Christmas in the City II

by Samantha Chase

  As much as I wanted her to wait for me, I couldn’t make that request. I was a bastard of a kid, but not cruel, especially not to her. How could I be? Her good-bye embrace and kiss on my cheek got me through all these years. If she had a family, I’d have to hold on to that for a little longer, like forever.

  Jesus H, Josh. Pull your panties up and just knock on the damn door.

  “Just a minute?” Thirty-year-old Brianna Ryan sounded as sweet as the seventeen-year-old version. I’d bet she was still as beautiful, too. I shut my eyes and wiped my sweaty tattooed hand on my black jeans. Could I get a fucking grip? I didn’t even know when the door opened.

  “Josh? Oh my God!” Brianna covered her mouth with her hands as her eyes grew saucer wide. “Is it . . .” She gulped as her jaw quivered. “Is it really you?”

  I chuckled as my eyes took her in. Thirty-year-old Brianna Ryan wasn’t beautiful, she was breathtaking. “Hi, Cupcake.”

  Brianna threw her arms around my neck and tackled me with a hug. I wrapped my arms around her and lifted her up by the waist. I buried my head in her neck, the familiar vanilla scent filling my senses. Again, sweet, like everything else about her.

  “But . . .” Brianna blinked and shook her head, as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. “I just heard from you last week. You didn’t say anything—”

  I put her down but kept my hands on her tiny waist. “I wanted to surprise you. Uncle Billy is opening that second shop after all, and he sent me back here to run it.” After the military, I started working for my uncle’s custom bike shop. I mentioned in my last letter he was tinkering with opening a store in New York, but never said anything about possibly moving back.

  “I can’t believe it.” Brianna beamed at me. Warmth flooded my chest at the joy on her face. “Come in.” She pulled me inside and shut the door behind me.

  I gazed around her tiny apartment as I made my way inside. She had a small eat in kitchen, a love seat instead of a couch in the middle of her living room, and my heart sank into my stomach when I met the gaze of the guy sitting on it.

  “I’m Scott.” Scott strutted over to me with a tight smile. “You must be Josh. The old best friend from the letters. Nice to finally meet you. I didn’t know people actually wrote letters anymore.” He chuckled as he shook my hand. I plastered on a big smile to hide my disappointment. I’d hoped, but hadn’t expected her to be alone.

  “That’s me. I guess we’re different. Nice to meet you. I hope I didn’t interrupt your night—”

  “Not at all. I’m on my way to a business dinner, just dropped by to see my girl for a little bit beforehand.” Scott picked up Brianna’s hand and brought it to his lips. I didn’t miss the side glance he gave me as he did it. It’d been a long time since the overwhelming urge to punch someone boiled in my gut. I hated the familiarity in the way he touched her. That should’ve been me she giggled at with a blush in her cheeks. She was my girl long before she was anyone else’s. Too bad I never told her.

  “Did I hear you call her Cupcake?” Scott’s brow furrowed as he looked between Brianna and me.

  Brianna’s mouth twisted in a smirk as she brought her gaze to mine. “When I was little, I loved cupcakes.”

  “Doesn’t every kid?” Scott squinted at her, still holding her hand. Not that it bothered me or anything.

  “In kindergarten, that’s all she would eat. Those little chocolate cakes with the white squiggles on the top. She gave me her real lunch and only ate the cupcake. It was our little secret, so I started calling her cupcake, and it stuck.” She took care of me from the beginning, when my mother was too sick to pack a real lunch for me. I probably loved her even then, I just didn’t know what the hell it was. Brianna was my center. But all these years later, I didn’t expect her pull to be this powerful.

  “Well, I better go. You guys have fun.” Scott kissed Brianna’s lips before heading out the door, and I hated the burn of jealousy that filtered through my system. Coming back into Brianna’s life as a caveman wasn’t my intention. I had no right, not after twelve years, and definitely not after I withheld how I felt. Keeping it from her was the right thing to do, though, no matter how much it made me feel like shit right now.

  After Scott left, I followed Brianna as she crossed the living room. I dropped my gaze to her left hand and breathed a sigh of relief at the absence of a ring.

  “So.” She took in a deep breath and folded her hands under her chin, then turned to me once we were in her kitchen. “There’s so much I want to say . . . so much I want to tell you. I just . . . I feel like I’m dreaming.”

  I chuckled and squeezed her hand. “We have all night.” I pulled a seat out from her table and motioned for her to sit. “Or until you throw me out.” We both settled at the table and met each other’s gaze for a long minute.

  “No way. I can’t believe you’re back. And running your own business.”

  “Wait,” I raised my hands and shook my head. “It’s Uncle Billy’s business. I’m just the manager.”

  Brianna sucked her teeth as she frowned at me. “You always loved cars and bikes. I remember that afternoon at your house when you took apart an engine just to see if you could put it back together.”

  I laughed and shook my head. “Almost had it, too. I got shit from the old man when his car wouldn’t start the next day, though. Always the bad seed.”

  “No.” Brianna’s face hardened as she glared at me. “You weren’t. In fact, don’t panic, but I think you’re a success story now.” Her mouth twisted in a smirk.

  I gasped an exaggerated breath and clutched my chest. “Bite your tongue. God forbid. Who am I if I’m not the local douchebag?” I laughed but she frowned in response.

  Brianna leaned back in her chair and sighed. “You never were. Not to me. You had it rough and, yeah, got into some trouble.” She leaned over and rested her palm on my chest, over my heart. “That was always good. You could pretend with everyone else, but not with me. I’m proud of you.”

  I reached up and rested my hand on hers. A lump formed in my throat. When I left, that was all I wanted. I knew she was never ashamed of me, but I wanted her to see a man if I ever saw her again; a man with his shit together, who’d be worthy of her. Those four words from her lips were like hitting a jackpot to me. Unfortunately now, she was someone else’s fortune.

  “Enough about me.” I pulled my hand away and rested my elbows on the table. “I want to hear about you. You’re a writer now, right?”

  “Copywriter.” Brianna corrected me with a bit of an eye roll. “Fairly big agency. I get to work on some cool stuff. The billboard on Jersey Turnpike, just before Route Seventeen, I wrote that headline. I take a picture every time we drive by.”

  “That’s pretty cool. You’re famous.” I nudged her shoulder and she rolled her eyes.

  “Yeah, okay. Welcome to my mansion. Ugh!” She slapped her forehead with her palm.“I am the worst hostess ever. I should make you something to eat. Or drink. You walked in and I . . .”

  “You forgot everything else?” I gave her a playful wink and loved the giggle I got in return. “Pizza would be good for me. We have a lot of years to catch up on. You can make special mac and cheese for me another night.” I snickered and dropped my gaze to the table.

  “It was your idea to mix Ritz crackers with blue box mac and cheese, and you loved it.” Brianna stood from the table and narrowed her eyes at me. Her long brown hair was almost blonde now and cascaded off her shoulders in waves. The curves that nearly forced me to carry my book bag in front to hide the bulge in my pants were still spectacular, only now lean and toned. Same tiny waist, same perfect breasts, same cherry red lips turned down in a scowl when I teased her. It all drove me even crazier. I shifted in my seat, hoping she wouldn’t notice me adjusting myself under the table.

  “Sicilian still good?” Brianna smiled as she picked up the phone. “I have Coronas in the fridge, and a couple of limes too.”

>   I let out a sad chuckle and nodded, remembering our days at my house, watching sweet Brianna’s face twist in disgust when she took her first sip of beer. Coronas became her beer of underage choice at the time. At least that was one of her firsts that was all mine. Things happened the way they had to, but with her, I always wished they were different . . . better.

  “They said a half hour.” Brianna slid a bottle of beer in front of me, alongside three lime wedges on a tiny white plate.

  “So you like it? Being a copywriter, I mean? I always thought you’d be writing books now.”

  She shrugged. “I like it; it’s a job and I seem to be fairly good at it. I have a book done actually, the first draft anyway, I just can’t find the guts to do anything with it.”

  I squinted at her as I took a sip from the beer bottle. “You’re kidding me, right? What happened to the one you made me read in school?”

  She let out a long sigh and nodded. “That’s the one. To this day, you’re the only one who’s seen it, or even knows about it.”

  “Scott doesn’t know you like to write.” Since we were in grammar school, Brianna wrote constantly. Poems, riddles, we’d watch a show and she’d say, “What if it ended like this . . .” Granted, she annoyed the shit out of me sometimes, but her excitement was always adorable and infectious. I couldn’t see that not being a part of who she was anymore.

  “He’s more a corporate type of guy. Just started his own accounting firm with his brother. Writing, designing—he really doesn’t take it too seriously. He’d laugh his ass off if he knew about my book.” She shook her head with a sad laugh and took a long gulp of beer. “We’ve been together since college. He thought my creative writing classes were ‘cute’.” She held her fingers up in air quotes. “He wouldn’t be interested in reading my book.”

  “Are you guys . . . serious?” Trying to keep a casual tone while praying she said no was pretty fucking difficult.

  “It’s been a long time. So yeah, I think so.” Brianna nodded as she took a sip of beer.

  Hmm. “Yeah, I think so” didn’t sound so definite to me.

  “Give it to me.”

  Brianna drew back in her chair. “What?”

  “The book. You tortured me with it in school, at least grant me the courtesy of seeing how it ends.”

  Brianna laughed and shook her head. “Josh, you don’t have to—”

  “I want to. I’ll give you my email address. Send it to me and I’ll start right away. And I don’t know Scott that well, but he’s wrong. It takes talent to put words together that make people stop and pay attention. Whether it’s a billboard or a book, I think being able to do that is amazing.”

  Her cheeks flushed as she dropped her gaze to the floor. “Thank you.” She lifted her gaze again and smiled. The air whooshed out of my lungs thanks to the effect this girl still had on me.

  You’re amazing is what I wanted to say. And if Scott didn’t think so, I was about to give him a run for his money.

  Chapter 3

  Brianna

  “This place is pretty good. The guys and I came here after work last week. You should’ve seen their sick Halloween decorations. Spooky shit.” Scott laughed over his shoulder as the hostess led us to a table. This wasn’t exactly the type of restaurant for conversation. I was hoping for a nice, quiet dinner since I hadn’t seen much of Scott the past few weeks. He’d been working late almost every night and had to cancel the last two dates we’d planned.

  “I’m surprised you found the time.” I sat down at the table and opened the leather covered menu, holding in a scowl at his admission that burning the midnight oil involved hanging out at the new Latin fusion restaurant. Starting his own business meant lots of extra socializing after hours, and even though I understood and supported him completely, loneliness and bitterness were hard emotions to keep buried. Every so often, they seeped out in a snarky comment that left me hating myself afterwards.

  Scott picked up my hand and laced our fingers together. “We took that new client I told you about. You know I’d rather be out with my girl, right?”

  I nodded and squeezed his hand back. “Yes, of course. I just . . . miss you. That’s all.”

  “It will all be worth it in the end, babe. I promise.” Scott winked and dropped his gaze to the menu. “You’ve been working a lot, too. What campaign did you say you were on again?”

  “The children’s hospital.” Another not so great thing about having a boyfriend who was a new business owner was his lack of attention to anything I said. “I didn’t mind though, interviewing the kids was pretty inspiring. It was great to be a part of something like that.”

  Scott nodded without looking as he called the waitress over to take our order. I folded my hands under my chin in an effort to hide my irritation. It wasn’t the first time he shrugged off what I did for a living, but for some reason—at this moment—it did bother me. A lot.

  After she left, he turned his attention back to his iPhone, his fingers quickly dancing across the keys on his screen.

  “Sorry, babe. I need to learn to shut off emails at six.”

  “This company is taking a lot out of you.” I cocked my head. He’d passed the point of workaholic months ago. “You work twenty-four/seven.”

  A grin split his mouth as he shook his head. “It’s weird. It almost doesn’t seem like work to me.” The glint in his eye tugged at my heart. “When it’s your dream, and what you want to do, it’s different. Do you ever dream about doing anything?”

  “I wrote a book.” I blurted out to Scott’s puzzled expression.

  “A book?” Scott’s nose crinkled. “What, like a novel?”

  “Yes. I started it in high school and finished it during college.” All the inner turmoil at losing Josh fueled a good fifty thousand words in my spare time. They simply poured out, and since then collected over a decade’s worth of dust. I swallowed as I braced myself for the next revelation. “I . . . um . . . think I’d like to publish it.”

  For the first time since I’d known Scott, he was rendered speechless. He sat back in his chair, regarding me as though I just told him I had a pet unicorn.

  “You want to send it to a publisher?”

  “No, I’ll publish independently. I’ve been looking into it, and I think it’s doable. I just need an editor, and—”

  Scott’s brow pinched as he gazed at me. “You sure you want to do that, Bri? I’m sure there’s a lot more entailed and you’d open yourself up to all kinds of scrutiny.”

  “Why, because it’s most likely crap?” My jaw clenched as I rested my elbows on the table.

  Scott reached across the table and rubbed my forearm. “No, I didn’t say that. But you’re a beginner, and I’m sure it’s a tough thing to get into. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “You’re more than welcome to read it. At least do that before you make a judgment that I’m a beginner.” I narrowed my eyes and blinked back the angry tears. Writing a novel, to me, was one of those aspirational, but non-attainable, items you see catalogued on bucket lists. Tasks a person would name along with climbing Everest or hitting the lotto. Regardless if it was two hundred pages of garbage, it was an accomplishment I was proud of. I would’ve thought—or hoped—for a nod of recognition or a ‘hey, that’s pretty cool’ from my boyfriend.

  Scott laughed. “I doubt I’d have any useful input. Hey, if that’s what you want to do, go for it. That’s great.” He picked up my hand and kissed the back of my wrist. His gesture of support felt like a dismissal.

  I already regretted telling a second person the book existed.

  “I have two new chapters for you!” I handed Josh my spiral notebook and giggled at his long dramatic sigh.

  “How many abs does Leo have now, six or eight?” A smirk tickled the side of his mouth as he flipped through the pages.

  “He’s a hockey player. He has to be fit. And, it’s romance. The guys have to be good looking, idio
t.”

  “How about something for me? At least give Melissa double-D’s.” I smacked his shoulder as he snickered.

  “I’m probably boring you. Sorry.” I reached for the notebook to grab it back, but he shook his head and swatted me away.

  “I didn’t say that. You can’t get me interested and then take it away.” Josh tucked the book into his chest as he gave me a playful scowl.

  “Hey, guys.” Josh’s mom peeked into the living room, a warm smile spread across her lips. “Are you hungry?” It was good to see some color in her cheeks. The diabetes seemed to be improving in the past couple of months. Usually, Josh’s mom was in bed when I came over. “All I have are sugar free cookies for a snack.”

  “Only eat a couple of those, Bri. I learned that the hard way.” Josh crinkled his nose and his mom let out a chuckle.

  “I’m good, Mrs. Falco. Thank you.” She nodded and turned to go back into the kitchen.

  “She looks good,” I whispered to Josh.

  “Yeah, she does. She’s even been cooking. I just hope it lasts.” Josh’s voice trailed off as he stood from the couch.

  I did, too. Josh’s house felt lighter when Mrs. Falco wasn’t sick. The heavy gazes and furrowed brows added a good amount of unspoken tension. Josh and his dad revolved around his mother.

  “Listen, you don’t have to read it. It’s not like when we were kids and I shoved all my weird poems at you.”

  “It’s not bad. Better than the poems, that’s for shit sure.” Josh laughed as I smacked him again. “I like that you only show me. I feel like I’m in a secret club.” He smirked at me, making my seventeen-year-old heart swoon all over the place. His hair flopped over his hazel eyes as his broad chest rumbled with another laugh. I was falling more in love with him every day, and I was crap at hiding it.