by Lauren Runow
“Not like this.”
“Then, like what then?”
“You’ll never get it. I’m not going to stand here and fight for you to love me.” He walks around me and heads toward the front of my apartment.
“That’s right. Run. Your mother’s right. You are a typical Libra who can’t handle not being the center of attention. If you’re not the center of my damn universe, then you don’t want in at all. I’m willing to give you what I can. It’s you who wants more. Well, we’re not Cassiopeia and Cepheus. I’m not going to fling myself into the heavens for some egomaniac.”
He stops to glare at me, and I know I’ve gone too far.
When he turns to leave again without saying another word, I try to stop him. “Wait, Jake. Don’t go.”
“Good-bye, Lace.”
“Fuck. No. Wait. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”
He stops and turns again. “You know what your problem is? You’re stuck in your own head. And I’m not talking about your stories. Your past and why you’re living this lie are totally bullshit. I’m not Michael. I’m not your father or that stupid fuck you lost your virginity to in high school. I’m Jake Moreau, and up until five minutes ago, I was convinced I was in love with you. Call me insecure, but, yeah, when I’m with a woman, I want to be her whole damn world, and I refuse to be punished for wanting so. Damn, you have so much to love, Lacey; it’s a shame you can’t even see it.”
“Jake—”
He keeps walking and then says over his shoulder, “Don’t come knocking on my door. I won’t be there.”
“Can’t you just—”
He slams the door in my face, stopping me suddenly. I place my palms on it and let the tears fall freely.
You don’t realize the power someone has over you until they leave you. I protected myself from getting hurt again, only to find my heart more broken than it’s ever been.
This is why I don’t do relationships. Every great romance has a breakup scene. In fiction, you can write about the couple getting back together. In the real world, they slam doors and hate each other.
I don’t need him, I tell myself. Then, why do I feel so fucking miserable?
I walk back into my kitchen, this time not wanting a cup of coffee. I need the hard stuff. As I’m grabbing a glass, I see the damn manuscript on the counter. Instead of the title page being on top, there’s a printout of an email. It’s from Charisse and addressed to Jake at the flower shop.
Lifting it up, I read the subject line.
For Jake Moreau only.
In the body is a simple message:
Don’t let her convince you she doesn’t believe in love.
She does. And you’re the man who changed her.
For the first time in years, I cry.
A tear falls because of my meddling best friend who had to go and stick her nose in my business.
More come as I remember how used I felt when Michael walked out the door.
I sob when I think about my father and how he barely put forth the effort to be my dad.
That feeling I had the other day in the car, the one where I felt the ground leaving me, is back. Except, this time, I can’t hold on to my chest and steady it. My entire insides feel like they’re dropping down to my feet.
I’m falling apart. Body and soul, I come undone as I realize the only man I was willing to put my heart on the line for walked away from me, like everyone else.
Chapter Twenty-Two
JAKE
I’m the kind of guy who is looking for his dream girl. For me, she’s a classically put together, ultra-feminine woman who is polite, alluring, and socially confident.
That’s why when Lacey Camille “Rivers” Wampo knocked on my door a few years ago, I wasn’t worried about her stealing my heart. Her hair was a mess, she had a stain on the front of her sweatshirt, and one look at me in that seafoam-green towel left her speechless—and not in the captivating way. She was a fumbling mess, but it made me smile.
While she certainly left an impression, I wasn’t going to hit on my elusive neighbor, especially when she seemed to go out of her way to avoid me at all costs. Sure, she said the casual hello—when it was rude not to. And if my mail was left in her slot, she’d kindly send it my way.
Did I think she was cute? Hell yes. She had long brown hair, big green eyes, and a gorgeous smile, but I never planned to touch her.
Then, she knocked on my door the night of my party.
Man, her fist could have taken the thing down. I was going to say something witty when I opened the door and saw her hand still in the air, ready to rattle the steel, but the one-liner I had prepared vanished.
There was something about her then.
When she showed up at my door, looking a mess—yet sexy as hell—I knew I was in trouble. Her skin was flush, her eyes were large and bright, and those lips were puckered, drawing my attention to how full they were.
Now, I love to dress nice, and I appreciate a woman who does, too, yet there was no denying the way her breasts looked in that tank top and how the yoga pants hugged her hips. Yes, I always thought she was cute, but in that moment, something clicked.
It might have been the determined attitude she had. A woman on a mission was sexy as fuck. Then, I found out she was a romance novelist, and my intrigue level surged. She was the creative type, and I wanted to learn more.
I kept our greetings friendly, but every time I saw her in the hall, I’d spend the rest of the night thinking about her, wondering what she did all day in that apartment of hers. I wanted so badly to get to know her better, and slowly but surely, that wall I kept up, keeping her as my friendly—yet cute—neighbor, broke away piece by piece.
When I found myself in Lacey’s apartment, getting limejuice for the yoga instructor I had planned to take to bed that night, all I wanted to do was sit and talk to her, get to know her. I had a sure thing waiting for me, and I couldn’t have cared less. When I got back to my place, I cut the date short and ended up driving her home after one drink. I knew my head was focused on Lacey, and I wasn’t going to string anyone else along.
Then, she kissed me.
Holy fucking shit, did she kiss me.
Her lips were like velvety cushions, and her tongue tasted of wine. My hands caressed those curves I knew she liked to hide, and, damn, I wanted to touch them all.
Maybe it was because Lacey was a hard girl to read, but I fell for her cat-and-mouse tease. She wouldn’t just go out with me. Everything became a game—a series of us telling each other what to do and seeing if the other would go along with it. They might have been more friends hanging out than dates, but with each, I fell harder every time.
Lacey thinks we’ve only been dating a week, yet she had me at a ferocious knock on the door.
I thought she was as into me as I was into her.
Finding out the TikTok kiss wasn’t even her idea, I’m not gonna lie, it stung. Here I thought, she was finally giving in to the same attraction I’d felt all this time, only to learn I was merely the closest available guy.
I’m such an idiot.
I pull up to the cottage, needing to get away. Both of my sisters’ cars are here, and I consider driving off, but I have nowhere else to go. Plus, I actually like my family. Having them around isn’t a burden at all.
“What are you doing here?” Milène asks when I walk inside.
“Felt like getting away for a few. Why are you still here?”
“Wayne’s parents decided to keep the kids a few extra days. They’ll be coming up tomorrow.” She takes my duffel bag and puts it on the chair in the foyer. “You hungry? We had meatloaf for dinner, and there’s plenty of leftovers.”
“No, thanks. I’m good.” I keep my tone even. I don’t want to ruin anyone’s day with my melodrama. “Who else is here?”
“Just me, Wayne, and Penelope. She’s heading out tomorrow. We’re all like a bunch of ships passing in the night. It’s amazing we can keep track of who’s coming and g
oing.” She laughs as I follow her into the kitchen. “I thought you had to be at the shop.”
“I was. I worked today and then drove here.”
She washes her hands in the sink. “Everything okay at your apartment?”
Grabbing a beer from the refrigerator, I pop the top and wonder if I should share my bullshit with her. “I’m just looking for some space.”
“Damn it,” she says with a huff.
“What?”
“You broke up,” she states, looking genuinely disappointed. “I really liked this one. She’s not like some of the princesses you’ve brought around. Lacey was so down-to-earth.”
So down-to-earth, yet she refuses to let her heart out of her concrete chest.
“Well, we had a disagreement, and for the record, her best friend is on my side, so I know I did nothing wrong.”
“What does she think you did?”
“Told her I loved her.” I take a swig and watch my sister’s mouth form an O in understanding.
I’m drinking, and Milène is still making that face as Wayne comes in.
“What’s up, brother?” he says. We slap hands, and then Wayne grabs a beer from the fridge. “What brings you here tonight?”
“He and Lacey broke up.”
Wayne looks at his wife, confused. “They were just here, banging in the hot tub.”
“Wayne!” she chastises, and I have to laugh.
“Didn’t think anyone heard that,” I say with a grin, recalling that night. It’s amazing how my relationship with Lacey went from that to this.
Wayne laughs. “Just us. Our window is right above the hot tub. This one”—he points to his wife—“wanted the window open to get the lake breeze. She got that and a few moans.”
While my relationship with my sister is really good, this is a little too intimate, even for me. “Lucky for you, you won’t be hearing any more of that. She and I are through.”
Wayne raises a shoulder. “No big deal. You probably have another woman lined up already.”
“He told her he loved her,” Milène explains, but Wayne doesn’t seem affected.
“Shit happens. The guy knows half of Chicago. I’m sure he can get laid pretty easily and forget her.” Wayne’s words do not appear to be going over well with Milène.
I interject before she yells at him, “The guy’s right. In fact, I should make it a point and bring as many women as possible home with me, so I can walk past her door and let her see just how desirable I am to other women.”
Wayne lifts his beer to cheers me. “That’s a horrible idea, but I will support it.” We tap the necks of our bottles and then take a drink. With his mouth hidden behind the bottle, he mumbles toward me, “I’m only saying it’s horrible because my wife is standing right there.”
Milène crumples a napkin and throws it at his head. “You’re a fool.”
The two bicker, which turns into some funny jabs at each other. That’s the way they are. They fight like an old married couple yet still laugh like they did when they first started dating.
“Come on, Jake. We’re going out.” Wayne puts his bottle on the counter and starts walking out of the kitchen. He talks over his shoulder, “Honey, don’t wait up. I’m doing my brother-in-law duty and getting this guy out of his slump.”
“I’m not in a slump, but I’ll come out.” I toss my empty bottle in the recycling bin and follow him out the front door.
“Don’t drink and drive,” Milène calls out to us. “Take an Uber home if you must. We’ll get the car in the morning.”
He turns back and gives his wife a kiss good-bye, thanking her for being the best, which is all just to butter her up because she really is a great wife to him. The guy lives a pretty carefree life.
We get to the bar, and it’s slightly packed. The music is blaring, and the drinks are flowing. Wayne and I take a seat at the bar and order draft beers.
We shoot the shit for the most part. Last week’s football game. Yesterday’s baseball game. He tells me he saw Hamilton on the television, and we talk about history for a while.
“So, you’re really hung up on this girl?” he asks on our second round.
I bring the bottle to my lips, saying, “Yep,” before I take a drink.
“Listen, I get it. I’ve been a sucker for Milène since I first met her. You don’t have to explain instant love to me. I might act like a buffoon, but that woman has me wrapped around her finger. Did you notice she finally got me to cut my hair?”
I nod as I look at his new style. The guy had taken a break from cutting it and was starting to achieve a mullet.
He runs his hand through the short locks. “The things you do for women.”
A hard, quick laugh escapes my lips. “I believe it. I would have shaved my head if Lacey had asked, and trust me when I say, I do not have any desire to chop this off.” I run my hands through my thick hair. I have good hair and would like to keep it.
“So, what happened?”
I lean back in the chair and shrug. “She doesn’t do relationships, yet we found ourselves deep into one real quick.”
“Then, what?”
“I told her how I felt, and she freaked out.”
He chuckles under his breath. “You’re telling me that after all the women you’ve dated, you finally found someone worth sticking around for, and she’s the one who broke it off?”
“Actually, I think she would have been fine, living in her bubble.”
Wayne knocks his knuckles on the wood as he looks down at the bar. “Well, if you want a distraction, there’s a pretty little redhead with her eyes on you.”
I glance down the bar and see just that. A very attractive woman with curly red hair is smiling at me. “You really think a one-night stand will do the trick?”
“Hell if I know. I’ve never had one, but if you could fall for Lacey so fast, maybe you’ll surprise yourself by meeting your next dream girl tonight.”
I have doubts I’ll feel better after doing this, but I get off the stool, walk over to the redhead, and introduce myself.
“Catrina,” she says and extends a hand. “You from around here?”
“Chicago. You?”
“Same. I’m an interior designer.”
“Florist.” I hold up my beer and nod.
And this is how it goes. Catrina is here with friends, who are at a table, talking. She was just at the bar, getting a drink, when she saw me. She’s single and in her late twenties, and she lives with her cat. She’s wearing a pretty green dress, and she’s very talkative. Interesting even.
She’s a classically put together, ultra-feminine woman who is polite, alluring, and socially confident.
But she’s no Lacey.
While Catrina is talking, I’m picturing Lacey in that golden dress, the one she wore on the date with the guy who wasn’t me. The thought of her going out with another man and wearing that damn dress eats away at me. She looked so gorgeous that night. Hell, I found her stunning in just a pair of sweats. You can’t hide beauty like hers. Not under all the wine stains in the world.
As Catrina practically purrs as she speaks, I can still hear Lacey’s voice. She has this shy quality to it when she’s uncomfortable or nervous. That’s when I knew she liked me, and later, I found it was the same when she was turned on. Her voice was breathy, and it made me wild.
As I got to know Lacey more, she was more than polite, alluring, and confident. She was funny and sincere. Her joy was found in things she loved and in what I wanted to do. I could experience life with Lacey. Conversations never had a lull, and when we were in silence, we were content.
And the sex … fuck, the sex was amazing. Maybe I’m the fool. I should have just lived in her loveless bubble and had all the sex I wanted. That way, I could get her mind and her body.
But I’d never have her heart.
Catrina is talking about something, and I feel like shit because I spaced out. I have no idea what she was saying.
“I’m sor
ry. Can you repeat that?” I ask her.
“My friends want to stay, but I want to get out of here. I have to be up early.”
I know it’s bullshit. She wants me to offer to bring her home, and it will be followed by an invitation up to her place. I know this is a line because I’ve heard it before. And I’ve gone along with it.
Tonight, I don’t have it in me.
“I can give you the number to a local taxi company,” I offer, and she looks displeased.
“You wouldn’t happen to be heading out anytime soon, would you?” she asks, batting her lashes.
I turn around and look at Wayne, who’s watching us with interest. He’ll probably tell me I’m crazy for turning her down. The guy has never had the carefree bachelor life and lives vicariously through me.
“No. I’ll be hanging with my brother-in-law for a while. I should get back to him. It was nice meeting you.” I turn around and go back to Wayne, who’s staring at me with raised brows and his arms out. I shake my head. “She’s getting over a bad breakup and not looking for anything right now. If you’re good to go, I am too. I’m really tired.”
Like a good friend, he just nods, tosses some peanuts from the bowl on the bar into his mouth, and slaps a twenty on the bar for the bartender as a tip. “Let’s get out of here then.”
When we get home, I thank him for his company, and he heads up to his room. I might have said I was tired before, but the truth is, I’m wired, so I get another drink from the refrigerator and head out to the back deck.
The stars are bright tonight. I sit in an Adirondack chair and look up at the constellations.
“Hey, bro.”
I’m startled as Penelope appears, heading over to the seat next to me. She nudges my leg and then sits beside me.
I glance in her direction. “I take it, Milène told you, so I don’t have to fill you in?”
She nods. “She did. You okay?”
I shrug and look back up at the stars, of course seeing Cassiopeia staring back at me. “I’m okay with her not saying she loves me back. I get it. But I need to know that she might love me one day. She couldn’t even give me that.”