by B. Cranford
“Have you been together long?” Cee-Cee, Chris cleared her throat. “I’m guessing not.”
“Cee-Cee, thanks for stopping by.” Declan was determined to get this woman out of his office as soon as possible so he could go after Jade, and he didn’t care how rude he had to be to do it.
God, the look on her face. Her freckles, one of Declan’s favorite things about her had stood out more than ever against the bleached color of Jade’s skin as she’d realized who was in his office.
The look that took over Cee-Cee’s face told Declan that she wasn’t done talking, but whatever else this woman had to say, he had no interest in hearing it. He shook his head, hoping the look on his own face told her he was done.
It worked. She walked from his office without a goodbye, throwing an “I’ll be in contact,” over her shoulder as she made her way towards the elevator that had just taken Jade away from him.
He slammed his office door closed with way more force than necessary, but even taking it out on the door didn’t give him any relief from the worry flooding his veins.
She’s going to use this to push me away. He could feel it; Jade slipping through his fingers when he’d just grabbed hold of her. He thrust his hands into his hair, gripping it too tightly and pulling on it. It didn’t distract him. He fell back into the chair that Cee-Cee, sorry, make that Chris, had just vacated and closed his eyes, trying to find within himself the answer to this problem. Trying to find the best way to approach his skittish girl and make sure that she knew.
She was too important to ever leave behind.
He didn’t give a flying fuck that their relationship was as young as his last name. She’d been his girl for months.
Longer. More than a year, in the back of his mind, slowly working its way forward until it was a beacon that shone every night he loved her body and her heart and her demons.
His phone beeped from his desk, where he’d set it down after texting with Jade prior to his meeting with Cee-Cee.
Freckles: Sorry.
Declan: Nope. You don’t have to be sorry.
Declan: I’m coming over.
Freckles: Don’t.
Freckles: Please.
Freckles: Sorry.
Declan wanted to throw his phone at the wall, then storm over to Jade’s apartment and break down the door if that’s what it took to see her.
Except . . .
He knew her. He knew her well enough to know that it wouldn’t help. Not right away. He’d go there and she’d accuse him of being a caveman, or of letting his hero complex show, or of trying to be her white knight.
But dammit, he wanted to be those things when it came to her.
And realizing that he couldn’t was harder than anything he’d done before.
Harder than telling his father that he wasn’t going to attend the college of his father’s choosing.
Harder than keeping it together for Brighton when Sebastian had left her broke and heartbroken.
Harder than accepting that one forgotten phone call could change everything.
There was, however, one thing he could do. And though it hurt to know he wouldn’t be the one to go and offer her comfort, he sent the only person he figured would be up for the job.
“Ah, Jade? You know that I know that you’re in there, right?” Brighton’s voice was muffled by the door, but clear enough that Jade felt a jolt of something in her system. “You also know that I still have a key and that the only reason I’m out here instead of in there already is because I’m nice like that?”
Jade surprised herself with a small laugh at Brighton’s words. It was just like her to be polite even in the face of crippling anxiety and best friend implosions.
“So, yeah, you can ignore me all you want, but I’m not going anywhere.”
I’m not going anywhere.
Those were the magic words. Jade closed the few feet of space between where she’d stood listening to her friend talking out in the hallway and the door that separated the two of them. Her “hi” was lost in the all-consuming hug that Brighton wrapped her in the second Jade pulled the door open. But instead of trying to get it back, she simply let herself be held, slowly bringing her own arms up and around her friend.
“Declan?” Jade asked after a few minutes, needing to know—no, needing confirmation that he was the one who had sent Brighton to help her.
She’d told him not to come. And she’d meant it.
He’d listened. And he’d sent the next best thing.
Her heart fluttered and the demons that had been running rampant since she’d arrived home fell back a step.
“Who else?” Brighton broke the hug only to take Jade’s hand and lead her to the old kitchen table that had been there since the apartment had been Brighton’s.
“I thought maybe there was a bestie Bat-signal I accidentally activated.”
“No, but that would be cool as hell. We should look into that.” Bright’s eyes widened in mock excitement. “But, like, after we sort this out. Priorities and all.”
“Right. Of course. Add it to the to-do list, right after deciding on the baby name and figuring out what the fuck is wrong with me.” She leaned into her friend, wondering what came next. She was new to this whole friendship/sharing thing still.
Training wheels required.
As if Brighton had read her mind, her next words gave Jade the permission she needed to talk, to open the doors on her anxiety and her baggage and let Brighton decide if she wanted anything to do with it. “So, tell me.”
“I told you about my Dad, about Chris. About . . . everything.” Jade tried to stop the trembling of her bottom lip, telling herself that she was too old to cry, too smart to cry, too strong to cry.
But she wasn’t. And it didn’t matter, because Brighton was there, being strong enough in that moment for the two of them.
She told Brighton in a whisper-quiet voice what had happened in Declan’s office, knowing that Dec had likely given her the abbreviated version in order to get her to Jade that much sooner.
Then, she told Brighton about the demons. When they’d spoken in the car a few days earlier, she hadn’t really gone into detail. She’d tried to cling to some of her secrets, unsure how that side of her would look to Brighton, who seemed so together.
“They’re there all the time. They tell me I’ll be forgotten again, and I can’t help but believe them, even though I know I shouldn’t. Even though I know I have no real reason to feel the way I do, not when I have my sisters and my mom. And you.” There were tears in her voice, Jade knew it but didn’t try to stop them. “I’m an asshole because when you told me about the baby, I panicked. Instead of being a good friend, your best friend, I thought that meant you wouldn’t need me anymore, or have time for me anymore.”
“Jay,” Brighton whispered, the look on her face telling Jade that she’d been wrong. That her demons had been wrong.
“I’m sorry, Bright. I’m happy for you, I promise I am.” She punctuated her words with a watery smile, which Brighton returned.
Because that’s the kind of person Brighton was. Kind. Loving. Forgiving.
The best kind of friend and Jade’s best friend.
“I know you are. I hate that I didn’t tell you sooner that I need you now more than ever. That I’m not going anywhere, and that if you try to, I’m going to steal all of your shoes because we both know you won’t leave without them.”
Jade acquiesced to that with a tilt of her head and a little shrug. “Especially the yellow heels. They have good memories.”
With Declan. Without Declan’s clothes.
“Exactly. So, you’re stuck with me.”
“There are worse people to be stuck with,” Jade offered, acting as though Brighton’s words didn’t just lift her spirits enough to see that, even though she’d always live a little bit in the darkness and under a cloud, her life was a good one.
Surrounded by family and friends.
But not Declan.
Because you wouldn’t let him come to you.
Best way to make sure someone leaves you is to give them reason to.
Oh, shut the fuck up.
Jade smiled as she admonished those pesky voices—the ones determined to see her fade away into her hurt. Into her past.
“Why pink?” Brighton’s question came from seemingly nowhere, and it took Jade a minute to bring her mind around to the question. They’d moved from the table several hours earlier, settling in on the couch with junk food and junk TV. They’d talked about everything—things they already knew about each other and things they didn’t.
Jade had explained her need to be memorable was the reason for coloring her hair, and now, Brighton wanted to know more.
Why pink? Jade’s brow furrowed as she tried to recall her initial reasoning for the bubblegum color. “No real reason. It looks good, and it’s easy on my natural hair, I guess.” True enough, she supposed. She’d had the color, or a version of it, for long enough now that she really couldn’t remember why she’d settled on the shade to begin with.
“I like it, but you know you don’t need pink hair to stand out and be memorable, right? I see you. Sebastian sees you. Declan sees nothing but you.” Brighton raised one eyebrow at Jade, as if daring her to disagree. Which she didn’t.
“Do you—” Jade paused as a plan formed in her mind. One she wanted to see through for three reasons. For herself. For Brighton. And, for Declan. “I need your help with something.”
“I’ll help you with anything. Well, except moving a dead body, but that’s only because I’m not supposed to lift anything heavy now that I’m pregnant. Sebastian’s insistent.”
Jade laughed, loving the unconditional way her friend agreed to be a part of a plan that relied on a little bit of luck and a hair stylist by the name of Barb.
Freckles: I need my white knight.
Declan couldn’t stop checking the screen of his phone to make sure he’d read the message correctly. She wants me there.
It was hard not to collapse with relief, having spent the better part of twenty-four hours worrying about how his girl was handling it all. He’d borne witness to the unexpected, unplanned and unwanted reunion of Chris and Jade, had seen firsthand in the past the way her entire demeanor shifted when she was hurting—case in point being her grand theft auto after hearing Brighton’s happy news.
Heading down to his Mustang, his mind wandered to the phone call he’d had with Sebastian in the aftermath.
“So, what are you going to do?”
“Go to her? Wait? Throw myself into work?” Sit here and wonder what the hell happened, and if there is any way I can fix it?
“So, no fucking idea then?”
Declan shrugged, though he knew that Sebastian couldn’t see him. “Pretty much. You don’t have any sage advice for me?”
A snort greeted him at the end of the line. Clearly, Sebastian wasn’t about to wow him with relationship advice. “That’s a no then?”
“Look, Declan, we both know I’ve messed shit up way more than I’ve ever gotten it right. Only the fact that Brighton is basically perfect, not to mention the nicest woman on the planet, saved me from living with regret. So, when it comes to advice, the best I got is just listen to her and let her tell you what she needs. Also, call her. Always fucking call her.”
Declan settled into the driver’s seat of his car, taking a moment to tap out a reply to Jade, lest she think he wasn’t going to be there when she needed him.
Declan: On my way, Freckles.
He could have elaborated, asked how she was, if she needed anything, but priority number one was getting to her. After that, he could handle whatever came their way—if she’d let him, that was.
Sebastian’s advice rattled around in his head. If I’d called her the first time, maybe things would be different. But thinking that way didn’t help anything. Jade’s demons, though exacerbated by Declan’s failure to show and call, were the result of a shitty father, a failed relationship and simple brain chemistry. Telling himself that they would have hit this bump at some point anyway—and at least now he knew her well enough, had managed to prove himself to her—he started the engine, ready to play the hero. Play her white knight.
Prove that they could have more weeks and months and years together that were as good as the last few had been.
He chuckled darkly to himself, thinking about the two extremes of their relationship. The good, the bad. The anger, the happiness. And as he drove towards her, he thought about that stupid missed phone call, her hand on his back and how soothed he’d felt in that moment.
How far they’d come since then.
He thought about all the barbed words and the way she’d pressed against him in the supply closet. He thought about her smile, her fever dream, the way she called his name, and the fact she’d made and delivered soup for him when he was sick.
He thought about what he would say when he knocked on her door.
And how he didn’t know what to say at all.
Jade was taking one last look in the mirror when a knock sounded at her door. Declan. There was no one else it could be, given that she’d finished up with Brighton and sent her home to her fiancé, then texted Declan to get him to come to her.
She’d asked for her knight.
And he hadn’t hesitated to say he was on his way.
Within minutes of sending the text, she’d received his reply and now, with a firm fist to the door, he had arrived.
I knew he’d come.
The voices in her head were blissfully silent. Since the moment she’d seen Chris, they’d raged and screamed and reminded her that she was easy to leave, easy to forget, too hard to handle. But then Brighton had come, at the behest of Declan, certainly, but Jade had no doubt that her friend would have been there anyway. And with Bright by her side, Jade had called her mother—the one person who could really tell her what had happened with her father.
“He loved you, baby. He loved all of us in his own way. But he was unsettled. Troubled. His mind . . .”
Her mama’s voice had trailed off then, leaving Jade to fill in the blanks. Like her, she imagined, her father struggled with the demons within. And while Jade was now taking a chance on Declan—and, to a lesser extent, Brighton—her father let his demons eat him up. He had been swallowed by the city, and he never came back.
But those were his demons. It had taken time, heartbreak and a slew of mistakes and recriminations, but Jade was finally realizing that. It wasn’t just you he left. He left all his girls. Because of him, not because of you.
“Jade? Sweetheart, are you in there?” Declan’s voice cut through Jade’s thoughts and pulled her back to the moment. She swept her hair over one shoulder and closed the distance to the front door of her little apartment.
Before she even had a chance to step aside to let him in, he was on her, kissing her firmly but gently. He brushed his tongue against the seam of her lips, and she opened for him without hesitation, her entire being softening with each pass of his tongue, his lips against hers.
“Are you okay?” His question was quiet, as though maybe he was afraid to push her, or scare her, or provoke her.
It’s not like you’ve ever given him reason to think you might bite back if he said the wrong thing, her brain supplied, making Jade’s lips curve into a smile. Yeah, she’d given him plenty of reason to be a touch wary of her.
But not anymore. She was ready now. Not cured, not by a long shot.
But hopeful.
Strong.
Willing.
And, though she wasn’t sure she was ready to give him the words—and the associated power of them—just yet, she was completely in love with the man in front of her.
“You came,” she offered in response. Was she okay? Not entirely, but she was infinitely better now that his hands were cupping her face, his mouth still close enough that a small lift on her toes would bring them together for another kiss.
“Well, n
ot quite yet. But soon, I hope.” Declan’s joke gave her pause, and he looked somewhat abashed. “Shit, Jay, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”
Jade cut him off with a shake of her head and a light smile. “It’s okay. I mean, it’s a tired joke, but I’m not upset.”
“You asked for a knight and you got the joker.”
“I think I got both, actually.” She wrapped her hands around his wrists, his hands still resting upon her cheeks, and gently lowered them to their sides, linking their fingers together.
Holding hands, face-to-face.
She blinked at him a few times, before turning her head left and right ever so slightly.
He remained silent.
She raised her eyebrows at him.
He stood still, as if expecting her to say something.
Men.
“Anything you want to say? Or . . .” She trailed off, hoping her question would prompt him to notice the change in her appearance.
“There are a lot of things I want to say, but—” He let go of one hand, holding tight to the other and led Jade deeper into her apartment, settling on the couch. Pulling her down beside him, she reveled in the fact he kept their hands joined the entire time. He was holding on. “Sebastian told me I should listen.”
“You can listen next, I promise.” She offered him a smile and shifted closer on the sofa. She wanted to climb into his lap and wrap her arms around his neck, but wasn’t entirely sure that she should . . . yet.
She was sure she would end up there eventually so, ever prepared, she sat as close as she could and sent mental messages to him that if he wanted to pick her up and hold her close, she was into that idea.
“I wanted to punch something today. Not you, to be clear. And not even Cee-Cee. Though, caveman that I am,” he said it with a self-deprecating smile, which Jade couldn’t help but return, “if she’d have been a dude like I’d been expecting, I absolutely would have. Is that—is that okay?”
Jade giggled at the slightly ashamed face Declan was presenting, and nodded before gesturing at him to continue.