Since they didn’t have their phones, they were stuck without GPS. But that just meant they got to get lost wandering the side streets, looking for a route that would take them to up to the pedestrian walkway that crossed the Brooklyn Bridge.
He could see the lines in Jessie’s forehead every time they made a wrong turn. But when he squeezed her hand, she squeezed back, assuring him that she wasn’t about to lose her shit. Or if she was, she was making a superhuman effort not to.
“We have no place to be except right where we are,” he reminded her.
She smiled, relaxing into him. “And here is pretty freaking good.”
Amen.
When they finally found the stairs to the elevated walkway, he flushed with triumph. See? Totally not a fuck-up. The steel cables of the bridge crisscrossed up to the iconic stone towers rising above them. Across the bridge, the skyline of lower Manhattan beckoned like possibility itself. But Shawn had eyes only for Jessie, taking it all in.
“I’ve never been here,” she admitted, looking wide-eyed in every direction. “I mean, I’ve seen the bridge, obviously. But I’ve never walked across it.”
“And you’ve lived here how long?” he asked, taking her hand to pull her away from an oncoming cyclist—or, he could admit it, to pull her closer to him.
“I’ve been busy!” She paused. “But maybe you’re right. I haven’t taken advantage of being here the way that I could have. I just was so wrapped up in finishing school, then finding a job, trying not to suck at that job… I guess I forgot I was supposed to be living.”
“It’s okay,” he said, planting a kiss on her cheek. “You’ve got me to drag you away from your desk and remind you.”
She linked her arm in his. “Thanks,” she said. “I needed it.”
He couldn’t find the words to tell her how much that meant to him. Not just to be wanted—for a few hours, for a night, for a season until it was time to move on—but to be needed. To be reliable enough that someone could look to him to make her life better. Maybe he’d never been given the chance. Maybe he’d never taken it when he could have. Either way, Jessie was here, now, relying on him. Believing he was someone who could be depended on.
And there was Jean depending upon him, too, and Kevin, and he knew that just like with Jessie, he wasn’t going to let them down.
They strolled across the bridge, marveling at the view, and then wound their way up near City Hall and over to Chinatown, where they’d worked off enough of the ice cream to be ready for dumplings. He didn’t know where to go after that—he had no idea where he was, and the whole point was to not have a plan. But they found themselves browsing in a crowded shopping area with music blasting from the stores, then on narrow streets lined with cafes and jazz clubs and wine bars in basements, crowded in the middle of the afternoon.
In Washington Square Park, they sat on a park bench under a giant marble arch and watched kids and puppies splash in a fountain to cool off in the sun.
“I wish I could play like that,” Jessie said with a sigh.
“You could jump in there right now,” Shawn said. “I promise I won’t tell.”
“There’s such a thing as too crazy,” she reminded him.
But even though he assured her that she wasn’t anywhere near crossing that line, she just laughed. “I’m still me,” she reminded him. “If you want a girl who’s going to strip down and run around Washington Square Park being fun and spontaneous, you’d better find someone else.”
She said it with a laugh, but he could tell that underneath the lightness, there was something serious. He squeezed her hand. “I don’t want someone else. And you are fun,” he added before she could protest. “You’re kind, thoughtful, and you’re intentional about everything you do. Those aren’t bad qualities. And they’re not incompatible with being fun.”
“I always felt so boring,” she said, her eyes still on the kids shrieking in the fountain. “Being friends with Talia, especially. She was always so talented, you know? And she dove into everything. I was quieter, always on the sidelines. Nobody noticed me the way they did her. Sorry, that sounded so self-pitying.” She rested her head on his shoulder. He put his arm around her and teased a curl around his finger.
“I’m noticing you,” he said.
“You didn’t before.” She lifted her head up. “It was all about Ellen. And then Steph. And then, you know—”
“The rest of them,” he said begrudgingly, not wanting to revisit the details.
“You didn’t know I existed.”
“That’s because my head was too far up my own ass to see anything.”
She gave a complicated smile. “It’s okay, I know I wasn’t much to notice.”
“I’m noticing now,” he amended. “And I regret not seeing sooner what I was missing.”
She shrugged. “We wouldn’t have made a good match.”
“No.” He saw her wince—but that wasn’t what he’d meant. The problem wasn’t with her. He was the one who hadn’t seen what was right in front of him. He wouldn’t have known what to do with a girl as smart and serious as Jessie, even if he’d had her.
“I was pretty wrapped up in myself,” he said.
He was expecting her to agree, to talk about what an ass he’d been when they were younger, how much she’d hated him. And she did nod, agreeing with his assessment of himself. But then she blurted out, “I had the biggest crush on you.”
He turned in surprise. “Seriously?”
Her cheeks reddened. “It was before all that shit went down, but don’t you dare tell anyone. Especially Talia. I know she just assumed I was safe from the Shawn Effect.”
“The what?”
Jessie rolled her eyes. “That’s what she called it. How every girl wanted you.”
“That’s not true,” he said. “Not every girl.”
“Ninety-nine-point-nine percent of them. Trust me, I got to hear all about it.”
“We’ll have to agree to disagree, then.” He flashed her a wink, keeping everything light, trying to hold on to that good feeling he’d had all day. He couldn’t deny that he’d been popular. Being able to throw a ball while people cheered generally had that effect. But did anyone really like him? Did they even know him?
He hadn’t realized how lonely he was and how empty it all felt until he’d arrived at college, where he knew no one. Where he turned out to not be all that great at baseball, anyway—at least not compared to the guys who really led the team. He’d never imagined he’d go pro or anything like that. But he hadn’t been expecting to spend quite so much time on the bench.
“It was probably the same in college, right? Everyone coming to your games, getting really into it?” Jessie asked.
He shrugged, shifting uncomfortably against her. “Not really,” he admitted. “It was a lot different. Everything was so much bigger. Most people didn’t really care what I was up to. I was so wrapped up in it in high school, but in college…” He trailed off. But if he couldn’t be honest right now, with her—then when could he be? “I wish I’d paid more attention to other things. Like what I wanted to do after college. Or just, like, who I was when I wasn’t on a team. I wish I hadn’t just gone for whatever landed in my lap.” He took a breath, sneaking a glance at her. “That goes for what happened with your friends, too.”
He was afraid he might scare her off. Was this too personal? Too real? Too unlike the person she thought he was, or wanted him to be?
But she put her hand in his and stroked his palm with her thumb. “I had no idea,” she said, and he knew it was okay to have spoken.
“It’s not what people expect from me. I was all baseball all the time. Why would anyone ask me how I felt about it?”
Jessie bit her lip. “I feel that way, too, you know. Sometimes. Like everyone has this idea of me, but I don’t know what I’m doing. Or if I do, that doesn’t mean things don’t still go wrong. But I can’t tell my mom I had a bad day, or whatever, because she gets worried, and I don�
��t want to disappoint her.”
Shawn frowned. That wasn’t what he’d expected her to say. “Do you really think she’d be disappointed if you had a bad day?” he asked.
“Maybe not disappointed, exactly. But after my mom got sick, my little sister started doing really poorly in school, and my brother got into a bunch of fights and almost didn’t graduate. They don’t need any more stress in their lives.”
“I’d say that as long as you don’t get fired for giving blow jobs in the office, you’re probably doing okay.”
Jessie laughed. “I’d better behave myself, then. And you, too.”
Shawn grabbed her hand and yanked her up. “As long we don’t have to be too good,” he said with a wink. “Come on, we’re supposed to be having fun today. A break from the heavy stuff, right?”
He lunged for her, pretending to swoop her into the fountain, and she shrieked with laugher as he nuzzled in to kiss her neck.
He felt, suddenly, like the luckiest man in the world. Maybe he hadn’t made a single mistake after all—not if it all led to him being right here, right now, with her.
…
It was the perfect day. That was what Jessie kept thinking as they walked home from the subway that night, arm in arm, tired but laughing. They’d walked all over Manhattan, stopping in little stores and exploring tree-lined streets. They’d had dinner along the river and watched the streetlights come on, glittering over the water.
Sometimes the city seemed so enormous and overwhelming. She barely saw any of it, anyway—she just went to the office and came home. But this was a reminder that she could succeed at her job and have a life. There was more out there than working all the time. The city could be pretty spectacular if she took the time to stop and notice.
And it was a reminder that there was more to Shawn than the smiling guy on the surface. More to her, too. More that they had to share, to say to each other.
She knew that Talia would come home, the summer would end, Shawn would move out, and, more than likely, he’d move on.
But what if he didn’t come with an expiration date after all?
Maybe that was “the Shawn Effect” talking, making her feel this way. Maybe it was just moonlight, good food, a little too much wine. But somehow, she didn’t think so.
That could have explained the first time they slept together. Even the second, the third. But the Shawn Effect didn’t account for his hand in hers. It didn’t explain how right it felt to have his fingers idly tugging on her curls, or to feel his leg pressed against hers as they sat as close as any couple on the subway ride home, city lights twinkling as they sped toward Brooklyn.
This didn’t feel like she was playing at something, pretending to be someone she wasn’t—someone he’d want. She didn’t think that he was just trying this on, either. Looking at him, it struck her that what she felt was real.
Standing on the sidewalk outside her apartment, reaching for the keys in her pocket, she had a pretty good feeling that it was real for him, too.
“I’m so beat,” she exclaimed as she pretended to drag her feet up the four flights of stairs.
“I’ll carry you,” Shawn said.
She laughed. “You can’t do that.”
He stopped on the stair in front of her and bent over, motioning for her to hop on his back. “Never tell a man what he can and can’t do.”
“No,” she protested.
“Yes!”
They were still fighting about whether or not he could carry her when she jumped on his back, and he staggered up the stairs. She couldn’t stop giggling as she slid down, trying to hold on as they both stumbled. He was half carrying her, half falling, laughing his ass off when he dumped her on the landing, panting. She tugged her shoes off, pretending to chuck them at him. She was still on her butt, tears in her eyes from laughing so hard, when the door swung open.
She was about to tease him about whether he was going to carry her across the threshold when she realized he’d gone quiet. She looked up.
His face was pale, and he was no longer laughing. He swallowed, then looked to her, and her heart stopped.
Shawn hadn’t opened the door. It had opened for him.
There in the doorway was Talia, arms folded, staring down at her as the last gasp of laughter from her carefree summer with the hottest guy she’d ever met suddenly died on her lips.
Chapter Eighteen
“You want to keep it down out here? You’ll wake up half the building,” Talia said.
“You’re home,” Jessie said, scrambling up and fixing her shirt.
Shawn could hear the catch in her voice—and he knew Talia could hear it, too. It wasn’t the excitement that should have come from two best friends seeing each other after more than a month apart. Even her smile was strained.
Jessie cleared her throat and tried again. “It’s so good to see you!” She went to throw her arms around Talia, but Talia, arms still folded, stepped back and out of her way.
“Hey,” Shawn started, reaching for his sister. He knew Talia was upset, but that was no reason to snub her best friend.
But Talia threw her hands up and turned away, like she couldn’t stand for either of them to touch her.
“Looks like you’ve been having a great time this summer. Sorry to spoil all the fun.”
“Talia,” Jessie tried again.
“It’s not like that,” Shawn said quickly.
“Then what’s it like?” Talia asked, turning on both of them.
But Shawn couldn’t answer. He had no idea what to say.
It was Jessie who finally asked Talia was she was doing there. Which, considering that this was Talia’s home, didn’t come out all that well.
“There was a last-minute spot on standby, so I grabbed it. I kept texting you guys and calling to let you know I was on my way, even hoping someone would be around to help me with my stuff. But nobody answered.”
“We were…” Jessie looked to Shawn.
“We were out for a while,” he said. Wasn’t that allowed?
But of course Talia could reasonably expect a text back from one of them at some point during the entire day. Of course she would have been surprised to get nothing but silence.
“Out. Yeah. I got that,” she said. “But it seemed weird that neither of you would answer your phones for hours. Shawn I wasn’t surprised by, but you.” She turned to Jessie, and Shawn was afraid of what his sister was going to say. Would he get between them? Whose side would he choose?
Talia shook her head. “I was so worried. I thought something bad might have happened. I got to the apartment, and it was empty. When I called your cell again, I heard it ringing. In your bedroom. So I walked in.”
Shawn risked a quick glance at Jessie. He could read her mind as clearly as if she’d spoken her fears aloud. How had they left things that morning? Jessie was usually immaculate, but he’d dragged her out of the apartment so quickly after the shower, he hadn’t even let her clean up. It was supposed to be part of their “day of fun.” Now he could have kicked himself for not listening to her when she’d wanted to tidy up and put away their clothes.
Why was he always so impulsive, so quick to give in to his whims? Why could he never do the right, responsible thing?
Judging by the look on Talia’s face, whatever she’d seen hadn’t been pretty.
“That’s funny, I thought,” Talia went on. “Jessie’s usually so neat, but she’s got clothes all over the floor, her underwear, nice, lacy stuff she doesn’t usually wear…”
“Please.” Jessie held up a hand, her face reddening.
“Come on, Talia,” Shawn said, stepping forward. Jessie didn’t need her sex life paraded about the apartment for everyone to talk about.
But Talia kept going. “And then what do I see but my brother’s clothes on the floor. Your Nike shorts, your Michigan T-shirt, and what I’m going to guess are your boxers.” Her voice dropped, deadly and raw. “So don’t fucking tell me you’re just friends hanging a
ll over each other. I saw you walking up the street, coming into the apartment.”
“We didn’t plan it that way,” Jessie said. “It just sort of…happened.”
“You sound like Steph right now,” Talia said. “Did you forget that we’ve been through this before?”
“Wait, Talia,” Shawn said. “It’s not—”
But Talia held up a hand to stop him. He wasn’t sure what he was trying to say, anyway. Or what Jessie had meant. What did she think had “just happened,” as though they hadn’t both wanted it, craved it, indulged in it over and over again?
“I feel like an idiot for interrupting,” Talia said.
“No,” Jessie jumped in quickly. “We’re so glad you’re home.”
Talia’s eyes widened. “Wow, that was fast. You’re already into we territory, but you didn’t think in one of the eighteen thousand texts or emails or Skype conversations we’ve had to maybe mention that something was happening?”
“I didn’t know how,” Jessie said, sounding miserable.
Talia stared at her. “We’ve been friends for how long?”
Shawn didn’t know what to do. Talia was his sister. She’d been there for every relationship—or more like every not-a-relationship—he’d had. She was the one constant when everything changed.
But Jessie was…Jessie. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and never let go.
Only he didn’t. He didn’t do anything. His legs felt like lead, his arms paralyzed by his sides. He was way out of his depth here. It was as though his brain—and his heart—had been scrambled. He couldn’t keep up with how quickly everything had changed.
Maybe he’d imagined that together, he and Jessie would show Talia that this wasn’t some stupid “Shawn Effect,” or whatever she’d called it. It wasn’t high school, and it wasn’t some bullshit fling that would be over right away, back to their regular lives as though nothing had happened. This was different from all the other times. He was different.
But Jessie seemed just as lost and uncertain as he was. It dawned on him, suddenly and viciously, that there was a chance he’d gotten this all wrong. Jessie had admitted to having some kind of childhood crush on him, but that didn’t reassure him. It didn’t mean she wasn’t just playing out some adolescent fantasy, besting the old friends who’d ditched her, and she’d be perfectly relieved when it ended and she could move on.
Wrong Bed, Right Roommate (Accidental Love) Page 14