Yours Truly

by Jen Meyers

  I typed out the words What if I changed my mind? and hovered my finger over Send.

  Because a girl COULD change her mind about things, couldn’t she? Except in this case, wouldn’t it make me seem weak? The idea left a bad taste in my mouth. I wasn’t weak and I didn’t need him to save me. I could save myself. If Travis proved to be neglectful because he kept leaving me, I could just go.

  Maybe even sneak off to my roof. And Josh.

  Okay, no. Focus, Will. On Travis.

  “There you are!” Travis’s voice cut into my thoughts, and I looked up to see him holding out a glass of champagne for me. “I was only gone for a moment,” he said. “Where’d you go?”

  I let my finger slide to the delete button and watched my words disappear. Just like Josh. Then I put my phone away and turned my full attention to my date.

  I could do Travis, I thought. Sure, he was no Josh, but I could still have a wonderful evening with him.

  Except…after THAT dance? I had lost all desire to spend any time with anyone but Josh. And I was no longer in the mood for a night of debauchery with Travis.

  Shit.

  I tried to shake those thoughts out of my head. Telling myself over and over that it was ridiculous—I didn’t NEED a man.

  Not even Josh.

  Problem was? I WANTED him.

  nineteen

  “RISE AND SHINE, Will!”

  There was this incessant thumping in my head. Or banging on my ceiling. Wait. That didn’t make sense. I opened my eyes unwillingly, trying to figure out where the hell the noise was coming from.

  And I thought, please, for all that is good and right in this world, do not let it be my apartment turning itself into the world’s smallest waterpark again.

  As soon as the idea formed in my head, though, I shot straight out of bed, stumbling for the living room. It was only once I got out there that I realized it was Josh knocking on my door.

  Or, actually, hammering on it with his fist.

  I wrenched open the door and snapped “What?!”

  “Morning, Sunshine,” he said, and brushed past me looking way too chipper and awake for this early in the morning.

  Of course, it’s possible I was extra grumpy because I’d spent the night tossing and turning, unable to sleep because I couldn’t get Josh out of my mind. It wasn’t until after four that I finally fell into a restless sleep.

  So, now, a mere two hours later, Josh was cheerfully unpacking bagels and muffins out of a bakery bag—the fresh, sweet, buttery-rich smell doing nothing to counteract my natural too-fucking-early-in-the-morning surliness.

  “God, are places even open this early?”

  “Hey, we’re in the city that never sleeps. So, yes, it was open.” He pushed a coffee toward me, and lifted the other to his mouth, but first said, “You know, there are people who actually get up and go to work in the morning.”

  I squinted at him. “Willingly?”

  “Yup. But then, they’d get fired if they didn’t.”

  Reaching for my cup, I shuddered. “Thank god I don’t work for anyone.”

  Just as I was about to sit down, he said, “You wanna shower first…or eat?”

  I glanced down and cringed. I was in my ratty old gray sweatpants and a cropped pink t-shirt that Bliss had given me a few years ago that said Fuck Me in this swoopy font across my chest. With my hair shooting in all directions, I had no doubt that I looked like the red-haired love-child of Medusa and Albert Einstein.

  Fuck me, indeed.

  After everything that had happened over the past few days—especially last night—and now that I had all these feelings and my mind was spinning like a Tilt-A-Whirl, I had to look like this in front of him?

  But see, that was EXACTLY the problem with what was happening with Josh. Suddenly I cared what I looked like in front of him…and WHY SHOULD I CARE? I am who I am. I look the way I look. I didn’t want to stress over it with my best friend.

  Feeling completely irritated with myself—and with Josh for making me get all the feels for him—I took one quick sip of coffee (cream and no sugar, just the way I liked it…god, why did he have to keep getting everything right?) then put the cup down on the counter and headed for the shower.

  “I don’t remember agreeing to going this early,” I grumbled as I headed down the hall. “Your surprise better be worth it.”

  “The early bird gets the worm,” he called back.

  “Who. Wants. WORMS?” I yelled, then slammed the bathroom door, cutting off the sound of his laughter echoing down the hall.

  “So,” Josh said as we sat in an empty subway car heading south thirty minutes later, “how was the rest of your date last night?”

  I looked at him sharply. Washing off the remains of last night in the shower had taken my edge off, but I was still feeling out of sorts, and I couldn’t tell if he was teasing or just curious.

  “It was…fine.” I gave a non-committal shrug.

  “He going to make the column?” Pressing my lips together, I tried to suppress a smile, but couldn’t quite do it. He poked me in the side, grinning. “So he IS. What’d the douche do?”

  “He wasn’t a douche,” I said a little snippily. “He was nice. He just wasn’t…present.” I sighed. “He spent more time talking business with everyone else than he did talking to me.”

  And I had spent more time thinking about Josh than I had about my date. I’d even accidentally called him Josh several times, but he hadn’t been listening to me well enough to notice.

  Which was just as well because I’d been so flustered by Josh last night that I had been just as terrible company as Travis had been. I wasn’t sure who deserved to make my column more—him or me.

  My face flushed at the thought. Time to change the subject.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen the streets of New York this quiet,” I said as we walked in Soho toward the East River.

  “It’s really not THAT early, you know.” Josh rolled his eyes. “Some people have been up for hours.”

  “Crazy people.”

  “Well, it IS New York.”

  As I glanced around, I realized where we were. “Are we going to your workshop?”

  “Nope.” Josh was…glowing, that was the perfect word to describe him. He practically bounced down the street. I watched his eyes, tried to see where he was looking, but he was just taking everything in.

  What the hell was this surprise we had to see so early in the morning?

  Suddenly Josh stopped in front of this old brick warehouse and grinned at me. I looked at the building, trying to figure out why he was bringing me here, as he pulled out a key.

  But before he inserted it, he turned to me, more serious now. “I have to tell you something before we go in.”

  “Okay…?”

  “I’ve been working on this for the past couple of years in my spare time, and it’s finally ready. I’m moving in at the end of the month.”

  “Wait, you’re moving…?”

  Josh was a fixture in my life—one that I wasn’t willing to give up easily. But his moving out of the building would change things. Hugely. No more seeing him almost daily. No more spying on his dates. No more telling him immediately about mine. No more laundry or grocery shopping together.

  Part of me felt devastated, while the smaller, rational part was thinking What’s the big deal? So he’ll be across town now. It’s not like he’s actually moving away. You’ll still see him.

  But would I?

  All of these thoughts flashed through my mind in the time it took him to turn the key in the lock. Then he swung the door open, stepped aside…

  And words abandoned me.

  The place was HUGE. There was no other way to describe it. Exposed brick walls and wooden beams stood on gleaming wood floors under a sky-high ceiling. About halfway down the length of the space, an open staircase went up the left wall, leading to the second floor that only covered the far half of the building.

  We were stand
ing in the living room where the ceiling reached thirty feet above us. Small track lights followed the lines of the rafters, suspended in the air ten feet overhead like stars brought down close but still out of reach. Ahead of us, tucked under the second floor, was the kitchen and dining room area. Large windows in the exterior walls flooded the place with light.

  I was so overwhelmed with it all, I opened my mouth but nothing came out.

  Josh nodded. “Right? Me, too. And I made it. But it does that to me every time I walk in here now.”

  “Are you…? How can you…?” My mind was trying to fathom how he was going from a tiny apartment to a WHOLE freaking warehouse. I mean, yeah, he’d done the work himself, but still. “Is this why you were at the gala last night? Because you really ARE furniture famous?”

  Josh just shrugged. “I do okay.”

  I gaped at him and laughed as I pointed around the room. “I’d say you do more than just ‘okay.’ Holy shit, look at this place!”

  He grabbed my hand and started pulling me toward the stairs. “Come on, I gotta show you the best part.”

  He bounded up the stairs, taking two at a time, while I walked slowly, running my hand along the smooth wooden railing, letting my eyes drink in the splendor of the space. All brick and wood and light. It was utter perfection.

  At the top of the stairs, Josh was bouncing on his toes, waving me forward. His excitement was contagious, and I quickened my steps, laughing. He led me through a light-filled bedroom to a sliding glass door.

  We stepped outside onto a long balcony that had another staircase at the far end of it. Josh was up the steps before I’d even finished looking around.

  “Will!” he called. “Come on!”

  I hurried up the stairs after him, and then stopped, stunned, at the top.

  One small section had been turned into this cozy, outdoor patio. Deep blue stone pavers on the floor were surrounded on three sides by long, skinny planters filled with small trees and long grasses tall enough to give a little privacy from surrounding buildings. Two natural dark wood Adirondack chairs sat side-by-side facing the edge of the building, looking out over the East River.

  I was equal parts enchanted with how beautiful it was and stunned that he was replacing our rooftop with one of his own. That’s when it really hit me. He wouldn’t be meeting me up on our roof anymore.

  I felt like I was losing my best friend.

  “What do you think?” he said, his voice soft. He’d come over to stand in front of me, was studying my face.

  Tears were trying very hard to reach the surface, but I damped them down. Instead, I smiled too brightly at him, and said, “It’s amazing, Josh.” I looked around, shaking off my sadness as I shook my head. “I can’t believe you did all this. I mean, I CAN believe it because you’re amazing, but it’s just…it’s incredible.”

  He was watching me intently, his eyes searching mine. Then he lifted his hands, cupped my face and leaned in close.

  “You’re amazing,” he whispered, his words breathed out, soaking into my skin as he brought his lips to mine.

  And I lost all sense of everything except Josh.

  His lips were warm against mine, his kiss maddeningly soft, bordering on chaste. But I was desperate for more, and as I hooked my fingers into his belt loops and pulled him closer, I opened my lips to taste him.

  He groaned as my tongue touched his lips, and then it was like I’d flipped a switch in him. His hands slid into my hair, gripping my head as his mouth opened and his tongue tangled with mine.

  He kissed me, and kissed me, and kissed me until I couldn’t catch my breath and the world felt like it was spinning crazy fast. My body tingled EVERYWHERE as he pressed closer still, like he couldn’t get enough of me.

  I couldn’t get enough of him.

  I moaned as his lips left mine and traveled down my neck. He nipped at my collarbone, then kissed his way back up to my ear. His warm breath sent shivers all over my skin as he sucked on my earlobe, nearly bringing me to my knees.

  My hands had long ago left his waistband and slipped under his shirt, exploring the rifts and valleys of his chest, smoothing over the vast expanse of his strong back.

  His hands slid down my sides, grazing my breasts and making me gasp. And just as his fingers got to the hem of my shirt, my phone rang.

  My first impulse was to ignore it. Because, let’s be honest here, I was more than a little engaged at the moment. But then I remembered what time it was.

  Everyone knew I was not a morning person, so if someone was calling me at seven in the morning…

  I broke off from Josh, scrabbling for my phone as I breathlessly said, “Sorry, I’ve just got to…”

  The screen said MOM.

  Oh, shit. No. This couldn’t be good.

  “Willow?” she said when I answered, her voice strained and teary.

  “Oh my god, Mom. What happened? What’s wrong?” I pressed my hand to my ear even though it was quiet out, even though I could hear her perfectly fine. Maybe I was trying to get closer somehow, I don’t know.

  “It’s…your dad. He’s…” Her words choked off into tortured silence. I wanted to yell What? He’s what, Mom? But I waited. A moment later, her voice thick, she said, “Honey, you need to come now.”

  twenty

  My world was shrinking. Everything felt tight, uncomfortable, wrong.

  And slow. I couldn’t run fast enough to catch a cab. The car crawled through traffic. I couldn’t pack. I had no clue which clothes I’d already put in my bag. Had I packed any pants yet? Because I was going to need pants.

  Josh had rushed back with me, unlocking my door and letting me in when my hands were shaking too badly for me to even slip the key into the lock. He’d stood watching me race around my apartment in a panic, then at some point he’d disappeared.

  I didn’t know when. I hadn’t noticed.

  At least, not until he was back, standing in my bedroom doorway, his keys in his hand, calling my name.

  I was sitting on the bed next to my questionably packed bag, trying to book a seat on the first flight to Boston.

  “Will,” Josh said.

  I held up my hand. “There isn’t anything available sooner?” I was saying to the airline guy. “You don’t understand. I need to get to Boston two hours ago. My dad…” I couldn’t finish that sentence.

  “Will.”

  “Please…isn’t there any way you can fit me in someplace?” I said, tears stinging my eyes. “I’m small. I don’t take up much room, I swear. Hell, I’ll ride with the baggage…”

  “WILL.”

  I looked up at Josh as I listened to the guy on the phone half-berate me, half-apologize that he couldn’t get me on a flight any sooner than noon.

  That was four and a half hours away, which meant I’d get to Boston six hours from now. I could practically walk there in that time.

  Fuck.

  “Maybe I can get a train,” I muttered as I hung up the phone and started looking up schedules.

  But Josh was suddenly kneeling right in front of me, his eyes soft, his hand gently stilling mine. “Put your phone away,” he said. “I’m driving you.”

  “You don’t need to—”

  “I know. I want to.”

  “But I don’t—”

  “Need anyone to save you. Yes, I know that, too.” His eyebrows lifted and he gave a little shrug. “But maybe this time you do? Even just a little?”

  I nodded. Maybe I did. Maybe we all needed saving sometimes. And maybe that was okay, that it didn’t make us any less capable or independent.

  Everything came crashing down on me at once—worries about my dad and mom, about losing Josh once he moved, about whether I had remembered to pack any underwear (not likely) and whether I’d need to bring a black dress—oh god, please no.

  And it was too much. I started breathing crazy-fast but felt like I was suffocating. I couldn’t get any air into my lungs no matter how many breaths I took.

  But J
osh was there, his hands gently cupping my face, his eyes holding mine.

  “Slow it down, Will,” he said quietly.

  He took a long, exaggerated deep breath, and I tried to mimic him, nodding, my eyes locked on his as we breathed together.

  A few breaths in and I could feel the air again filling my lungs, could feel myself returning.

  “You okay?” he said.

  My chin wobbled, tears threatening. “No,” I said. “But yes.” I stared at him for a moment. “Thank you.”

  It was in that moment that I realized I did need him. Because he got me. On almost all levels. Like no one else ever had. And somehow, without warning, without wanting him to, he’d become necessary to me. Essential.

  I was equal parts grateful and scared to death. Because I’d done the thing I swore I’d never do ever again.

  Fall for someone.

  Even as I cursed myself for letting it happen, I was reaching for my bag. He picked up the duffel he’d dropped by my door, and then we were out in the hall, hurrying down the steps and out onto the street to his car.

  The drive was a blur of worry and stress, my phone clutched in my hand the entire time in case my mom called again. I tried calling her several times, but kept getting her voicemail, which honestly was freaking me out. I sent a quick text to The Girls and they all offered to come, but I said no. There wasn’t anything anyone could do—at least not until we knew more.

  He’d had another heart attack, Mom had said, but he was doing okay. At least for the moment.

  Josh drove like his life depended on it, pushing the limits, getting us there in record time. By the time we got to the hospital, the only thing I wanted was to see my dad. I sent up wishes like prayers, willing the world to hold onto him for just a little longer.

  The hospital door whooshed open, blowing cool, dry air in my face. We headed straight for the emergency department, and asked for my dad.

  “He’s been admitted.” The woman peered at her computer screen. “He’s in room four-seventeen.”

  All the way down the hall and as we rode up to the fourth floor in the elevator, I was so grateful for Josh’s silent presence. He wasn’t pushing me, asking me questions, or incessantly asking if I was all right. He was just there. And that was exactly what I needed.