The Best of Fools (Jane Austen Book 2)

by Marilyn Grey

  "I like the thrill of dares. But go ahead, ask me something."

  "How many have you kissed?"

  "Honestly?"

  He nodded.

  I let my eyes roam his face, down his neck, to his shoulders, and down his arms to his hands. He waited for me to answer, but I wasn't sure what to say. Technically I kissed two guys. But really Donovan kissed me. I never kissed back. And with Alistair ... with him I leaned in. I pressed my lips against his. I kissed him. Like I was about to now.

  I crossed the tub and came up beside him. He pulled me into him and the adrenaline from last night returned with even more intensity. I placed my hand on his chest and leaned up so that my lips were centimeters from the stubble on his cheek.

  "One," I whispered, then grazed his jaw line with my mouth.

  "One?" His hand wrapped around the back of my neck and pulled me closer.

  "One," I whispered again, this time against his lips.

  He closed his eyes and we kissed, passionately, as he tugged on my hair while I held onto his face. The water rippled around us and somehow bubbles even ended up in our mouths. But I didn't care.

  I didn't even care about tomorrow or the next day or the next year. I didn't care about anything but the feeling of him against me.

  It was good. So good.

  Right now.

  It was us.

  And for all I knew ... tomorrow might not come. So I embraced the moment.

  I embraced him.

  He pulled me on top of him and kissed my neck while I traced his eyelids with my fingers. The water gently splashed against the sides of the tub and the room filled with the sound of our breathing. Every inhale and exhale only made me want him more. And tomorrow less.

  And I can't tell you how beautiful it was to be there with him, writing a love story I would actually read, and making memories of us in the process.

  I leaned back. Smiled. And took another picture with my mind.

  Chapter 41

  The third morning I woke up next to him I couldn't go back to sleep. It was four in the morning, but I knew he planned to go home the next morning so he could go back to work. Exactly what I worried about had finally happened. I dreaded him leaving. As I watched him sleep with the early morning moonlight on his face, I played the scene in my head. Kissing me goodbye at the airport. Several times because one goodbye is never enough. The emptiness that would settle in as he walked away, then sink in even more as his plane landed across the ocean, then just pretty much reside in my heart from then on.

  Was it all worth it? A few days of fun?

  I tried to sleep. I really did. But my eyes were still open when the sun woke him up. Or maybe it was the ambulance that drove by.

  "Morning beautiful girl," he whispered and kissed my head. "Sleep well?"

  I ran my fingers along his arm and hand, then back up to his shoulder and along his chest, where I finally settled on the Carpe Diem tattoo near his heart. Locusts hissed in the background as a September breeze swept through the air, billowing the curtains as it cooled the room. It was crisp and comfortable. Perfect.

  "Why so serious?" he said, turning to his side to face me.

  I tried to make eye contact, but the wall around my heart struggled to rebuild itself and I didn't know how to stop it.

  He moved a strand of hair behind my ear and kept his arm against my neck. "Jane. It's okay."

  "No." I shook my head. Was I really about to cry? "It's not okay. I can't do this."

  "Do ... this?"

  "This. Us. I knew this would happen."

  "We'll make it work." He wiped the tear from my face. "We'll do this."

  I closed my eyes. "I can't deal with missing you, Alistair. There's this pain in my chest just thinking about it. I don't know if—"

  He kissed me, then pulled me into the crook of his arm. "I always finish what I start."

  "That's just the thing ... I don't want it to finish."

  "We're going to make it. Stop worrying." He kissed the top of my head again. "We're going to be okay."

  The day wasn't normal. And it wasn't okay. No matter how much both of us tried to pretend that it was. We met up with Donovan and Han at her apartment and I'm sure even Don knew something was up. At the same time, it felt nice to have somewhat of a boyfriend—was he my boyfriend?—while Don had a girlfriend. We spent most of the afternoon talking in the living room, then Donovan and Han decided to make us dinner.

  I was thankful to have more alone time with Alistair.

  He nodded toward her piano. An old, beaten piano taking up most of her apartment. I shook my head. Didn't know how to play anything. At all.

  { Readers - You can LISTEN to this scene by clicking here }

  "You need to start somewhere," he said, nodding toward the intimidating thing. "Go on."

  "I really can't play at all. I'm horrible."

  "Try." He took my hand and led me to the piano bench. "Sit."

  I sat down and placed my hands on the keys. "I really don't—"

  He covered my eyes. "Keep them closed." He removed his hands. "Now find a note you like. Just one."

  I pressed a few keys until I found one.

  "Now. Relax." He shook my shoulders to loosen me up and kept his hands there. "Now play what you feel. Don't think. Don't open your eyes. Only play what you feel."

  I pressed the single note again and zeroed in on the way his hands felt on my shoulders. I pressed again. The note was on the lower end of the piano and had a deep, sad resonance. Then I hit another key a few up from that. Alistair leaned over me. His chest warmed my back as he told me to keep my eyes closed and then placed his hands over mine. My right hand came into play. I replayed everything from the airport on my birthday to the surprise at the new shop. Our first kiss. The old woman. Batman marathons. Popcorn fights. Plenty of cuppas. And laughter. Lots of laughter.

  He let go of my hands and held my shoulders again.

  My hands moved left and right. The notes turned deeper again as I pictured saying goodbye. He said we'd make it work, but he lived off of hope and believed the glass was not only half full, but overflowing.

  I stopped, breathed in and out, then continued playing until I felt Donovan and Han's presence near me. Embarrassed, I opened my eyes and stared at my hands. Alistair sat down beside me, placed his fingers on the keys, and started where I left off.

  Only he took it further. Louder. Happier and sadder all at once. His eyes were closed and he played effortlessly. Drums, guitar, piano, singing, symphonies. What couldn't he do? I loved it. I felt it. Every high note and every low note. Every meaning behind it.

  When he finished he looked at me, hands still on the keys. Our eyes searched each other's for a few seconds, then I kissed his cheek and whispered, "Why so serious?"

  He nearly smiled, but didn't quite make it all the way.

  I so wanted to know what he was thinking.

  Donovan and Han must had disappeared into the kitchen again, leaving us alone to be so serious. We stared, barely blinking. I don't know about him, but I was holding on to the moment, capturing it and filing it in my mind. Memories always worried me too. I could take a thousand pictures with my mind, but what if I lost my mind and all of my memories with it? What if—one day—I couldn't remember him?

  After dinner Alistair excused himself to go to the bathroom and Don finally asked me how things were going with a goofy smile on his face.

  Our friendship endured many ups and downs and I can honestly say that for the first time ever it felt like a friendship and nothing more. Except it felt right this time. Like it should've been that way all along.

  I nodded and looked at my lap.

  "Look at Han and me," he said, taking her hand. "A boat load of obstacles to overcome, but we're together and we'll face them together. That's all that matters."

  She smiled that sweet smile of hers and leaned her head into his shoulder.

  "But you two live in the same country," I said. "It's a lot different." />
  "Do you love him, Jazz?"

  "Sometimes when you love someone the best thing you can do is let them go."

  "Sometimes," he said. "But sometimes that's the worst thing too."

  "Sometimes it's hard to tell the difference."

  "And sometimes it's not."

  Chapter 42

  I tried, with everything in me, to enjoy our last night together, but it was weird. Just no getting around it. All I could think about was ... what's next? A Skype relationship? I didn't want that. I also couldn't leave the shop after what everyone did for me. And ask him to move to America? I couldn't ask that of him either. Especially considering how complicated it seemed from my quick Internet search. Maybe if we got married it would be easier, but that wouldn't be happening anytime soon.

  So, that left a Skype relationship and maybe a few visits when we could afford it.

  Donovan said it was better than nothing. Not to me. Absence hurts like hell. I was already missing Autumn like crazy. I sent her so many texts and would hear back hours later. Something like, I'm busy, but we'll talk soon. Promise.

  That promise hadn’t decided to show up yet.

  I didn't want to carry out a long-distance relationship over months and months only to be devastated when it ended. Everyone kept saying I was being immature. Even Mom and Dad told me to let it be and enjoy it for what it was, not that I fully trusted their opinions about romance with their heads being in the clouds and all, but still. Why didn’t anyone realize how painful it is to let someone in only to watch them walk away without the promise of returning?

  Actually he did promise. He said he’d come back and visit in a few months. He promised we’d make it work. But to me those promises felt empty, like Autumn’s promise that we’d talk later. She had a new life. New friends. New boyfriend, knowing her. Her schedule was crazy and that promise wasn’t something I held dear, because I knew better.

  “Am I being immature?” I said to myself as Alistair took a shower before bed.

  My other self couldn’t respond, because no part of myself knew how to answer that question. Was I being immature? Was I being unreasonable? Difficult? Childish? Totally unromantic and boring?

  “I’m just being me,” I said.

  I sent Autumn another text. Hey. Hope you’re doing well. Miss you lots.

  And of course I stared at the phone waiting for a response only to not receive one. So, I sent Donovan a message instead. Why can’t I just love him, Don? He’s so amazing. He’s so sweet to me. The way it feels when he’s in the same room as me … it’s all so good. Why can’t I just be normal???

  He responded quickly and said, Because you’re not.

  Me: Thanks.

  Him: I don’t know, Jazz. I’ve heard you say “no, no … not that jane austen” so many times in your life. Maybe you’ve been so preoccupied with not being someone, that you haven’t allowed yourself to just be you.

  Me: What does that even mean???

  Him: It means … do what YOU want to do. If you want to overthink things and complicate it and make it like that, then do it with 100% of you and enjoy the little webs you get stuck in or … if you want to live in the moment and fall in love with lover boy, then do it with 100% of you. Just figure out what you want and do it. 100%.

  Me: What if all I do is fail? Do that with 100% too?

  Him: Yup. Fail passionately if you’re gonna fail!

  Me: I kinda like this advice.

  Him: Good. Now stop texting me and go find your lover boy.

  Me: He’s in the shower.

  Him: Even more reason to find him. ;-)

  Me: Mmmhmmm … thanks, D. Love you.

  Him: Love you too, DUCK! Hahaha…

  Me: Okay, done now.

  Him: Quack.

  Me: Byeeee Donovan.

  Him: :-D

  Alistair came back into my room fully clothed and no, I did not take a shower with him. Tempting, but it was still afternoon and I was a little too self-conscious about my body to let him see it for the first time in the broad daylight. That would be during a nice candlelit moment when it just happened and was just right and the soft glow would make me look better than I actually was.

  Half-kidding.

  "I thought of a going away gift for you," he said as he ran his hand through his wet hair.

  "You've already bought me so much."

  "Just something little." He dropped his bag by my bed. "Also, I'm going to come back in October. It's only a month and a half away."

  "Only...."

  He stood right in front of me and held my wrists. "We'll talk every day."

  I grabbed his hands and pressed my forehead against his chest. "How does it happen so fast?"

  "Time flies when you're having fun."

  "No, I mean how did this ... happen so fast?" I looked at his bare feet next to mine. "One day I saw you in the airport, and the next I can't be without you."

  He pulled my chin up and searched my eyes. "Well, actually it's been a few months."

  "You know what I mean."

  "Yes, I know what you mean, but I don't know the answer. "

  He moved his hands down to my neck and held one there, while slipping the other one behind my back. I wrapped my arms around him and fell into his embrace. Maybe it had only been a few months, but at the same time it felt like we had known each other for a lifetime.

  "It's definitely the kiss," he said into my hair.

  "What?"

  "I knew I'd win you over with that kiss."

  "Probably practiced with your pillow, huh?"

  "No. I'm too posh for that." He started kissing my neck, then stopped to say, "Taped your picture to my mirror and went to town."

  I laughed, but quickly stopped as the warmth of his lips continued to take over my neck and shoulders. He pulled my shirt down a little and kissed me where I got my first tattoo. With him. Then he made a trail of kisses back to my lips. I'm not sure at what point we ended up on the floor against my bed, but we did.

  The passion between us elevated so fast and yet it never felt rushed. He took his time and every kiss from him seemed to have meaning and emotion behind it. Not once did I feel used or groped or like just another body. I felt loved and enjoyed and desired. Every time.

  And I didn't want it to end. I really, really, really didn't want it to end.

  Chapter 43

  The drive to the airport was as fast as the morning at my apartment. We didn't say much until it was too late. He needed to go and my heart was exploding with so many different emotions. My hands trembled and my voice cracked as he tried to pull away to say goodbye. But I pulled him back and everything I'd felt and thought the entire week needed to come out.

  "You're killing me." He held my face. "Be strong for me. We can do this."

  I sucked in my bottom lip and nodded. Strong, yes. That's me. Jane. Strong. Totally strong. I can do this. Can. Do. This.

  "Alistair, I can't do this."

  "You can." He looked over his shoulder. "I've really got to get on now. We can do this, Jane."

  I didn't cry. I wanted to. I even felt a puddle of tears somewhere behind my eyes, but it didn't happen. It was too fast. We were late for his flight. Literally ran into the airport. It wasn't the goodbye I expected.

  It was all a blur. Then he walked away, looking over his shoulder and crushing my heart with those eyes. I hated it. Whoever the hell said absence makes the heart grow fonder doesn't know a thing about the heart. Fonder is not the word. Crushed, broken, confused. Those would fit better. I didn't need time apart to grow closer to him. I needed time with him. I wanted time with him.

  I could no longer see him, so I turned in a circle as dozens of people walked by me. I watched others say goodbye and some say hello, then I sent him a text, hoping he still had his phone turned on.

  Take care of my heart while I'm gone.

  Your heart is safe with me, he typed back.

  Me:I miss you.

  Him:I miss you too, little duck
.

  Back to work I went. Immediately. It's what I like to call "avoiding reality." Very healthy.

  I left the airport and went straight to the shop, blared some Chopin, got familiar with everything, and ordered the sign for the front. 1812. Then I did a bunch of paperwork. I figured I'd work the shop myself until sales started to happen, then maybe hire Brooke and Han to help and come sew with me. If sales started to happen. Bigif there.

  I hadn't slept in my bed alone since I got the new apartment. Didn't want to go home for that very reason. Autumn still hadn't responded to me and I was getting a little frustrated. Donovan and Han were preparing for a trip to Korea so he could meet her family. Gulp. So I couldn't vent and whine to him. That left my parents and Eddie who I hadn't talked to since Alistair came and I was kinda avoiding that too. Their advice would be too idealistic for me to follow and I didn't want to feel like a romantic let down. But Eddie's advice ... I didn't even think of that one. He'd probably be ho-hum. And for whatever reason I felt like I could use a generous dose of ho-hum.

  So I finished everything I needed to do and set next Monday as the grand opening for 1812. I was scared out of my ever-loving mind, but I figured if I failed again I could run away to an English countryside.

  In the car I put on Carl Davis and the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra's movie theme album, beginning with the Forrest Gump theme. My favorite theme song outside of Batman. Oh man. That climactic part of the song made me want to grab my cape and soar. So beautiful and triumphant. After that I moved back to Danny Elfman's Spider-Man and by the time it ended I was parked at my parent's house.

  I glanced at my phone before I went inside. 5:12p.m. His flight was set to land at 6:30pm my time, 11:30pm his time.

  Literally counting down the minutes to talk to him again, while also pretending that I wasn't.

  Mom greeted me at the door. Dad and Eddie looked up from a game of Risk.

  "Oh, no," I said. "Not Risk."

  "Fourth day," Eddie said. "And I'm not backing down."

  Dad laughed. "He's losing."