by Becca Taylor
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
“You sure you want me to stay?” he asks.
I do. I'm just not ready to overthink what happened last night. “Yes.”
He crouches in front of me. “I don't want to overstay my welcome.”
“You're not. I invited you.”
“And now I think you regret that. Do you?”
“No.”
“Last night was great. Best night I've had in my life. But I don't want you to feel uncomfortable in your own home,” he tells me sincerely as his dark eyes are searching mine for a true answer.
“I don't.”
“Yeah, you do. I'm going to head out. Besides, I've got some cleaning up I need to do at my house,” Jeremy says as he stands.
“Okay,” I say regretfully. I'm regretting this whole interaction. Because now things are different. I ruined it.
“Jade?”
“Yeah.”
“Nothing changes. You got me?”
“Okay.”
“Enjoy your waffles.”
I give him a weak smile as he walks out of the bedroom. In the distance, I hear the front door close. By the time I make it to the bathroom, I think I sat on the edge of the bed for ten more minutes. Our wet clothes littering the shower floor are reminders of what happened last night. After I place everything in the wash, I take care of myself. Bathroom, brush teeth, comb hair. I’m on autopilot, and I hate it. It is a step backward for me, the old routine Jade.
I video chat with my parents like I do every Saturday, but this time, I do it while binge eating waffles. After I successfully gained three pounds of carb and syrup weight, I curl on the couch to watch some cheesy made-for-TV movies I love so much. I continue my tradition of waffle Saturday with chicken and waffles for lunch and waffles and ice cream for dinner. Eight hours later, with six or more waffles devoured and a pint of triple chocolate brownie ice cream gone, I don't feel any better. I feel bloated and just as confused as before.
I haven't heard Jeremy come home yet, and I wonder if he's going to ignore me because I acted awfully to him this morning. The movie I am watching ends, and I’m completely out of sorts. It never bothered me to be alone before, but today it is. Something is gnawing at me. Why do I keep up my tradition of waffle Saturday when there is no one to share it with? That's the whole point. Sharing it with someone, family.
That concept, family, seems so far out of reach for me. I was about to call Lexi to ask her advice, but then I remembered she and Hunter are spending time with his mom this weekend. Kat and Aly, along with their men, always get together after Butter My Bread closes to eat and discuss business. And Dani is too far away and working.
“You are fine. Being single is fine. You don't have to answer to anyone. And you can eat all the waffles and ice cream you want for dinner,” I tell myself. It doesn't help. I turn off the television and decide to take a hot bath. Soak my sorrows away.
I put on some calming music and sink into the hot water when my phone buzzes.
Looks like I'll be moving out this week. My house is done.
Jeremy texts me.
I should be happy for him. It's his house. This isn't his home, but I feel more alone with that message.
Me: That's great.
I lie.
Jeremy: Did you enjoy your waffles?
Me: I ate too many.
Jeremy: Did you save me some because I'm starving?
Me: Was I supposed to?
Jeremy: It's the neighborly thing to do.
Me: I may have a few left.
Jeremy: I'll see you in ten.
Me: I'll have them warm and ready.
Jeremy: Looking forward to it.
Just like that, I don't feel so alone anymore. But I realize I overreacted this morning, which also means if I’m this emotional now with him leaving, I’m in too deep. I need to stop that. Put the rules back in place again. No more slipups.
“I WISH YOU weren’t leaving,” Jade says as I load my suitcase into my truck.
“It’s time I get back to my house. The reno is done, and I have some side projects for clients to work on there.”
“The past month has been fun. I’m going to miss having the company.”
“Just fun?” I ask.
“You know what I mean. You’re easy to live with. Or below.” Her cheeks redden when she tries to correct herself.
“It doesn’t have to stop. I’m only a phone call away,” I tell her as I cup her face in my hands.
“I think we need the space. It was getting too comfortable between us. We’ll never move on if we stay under the same roof.” Jade pulls back from me, which she’s never done before, and it bothers me.
“Are you sure? Because I don’t mind comfortable. In fact, I like it. I’m not in a rush to change our revised agreement.” I take a step forward, but she takes a step back. I don’t like it. Frankly, it pisses me off.
“I think it’s better, right? Stick to the original plan. Maybe this past month was a bad idea.”
This wasn’t what I was expecting tonight. I had high hopes of her begging me not to go. Not telling me what was happening between us was wrong.
“I don’t regret a second of it.” She flinches when I stress the words and cross my hands over my chest.
“That’s not what I meant. I don’t know what I’m saying. I just think we need space. Maybe, cool things off a bit.”
There’s my answer. “Right. Got it. I guess I’ll see you around.”
I hop in my truck.
“I don’t want you to leave yet. Stay for dinner.”
“Not tonight. I’m meeting Josh for a beer to discuss band shit.”
“Oh, okay. Call me then?”
“Maybe. If I’m home early enough.”
“Oh.”
Yeah, oh. It was a dick move, juvenile even, but I’m pissed. And when I get pissed, my attitude is shit. I pull out of the driveway and call Josh. In my rearview mirror, I watch her. Jade is standing in the driveway then turns to the steps.
“What’s up?” Josh asks.
Nothing really. I only just got my heart trampled on again. But of course, I don’t say that. I’d sound like a loser. Instead, I tell him, “You and me, tonight, beer.”
“Well, that’s some invitation. What if I have plans?”
“What kind of plans?” I ask him.
“One that includes ink and needles. I’m headed over to see our boy Rich.”
Rich is our tattoo guy. And, right now, some ink therapy sounds like the perfect plan. A little pain to cover the kick to my gut. “I’ll meet you there.”
“I’ll let him know.”
By the time I get to Pierce it, Brand it, Tramp Stamp it, Josh is already in the chair. I think he and Hunter are in a competition to see who can get the most ink. Josh is catching up.
Rich puts down his tattoo gun to give me a hand slap hello.
“Jeremy, long time, no ink.”
“Got time now. How about you?”
“Got another hour here with our boy then I’m clear,” he tells me as he points at the chair where I can sit.
“Quieting down here?” Josh asks him.
“Fuck, just the opposite. But I hired a new artist and a receptionist who is magic when it comes to scheduling and paperwork. Makes my life easier and I have more time for tattooing.”
“I’m the one getting the tattoo, and you seem tense. Trouble in paradise?” Josh looks at me and jokes.
“Fuck you,” I tell him back.
“Guess you hit a nerve,” Rich says.
“I’m back at my house,” I say to them.
“She kicked you out?” Josh asks.
“No.”
“What did you do? If you hurt her, I’ll have to hit you.”
“Why am I the bad guy?”
“Because you went along with this fucking dumbass plan. You couldn’t just look for tail in the bar like a normal guy. No, you had to go for the one who is a forever kind of gir
l. Fuck, that hurt.” Josh winces as Rich finishes some work on his underarm.
“You don’t know shit about what we were doing. And I didn’t do anything to hurt her. Listen, I don’t want to get into it. The topic is not up for discussion.” Final fucking answer.
“Sounds like he got the boot,” Rich says to Josh. Josh is smart enough to keep his mouth shut.
“Shut the fuck up, Rich.” I am pissed for no reason other than he’s right.
“Not a smart thing to say to the person putting a needle and ink to your body,” Rich warns me.
If I was any Joe Schmoe off the street, I’d be worried. Rich is a massive wall of muscle, rides a motorcycle like it’s in his blood, and rarely smiles. I know he won’t do anything to me especially when it comes to a tattoo. I’ve known Rich for as long as I have Josh and the other guys. He takes his art seriously. Nobody in a hundred-mile radius or farther can tattoo better than he does. He was born for this, so his threat means nothing.
“All done,” he says after he cleans off Josh.
Josh checks out his new ink in the mirror, the brand for the app he designed. “Sweet.”
“You’re up,” Rich tells me after he cleans his station. He makes a show of buzzing his gun while he pats the chair.
“What'll it be today?”
I chose to have something my grandpop used to say to me. Now, more than ever, I need the reminder of his words. Tomorrow’s memory is today’s opportunity. He used to tell me this whenever something I was working on wasn’t going just right and would frustrate me. Depending on his tone, I think it was his way of saying suck it up, don't give up, and even be proud of your accomplishments.
“You still want to get that beer?” Josh asks me.
“Yep.”
Rich draws the words down my ribcage on the right side of my body freehand. I'm not a man who likes to have my ink on display all the time. Sure, if I take my shirt off, you can see the one I have on my back of the tools—saw and hammer—in memory of my family that taught me my trade.
“This shouldn't take long. If you're good with the placement and lettering, we can start,” Rich says.
“Let's do this,” I answer.
The buzz of the tattoo gun starts, and I enjoy the pain. At least this will take my mind off earlier. For a little while anyway.
“How's the club?” I ask Rich. He's been a member of his dad's motorcycle club for some time. We've done some charity events for them, but I don't know much about it. What I do know is it's nothing like that television show. From what Rich has said, it's a bunch of guys who like to hang out, in need of a family, and like to ride motorcycles.
“Same ole, same ole. Old man's starting to ride me hard about settling down. Says he wants grandkids.” Rich laughs. “No way is that happening anytime soon. I have the perfect life. A job I love, women everywhere, and I don't have to answer to anyone.”
“Except your pops,” Josh jokes.
“Only when it comes to club business. This is mine.” Rich sweeps his arms around the room then up and down his body.
“We could use some of your muscle when we start moving shit into the youth center,” I tell him.
“We can do that. Just let me know when you have a date. We have about five thousand pounds of muscle who are always willing to help a good cause. Something like that would have benefited a lot of the guys when I was growing up.”
Rich grew up with just his dad, and since we ran in the same crowd, I know all too well how many times he ended up cutting school, in detention, or in suspension for stupid shit he did.
“Damn straight,” Josh said. He was a different breed of trouble. Josh was our tech nerd guy and knew the ins and outs of hacking the school system even though nothing good came from that. One too many teachers’ houses got toilet papered for being a dick.
The tattoo takes just over an hour to complete. By the time he finishes, I don’t feel like heading to the bar. Even more so when they discuss finding some luscious ass for the night. Not going there.
Instead, I head home and crack open a much-needed beer on my couch. Only it feels strange being back home. Eerily quiet. I miss hearing the faint sounds of music from the floor below me and sitting on the deck listening to the waves. As much as I hate to say it, it doesn’t feel like home anymore. This house was always meant to be a starter, a moneymaker, and I think it’s time to move on.
I prop my feet on the coffee table and turn on the local channel that runs a woodworking show, but my mind doesn’t focus on it long. It’s on my phone as it lights up with a message.
Jade: Do you hate me?
Goddammit, why would she ask that? I feel the opposite of hate for her.
Me: Why would you think that?
Jade: I don’t like the way things ended when you left.
I don’t either. I seem to have left my man card in the driveway when I message her back again.
Me: That’s probably my fault.
Jade: No, it was me. I should have said things differently.
Me: You only said what you felt.
Jade: Not exactly.
And I think maybe, just fucking maybe, she’s going to take back every word.
Jade: I don’t want to lose you.
Then I think about the words I just had tattooed on me. Tomorrow’s memory is today’s opportunity. She’s my opportunity; I want today every day with her, and I’ll take it for as long as I can. She took my man card and had me by the balls once again.
Me: Never.
“DID YOU MISS me?” I ask Jade. She has no reason to miss me; we’ve seen each other every day since I moved back home. If she’s not at the job site, we are either having lunch or dinner together.
“It feels really weird without you at home. But did you really call for something else or just to boost your ego?”
“Ouch. Actually, I did call for something.”
“Oh, really? You need me to weed through more dates?” she asks, and I want to tell her I’ve quit the dating site. I never renewed that waste of a membership after the two months ran out.
“Nope, I’m good. Do you want to ride together to the dinner at Caleb and Kat’s place tonight? I need to swing by anyway to pick up a few things I forgot in the apartment.” I’ve been home almost a month and still have some things there. Nothing important, just a few changes of clothes just in case. Wishful thinking on my part.
Caleb called me yesterday saying he and Kat were having a post-hurricane party or some shit. Now that everyone was settled after the storm, they wanted us to all get together without having to worry about houses being blown away. At least, that’s what he said Kat wanted to celebrate. I would say she was being overdramatic, but it is the truth.
Besides, I have some news to share with everyone. I bought a house. Not just any house, though. I bought Bentley’s house on the beach. He told me he was thinking about selling it for the right price, and I guess mine was it. I won’t even discuss the price tag, but it is worth it. Down the road, I have plans, but for now, I will keep it a rental property. Only one person will be living there, though. Jade loves that house, and I would never have the heart to kick her to the curb.
“Sounds like a plan. What time will you be here? I need to shower and dress,” she says, and my thoughts go south.
“In that case, I’ll be right over. Save some hot water for me.”
“Jeremy.”
“Yes.”
“You’d better hurry then.”
I made it there in twenty minutes. The shower took an hour, and then we got dirty again, which required a second scrub down. It was worth almost being late to dinner.
“See? One minute to spare,” I tell Jade as we pull into Caleb’s driveway.
“We’re thirty minutes late.”
“In girl time maybe, but in guy time, it’s just right.”
“What’s the difference? Late is late,” Jade asks as she hops out of the car.
I wrap my arm around her shoulder as we walk to the front d
oor. “To girls, seven means on the dot. Right?” When she nods, I continue my informative speech. “Well, to a guy, if I say around seven, they know that means at seven, I’ll be getting out of the shower, so expect me to be there twenty minutes after that. On time puts me in the category of desperate. Late means I'm going with the flow.”
“What you’re saying is all those times I showed up on time at your place, I was desperate?”
“Different situation,” I tell her.
“How so?”
“Because it’s the men who are desperate, and if a woman says a time, you arrive, flowers in hand, with the biggest smile on your face or else I would be going home alone for sure.”
“You’re an ass.”
“It’s the truth. Admit it?” She doesn’t answer, but she elbows me away as the door opens.
“Right on time,” Caleb says.
“See?” I say as I give Caleb a shoulder bump man hug then he kisses Jade on the cheek. Jade glances over at me with an evil glare, and I give her a wink back.
“Ass,” she whispers to me as I hold the door open for her to walk in.
Everyone is in the living room, and Josh joins us shortly after. I lean closer to Jade. “The single guys get to be extra late.”
She looks at me. “You’re single.”
Fuck. I rack my brain for an excuse. “But I came with a date.”
“This isn’t a date.”
I called and offered her to pick her up. We had sex twice, so I beg to differ, but we won’t go there. “Semantics. You came with me is what I meant.”
With the gang all here, minus Dani and Logan, the food and alcohol start flowing. Unlike last time, Kat forbids any talk of storms. After dinner, the men sit on the lanai, beer in hand, and shoot the shit. Talk was mainly about business and how everyone was doing. Josh is the only one who doesn’t own his own business, but then again, he doesn’t need to. He lives the cushy life of a rich bachelor and loves his job as a cook at Butter My Bread. The girls are in the kitchen laughing, and I can pick Jade’s out of a crowd.
I slightly raise my beer to her while she smiles back. Josh kicks my chair and gives me a quizzical look. I just shake his look off.