Melt With Me: A With Me In Seattle Universe Novel

by Melissa Brown

  “Wait, do you mean he never told you that you were beautiful?”

  “Not once.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Dead serious. Not one time.” I shook my head. “Not sure what the hell I was thinking spending years of my life with that guy.”

  “So, that’s it. You don’t trust compliments… You think everyone’s just trying to make you feel better about something.”

  “Um…” My mouth felt dry. I licked my ice cream again. “I’d never really thought about it, but yeah, maybe.”

  “Look, I’m not going to pretend that I know what it felt like to grow up with a mother like yours…we both know that if I did, I’d be full of shit. But what I can say is that every compliment I’ve ever given you, I’ve meant. Sincerely, from the heart. I’ve meant every single one.”

  “Wow,” I said, feeling heat rise in my cheeks and a warm feeling building in my core. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Just try, okay? Try to believe me…believe Lyra, believe your sisters. Because, even though we both know they wanted to protect you, all three of them think you’re pretty awesome. And Jackson is a fucking moron for letting you slip through his fingers.”

  “This conversation really took a turn, huh?” I said, shifting in my seat.

  “Mare.”

  “Okay, okay.” I held my hands up, my fingers clutching my dripping cone. “I’ll try, I promise. We all have our things, though, right?”

  “You’re right,” Peter said, licking the icy rich-brown speckled ice cream from his spoon. “What’s my thing?”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “You’re too trusting.”

  “What?”

  “You see the good in everyone, and although that’s a good quality, it can run amok in…certain situations.”

  “Like letting friends without boundaries meddle in my love life?” he asked, clenching his teeth and blushing just a bit.

  “Maybe,” I said. “It seems like she’s backed off, though. At least for now.”

  “I told her to,” he deadpanned.

  “You did?”

  “Mmm-hmm,” he said, scooping another bite of ice cream from his dish. “I’d had enough of her shit, and I told her so.”

  “When?”

  He shrugged. “A few weeks ago.”

  I said nothing but nodded, appreciating the boundaries Peter had set.

  “Actually, do you remember the night I showed up at your place and kissed you?”

  “The night you left me all riled up?” I teased. “How could I forget?”

  “I came to your place right afterward.”

  “Oh.”

  “So….since I’m working on my…thing. Maybe you could work on yours.”

  “Yeah, maybe I can.”

  “Okay, I’m going to give you a compliment. You ready?”

  I took a deep breath, narrowing my eyes playfully at Peter, sitting up straight in my chair. “Sure, I mean…okay, fine.”

  “You’re beautiful and brilliant. You’re business savvy with a sharp sense of humor that can keep just about anyone on their toes. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, Maren.”

  I swallowed hard, my heart pounding furiously in my chest. Every nerve in my body was on fire as I stared at him, not sure what to say. Part panic, part elation, I leaned forward and grabbed Peter’s shirt, pulling him in for a kiss.

  “I don’t know what to say,” I said finally, tears forming in my eyes.

  “Just say thank you,” he whispered, his voice so gentle as he tucked my hair behind my ear before and placed another gentle kiss on my lips.

  “Thank you, Peter.” I sighed, one tear slipping down my cheek as I nodded slowly. “Thank you.”

  Chapter 24

  PETER

  I was finally ready to do it. I was ready to try Bikram yoga one more time to see if I could make it through the entire class without passing out and acting like a drunk twelve-year-old as Maren tried to nurse me back to consciousness. I could tell she was in no hurry to relive that experience by the texts she was sending me all afternoon.

  12:02 p.m. Did you drink water at lunch? Don’t forget your electrolytes!

  2:45 p.m. Seriously, drink lots of water.

  5:15 p.m. See you in a bit. Did I mention you should probably hydrate? ;)

  After filling my enormous water bottle three times and forcing down two giant bottles of sports drink, my bladder was getting quite a workout of its own. In fact, I was pretty sure the receptionist near the men’s room thought I had some sort of infection…or the runs by how often I was running to the bathroom. But it was all worth it. I was going to prove to Maren, and more importantly, to myself, that I could handle, and maybe even excel at, Bikram yoga.

  After stopping home to change, I arrived at the yoga studio, full bottle of water in hand. I could feel the sweltering heat surround me as I entered the room with only a couple of minutes to spare. Maren looked gorgeous—her hair was up in a messy bun, her face was free of makeup as she stretched on her yoga mat. Just as I was about to approach her, I saw him. Jackson. Our eyes locked and he paused, he laughed to himself, his expression cocky and overconfident, and I knew that in that second he remembered me from that night at Maren’s shop. He walked to Maren, reaching her first. And so I stopped and studied her, waiting to see her reaction.

  I trusted Maren, I did. But no part of me trusted Jackson. He wanted her back, and that was very clear. But she’d never mentioned that he attended the class and it gave me pause. Had she hidden that detail from me? Was it sheer coincidence that he wasn’t there the one time I’d attended class. Maren tightened her bun as they spoke. Her cheeks were pink, but with the sultry temperature of the studio, I had to let that go. Instead of sitting back and watching Jackson attempt to move in on her, I got my head out of my ass and strolled over to her, my hand grazing her elbow as I approached. She lit up when she saw me, and a satisfied smile crawled across my lips.

  “Peter, you made it.” She hugged me tightly and whispered in my ear, “I don’t know why he’s here. I’m sorry.”

  I kissed her cheek and gave her a wink, wanting her to know it was fine. I was secure. I was confident. And I wouldn’t let Jackson Whatever-His-Name-Is intimidate me.

  “I don’t believe we’ve met,” I said, extending my hand. “Peter McTavish, Maren’s boyfriend.”

  “Jackson Palomino,” he said, reluctantly shaking my hand before releasing it and running his hands through his black hair. If I was honest with myself, the guy could pass for a Greek god. His skin was deep and tan, his face clean shaven and he was wearing a muscle T-shirt and skintight yoga pants. I was nowhere near as muscular or toned as Jackson, but I didn’t care. He was an asshole, and Maren knew it. He didn’t worry me.

  “Maren,” Luna, the instructor, called over to us. “Can you help me with something?”

  Maren bit down on her bottom lip and turned to me, her eyes conflicted. I gave her a self-assured wink and tilted my head toward Luna. Maren let out an obvious sigh of relief and kissed me on the cheek.

  “That’s cute,” Jackson said, his voice deep and snide. Exactly as I envisioned in my mind.

  “I’m sorry, did you say something?” I asked, remaining casual, unaffected.

  “Oh nothing, I’m just surprised is all.”

  “Surprised?”

  “Well, the Maren I know doesn’t need to baby her boyfriend.”

  “Excuse me?” I crossed my arms in front of my chest, feeling my blood pressure rise. This asshole was getting under my skin.

  Calm down, McTavish.

  “Nothing,” he said with a brash chuckle. “So, she has you taking yoga with her, huh?”

  I tilted my head forward, raising both eyebrows and leaving them there. “That’s right. Problem?”

  “Of course not. Hope you can stomach it; Bikram can be a bitch.”

  “I’m surprised to see you here, actually,” I said, stretching one arm across my chest and pressing it toward me with the other. �
�Maren said she tried to get you into this for years.”

  “Oh she did, did she?” He glanced over at Maren, who was still talking to Luna. He made a point of staring at her just a little too long, lowering his gaze to her ass.

  Arrogant, entitled son of a bitch.

  “So why the sudden interest in yoga? Change of heart?” I asked, narrowing my eyes as I coolly stretched out my other arm. He knew I was referring to Maren, not yoga.

  “Something like that,” Jackson said, raising both eyebrows before pursing his lips. “Problem?” he asked, parroting my tone.

  “Nope.” I said, stepping closer to him and lowering my voice as we stood just inches from one another. The tension was thick. “But just so you know, I’m not going anywhere. And it didn’t take a change of heart to make me show up for her.”

  “Is that right?” he said, glowering at me, placing his hands on his hips.

  “Yeah, that’s right. I will always show up for her.”

  His nostrils flared as he looked behind me. Maren had returned. I took one step back and turned to face her. “Hey.”

  “Everything okay?” Maren asked.

  “Oh yeah,” I said, turning my head toward Jackson. “We were just…having a chat.”

  “Ah,” she said, sweat glistening on her forehead. “Class is about to start. You’d better go find an empty spot, Jackson. We’re saving that one for Lyra.”

  God, I love this woman.

  “Right,” Jackson said, reaching down to grab his mat and water bottle. He took two giant steps forward, looking back at us as he spread out his mat. Just then, Lyra approached.

  “Hey, thanks for saving my spot. What did I miss?”

  “Apparently, a lot,” Maren said with a laugh. “But we’ll both have to wait until after class to find out what.”

  “Ooookay.” Looking puzzled, Lyra raised one eyebrow, looking around the studio before planting her eyes on me. “Did you hydrate?”

  I laughed, wiping the sweat from my neck with my hand towel and taking one more swig from my water bottle.

  “You have no idea.”

  Lyra rolled her eyes and tipped her head toward Jackson. “What is he doing here? Patrice isn’t even teaching today.”

  “No clue,” Maren said quietly. “Just ignore him.”

  I leaned over to Lyra, lowering my voice. “He’s trying to get her back.”

  “Well, that’s not happening,” she scoffed, letting out a sardonic laugh. Jackson turned around, and Lyra’s posture stiffened. She placed her hands on her hips and widened her eyes, shaking her head as she spoke. “I wasn’t talking to you.”

  Jackson shook his head and turned around, turning his body and stretching all the way to the floor, giving Maren a perfect view of his flexed ass.

  Motherfucking Adonis asshat.

  “All right, let’s begin,” Luna said into her headset, her voice reverberating around the large studio. “Deep breath in…..hold…..and deep breath out.”

  Luna led us into half moon pose. Jackson glanced back at us as he stretched to the side. Determined to not let him grab Maren’s attention, I stretched far toward her, giving her a wink as I did. If I was honest with myself, Jackson’s presence was definitely making me want to up my game. And there was no way in hell I was passing out.

  I grimaced when Luna instructed us to get into eagle’s pose. This one was, admittedly, the hardest for me. I felt like a human pretzel. Of course Jackson wrapped his knees just perfectly, turning back to me and giving me a cocky grin when he saw me struggling.

  All right, asshole. It’s on.

  Eagle’s pose may have been my worst position, but standing bow pose was my jam. And I knew Maren would notice my abs when I leaned, pulling my leg up behind me and leaning forward with my arm. She’d complimented me at the last class, and I wasn’t surprised when she turned her head once I was in the pose.

  “You’re a natural, Peter. That pose took me months to learn.”

  “Thanks, babe,” I said, nice and loud, peeking over to glance at Jackson. Not only was his back leg shaking from the pressure of the pose, but his chest was heaving and he looked like steam might come out of his ears. I laughed under my breath, preparing for Luna’s next pose.

  “Nicely done,” Lyra whispered.

  Not only did I survive my second Bikram class, but despite a little bit of nausea, I felt amazing by the end of the class—like I could run a marathon or climb a mountain. It was such a rush.

  “I could get used to this,” I said, as we left the studio and entered the lobby of the health club. The normal seventy-two degrees felt chilly, and goosebumps rose on my forearms.

  “See? Told you it’s addicting.”

  “I may have to join you guys more often.” I turned to Lyra. “If that’s okay.”

  “Hell yeah,” Lyra said. “You’re good, McTavish.”

  Jackson, drenched in sweat, dabbed his towel to his bare shoulders. “You look exhausted, guy. Don’t worry, you’ll get the hang of it eventually.”

  “It’s Peter,” I said, brushing him off. “If you need some help with standing bow, just let me know. Happy to help.”

  Jackson sneered, pushing his lips up toward his nose. He was pissed, and I loved it. “That won’t be necessary.”

  “You sure? You looked a little shaky for a minute there.”

  “I was just pushing myself to the absolute limit. That’s what Bikram’s all about. Pushing yourself and getting the toxins out.”

  “Thanks for the lesson, yogi,” Lyra scoffed.

  Jackson glared at Lyra, then moved his attention to Maren. “See you next time.”

  Maren said nothing but raised her hand and waved. He grabbed his stuff and stormed away.

  “All right then,” Maren said, shaking her head in disbelief, and I decided to not give her another ounce of our attention.

  “So, who’s hungry? I’m meeting Dev and Scott in fifteen minutes.”

  “Ugh, Dev?” Lyra moaned. “Not sure I can handle him today.”

  “Did he ever write you back?” Maren asked, and Lyra shook her head.

  “I give up with that one. I tried to play nice, but he wasn’t having it. Message received, pal.”

  “C’mon, my treat… He’ll be watching the game most of the time, anyway.”

  “Let’s do it, Lyra.”

  “Fine, but only because you’re paying. My fridge is empty and my pain-in-the-ass boss doesn’t pay me ’til tomorrow.”

  Maren jabbed Lyra in the ribs. Lyra grabbed her side dramatically. “Owwww. Just so you know, I’m ordering the most expensive thing on the menu.”

  “It’s a sports bar. What could you possibly order?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m going to find it. Lobster nachos….or a fancy salad with salmon and steak. Surf and turf. Don’t worry, honey, I’ll find something.”

  “Pretty sure they don’t serve surf and turf, but order whatever you want. Consider it a thank-you for my imposing on girl time.” I said, genuinely hoping Lyra would join us.

  “And I don’t have to talk to Dev?”

  “Not if you don’t want to.”

  “The lady doth protest too much, methinks,” Maren said with a wink.

  “Shut it, Mare. I mean it; no Shakespeare, no Austen. I may be a librarian, but Jesus, you’re driving me crazy with the literary references.”

  “Austen?” I asked, feeling like I was missing something.

  “She thinks he’s my Mr. Darcy, but there is absolutely nothing I want less than a romance with that pain in the ass.” Lyra rolled her eyes dramatically.

  “That’s exactly what Elizabeth Bennet said…although in a much more eloquent way.” Maren giggled. “You said yourself, he’s gorgeous.”

  “And a moron,” Lyra added. “Don’t forget that. He would drive me absolutely batty. I mean, I barely know the kid and I already want to murder him in his sleep.”

  “Right, you barely know him…that’s the point. Maybe if you two spent a little bit of ti
me together, you’d feel differently.”

  “Nope, not happening. Stop trying to make it happen, Mare. It’s never gonna happen”

  “Fine, sorry.” Maren raised both hands in the air in surrender. “You’d make beautiful babies; that’s all I’m gonna say.”

  “Maren Mercer! I can barely stand the guy for more than five minutes. In what universe could I possibly carry his offspring? Besides, I don’t even want kids. You know this.”

  “Ugh, shit just got real,” Maren said, rolling her eyes. Her stomach growled loud enough for all of us to hear. “Can we get some food, please? This one over here is obviously hangry.”

  “Shut it,” Lyra said under her breath, putting on her sweatshirt and coat. “But yes, I’m starving.”

  “After you,” I said, opening the door to the club. Lyra walked out first, and I whispered to Maren, “This should be interesting.”

  The second Dev and Lyra made eye contact, his mouth dropped open and he fixated on me, glaring.

  I’m in trouble.

  “What?” I asked, trying to sound oblivious to his irritation.

  “You know what,” he said, shaking his head. “Swing and a miss, Pete.” He then focused his attention on Lyra. “So, Her Majesty decided to grace us with her presence this evening… To what do we owe the pleasure?”

  Lyra ignored him, climbing into the nearest barstool, which happened to be in the far right corner of the table, as far away from Dev as she could possibly get. “Pass me a menu, please.”

  Scott passed menus to all of us as Maren and I got settled into our seats. “Mozzarella sticks and nachos are on their way. I wasn’t sure what else you’d like.”

  “Wait, you knew they were coming?” Dev’s eyes stretched wide, and Scott shrugged.

  “Peter texted me a little bit ago.”

  “You all suck,” Dev said, glaring at me again before taking a swig of his beer and focusing his attention on the television screens over our heads.

  “Just ignore him,” I said to Maren before kissing her on the forehead. “I’m happy you’re here.”

  “Where’s Allison?” Lyra asked Scott.