comes from my own insecurities.
Remembering what Tucker said, I head to the bar. My hands run the length of it, and I pick up petals here and there, bringing them to my nose and sniffing before dropping them to the floor. At the far end, I find a small book set on the counter.
Don’t fault the joke book I’ve had for years.
I reach for the book, my hands trembling, my skin tingling. It can’t be. He can’t be.
But the book tells it all. The upper right corner is peeling. The edges are frayed. The inside pages are wavy, and there’s a small brown stain at the bottom of the spine. On the cover, Luke Skywalker and Han Solo are in fighting stance, Han with his gun out, Luke with his lightsaber in the air, and above the two cartoony figures is the title: The Best Star Wars Joke Book.
“Oh God.” My fingers go to my mouth, and I clutch the book.
Michael is Jonas? Jonas pretended to be someone to talk to me? I hadn’t even considered him dating anyone using the app. It’s hurt too much the few times the thought popped into my mind so I kicked it right back out. Even when we got together that night, the night I was stood up…
“Except I wasn’t stood up at all.” I sniff and drop the book, unable to help myself. When I was a kid and given a book, I always wrote my name in the cover. My full name.
My hands are still trembling as I fold back the cover, and on the inside, just like I knew would be there, scrawled in uneven and youthful writing, is what I knew I would see.
Jonas Michael Reeves.
Touch and Die.
A laugh bursts from my throat, and as tears begin falling, another note, this one with my name written on it, makes me catch my breath.
In a much more grown-up script, but still very much a man’s, are the words:
Check your phone.
Oh God. I drop the book to the bar, and I’m a fumbling mess, pulling my purse strap over my head. My hands shake so bad I can barely undo the zipper, and I almost drop my phone as I pull it out.
I press the home button, lighting up the screen. There’s a notification from the dating app. I swipe right, forgetting to enter my passcode. It takes three tries, and a teardrop falls onto my screen, screwing me up the fourth time.
Finally, I’m in my phone, opening up my message, and it takes less than a blink to read the text. It’s from Michael.
Turn around.
I spin on my heels, and my phone falls to the bar. My hand grabs the edge of it to steady myself, and my other hand flies to my mouth.
“You’re gorgeous,” Jonas says. He’s at the mouth of the hallway that leads to his office.
How long has he stood there? Watching me? I haven’t spoken. There are so many things to say, and all my thoughts have fled.
“Are you mad?” he asks and steps forward.
I’m already shaking my head. I can’t believe it’s been him the entire time. I can’t believe I didn’t notice, or put it together. But no, mad is not the emotion I’m feeling. Surprise, yes. A dash of guilt for not realizing before. More than a dash of guilt for not realizing so long ago that for me…it’s always been Jonas.
“You did this?” I finally ask, and I don’t know what I’m asking about. The restaurant. The app. The stupid book that has kept me laughing and making me think that the guy on the app somehow knew me. But he did…because he does, because the guy who I texted earlier, telling him I couldn’t meet him because I met someone else, is the very man standing in front of me.
“You did all of this for me?” I repeat, when he doesn’t answer.
Jonas is stunning. He’s dressed in a suit, and it’s so spectacular it takes me another minute to realize he’s moving forward, coming closer. I’m still frozen in shock at all he’s done, all he’s done for me, then he’s directly in front of me, pressing his warm palm to my cheek and lifting my head to meet him head-on, and saying, “I’d do anything for you, Caitlin. I love you.”
“Oh.” My knees buckle and he grins, reaching out to hold on to me as I stumble backward. “What?”
His head lowers. His hand at my cheek tilts me further, and then his lips are at my mouth, his breath against my cheek. “I love you, Caitlin.”
“I’ve hurt you.”
“You did. I’m willing to risk it again. I take it you’re not mad.”
I forgot he asked me that question. I shake my head. “No. No, I’m not mad. I came here tonight to tell you the same thing.”
His smile is blinding. The largest and freest I’ve ever seen him smile, and Jonas is always a happy guy. “Tell me what?”
I grip his hand at my cheek. My fingernails dig in. This is it. The moment I surrender. The moment I give away parts of myself I’ve never willingly done before. “I came tonight to tell you I love you.”
“Yeah?”
“It terrifies me.”
“I’m brave enough to see you through it.”
Tears run down my cheeks, and he leans in, kissing one away, and then another. I sniff. “I thought you moved on. Ashley. The app…”
I trail off. There’s so much to say. So many questions. So much time to ask them, but I’m impatient to get it all behind us.
“She and I were doomed to fail from the beginning. She was never and could never be you.”
“Jonas—”
I barely get his name out when his lips crash into mine, and I’m shocked by the suddenness of it, the passion and the way he kisses me so beautifully, I immediately open to him. And for the first time, I taste him, cling to him, and kiss him back without anything standing in between us. Without anything preventing us from being truly together.
He slows the kiss, and I’m on my toes, leaning into him, seeking more of him, and when his lips are against mine again, he’s smiling. “Tell me you love me again.”
“I love you.” It comes so naturally, so smoothly. There was no reason to be scared. I suppose when you give your heart to the right person, you know they can be trusted with it.
What Teagan said earlier now makes complete sense. Admitting it is the first step to happiness, because my body has never felt lighter. My spirit has never been more free than in this moment, and I want to protect it like a mama bear so nothing can move in and ruin it.
“I love you, too, Caitlin. I have for years.”
His admission sparks more tears, happy tears, sad tears, regretful tears that if I’d opened my eyes to see him so long ago, we wouldn’t have lost so much time together, and there’s still so much about me he doesn’t know.
�
��I have to tell you—”
“Not tonight,” he says, cutting me off. His thumb wipes tears off my cheeks, and he kisses my cheek. “We have all the time in the world for you to tell me whatever you want, but tonight is for us, for enjoying this moment.”
“Okay.”
Chapter 22
Jonas
She’s absolutely correct. We have so much to talk about, but the only thing I want to do tonight is seduce Caitlin in the way I’ve been wanting to do for years. Then sweep her into my arms and take her to my place for the night.
Her smile lights up the bar but her tears hold my attention.
“You need to stop crying.”
She laughs and swipes her cheeks. “My makeup is probably a disaster.”
“You’ve never looked more beautiful.” Because now she’s all mine, and already I can see how much she’s held back, and how much more she has to give.
She rolls her eyes and steps back, reaching for a napkin to dot beneath her eyes. The entire time she’s still smiling, shaking her head. Her gaze darts from the lights to the candles and back to me.
“I can’t believe you shut down the restaurant for me.” She shakes her head in the most adorably confused way.
It saddens me she doesn’t always realize she’s special and deserving of this and so much more. Thank God I have years to teach her. “You’re worth any cost.” To my bottom line, to my profit margin, to my heart and soul. She’s worth risking everything for.
“You say the sweetest things.”
I’m only getting started. Hearing her say she loves me makes me the luckiest guy in the world. I know how hard it is for her to admit it. I also know her well enough to know anything can still scare her away.
“I have dinner for us in the back. Would you like to grab a table and I’ll bring it out with some drinks?”
A deep red blush blooms on her cheeks, and her hands go to her coat, unbuttoning it. She smiles at me over her shoulder, and it shoots straight to my dick. “Dinner and drinks with you would be lovely.”
“A date.”
“Our first date,” she says, and her smile falters.