It took me a moment to process the pie graph I was seeing. I was from… everywhere. The little pie chart was divided into dozens of slices. I had genetic ties to every continent except for Australia. The majority of my ancestry seemed to be around the Mediterranean, especially Spain, Italy, and Northern Africa. That would explain my tan skin and dark eyes. The chunk of my ancestry that came from northern Europe helped explain my above-average height. The part of me that was—score—from the Polynesian islands helped explain my heavy build and more almond shaped eyes. I was Samoan just like The Rock! I mean, I was lots and lots of things, but Samoan was one of them.
My fingers were dialing up my mom before I realized what I was doing. She answered on the first ring, as usual. My mom practically lived with a phone in her hand at all times. She always had friends calling, and hated missing the latest gossip.
“Hey sweetie!” her voice was a comforting, twangy southern balm.
“Hi mom. I just got my genetic results. I wanted to tell you I’m from everywhere.” I sounded excited even to my own ears.
She laughed. Her laugh was light, airy, and happy. I could see her smiling face in my mind. “Tell me all about it, darlin’,” she ordered me.
I carefully explained the pie chart I was seeing, telling her how the genetic markers showed that I’d probably been the product of two extremely multiracial parents. There must have been a lot of interbreeding in my family over generations, possibly indicating that my family might have been merchants, or lived in cities that saw a lot of international trade. There was no one country that had a majority on my ancestry. I was, literally, from the entire world. Except Australia. And, I supposed, Antarctica.
“You’re the future of humanity, aren’t you?” she mused. She sounded impressed by my motley background.
“I guess so.” We were a long way from a world without race or racism, but it was a nice thing to think about. I’d never come across as being any particular race, so I’d never encountered any real racism. Sometimes people just assumed I was from their race, whatever that may be. Black people sometimes thought I was mixed. White people sometimes thought I was just swarthy. Usually I just got a lot of second looks and questions I couldn’t answer about where my family was from. Until now. Now I could tell people confidently that I was from everywhere.
“Well the future is going to be very handsome just like you,” she told me. “And very smart and talented. Oh, and probably very tall if they’re all like you.” My mom, who was five-four in her church shoes was very glad that I’d turned out to be tall. She made good use of my height whenever I was around. I felt like I spent a lot of my time getting things down from high places for her.
“Thanks mom.” My mom was never light on her praise of me in general. She’d always been that way, even when I was a fat kid with bad skin, bad grades and low self-esteem. Back when I’d had a face only a mother could love, she did.
“You’re welcome darlin’. They certainly took long enough to give you your results though. I thought they said it would only take a few weeks.” She made a disapproving clucking noise. It was the same noise she used on the cat when it jumped on her kitchen countertops.
“Well, I didn’t turn the test in right away.” I hesitated. “Actually, I was kind of worried about it if I’m honest.”
“Why’s that?” She sounded mystified and I relaxed. Kate was right.
I felt silly now, but I wasn’t going to keep the truth from my mom. “I was worried you would think that I was rejecting our family if I looked. I didn’t want you to feel rejected or anything. I just wanted you to know that I don’t want any other family than the one I’ve got.”
She was quiet for a minute. I heard her sigh over the phone. “Jimmy said you would feel like that. He said I was putting you in a situation where ‘you’d be as lost as last year’s Easter eggs’. I told him he was being overly sensitive. I guess he was right. I never wanted for you to feel like that. I just wanted you to know it was ok to look into your birth family if you wanted to.”
“I liked learning about where my biological family came from in the world,” I said carefully, “but I don’t really want to know anything else about them. I know who my real family is.”
I could almost hear my mom smiling into the phone. “I know honey. I know. But you can always change your mind and I won’t be mad. You can look into your birth family whenever you want. I won’t be offended. I know you’re always gonna be my son, and I’m always gonna be your mom.”
Talking to her made me feel a lot better. I ought to call more often. “How is Uncle Jimmy?” I asked.
She made an unladylike noise. “Getting into trouble as always. Yesterday I thought I heard some squirrels up in the attic. I told him about it and instead of calling the exterminator like a normal person, he went on the internet and found out that if you put a radio up there it will run them off. So, he decided to climb up in the attic during the heat of the day and damn near killed himself. But you know him, if he isn’t as busy as a one-legged cat in a sandbox, he thinks he’s going to seed.”
I laughed with her, feeling my spirits lift. “I miss you guys.”
“We miss you too, sweetie. What are you doing tonight?”
“I’m going to a friend’s celebration party. He just had a—” I didn’t know how to express the concept of selling an app to a private equity investor in a way that my mom could easily grasp. She didn’t do technology. “—a good thing happen to him at work.”
“That sounds like fun. I don’t want to keep you. Besides, I’ve got book club.”
“Ok, mom. Thanks for talking to me. Have fun with your friends! I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Bye sweetie! Love you.”
“I love you too, mom.”
When I hung up I had a smile on my face, but it didn’t last very long. I was glad that my mom was supportive of whatever I wanted to do with my life, and supportive of me seeking out my birth family if that’s what I wanted to do, but talking to her had also reminded me how lonely I’d been lately. Not having any real social interaction for weeks was beginning to take a toll on me both physically and psychologically.
I’d lost weight—something that I knew was going to happen and needed to happen based on my conversations with my nutritionist—but at a rate much faster than intended. I just wasn’t hungry. I was also much sleepier than usual. Both were symptoms of depression.
But the physical symptoms paled in comparison to the psychological ones. I was still holding things together well, but the more functional I seemed to become, the more real the loneliness at night was. The haze that had settled in front of my eyes had started to lift up like mist burning off in the morning, and all I could see ahead of me was loneliness.
My mom had raised me to believe that it wasn’t necessary to be in a romantic relationship. She was happy with her friends and her family. She didn’t have or want a mate. There aren’t that many people out there who actually admit that they are asexual. Due to social stigmas and all sorts of stupid prejudices that people hold, it isn’t always easy for them to be honest. But my mom was honest from the start. She was happy and complete just the way she was. Jimmy was the same, although never in so many words.
But me? I didn’t feel happy or complete by myself. From an early age, I knew that I wasn’t destined to be like my mom. I saw my friends’ parents and thought that I wanted what they had. A little family and a partner to help run it. I’d never imagined that I’d find myself looking down the barrel at thirty and still be single. In my childhood dreams for myself, there had always been a wife at my side. Someone to care for, and to care for me. Someone that I could protect and cherish and love. Someone who would be there in the mornings when I woke up, and evenings when we went to bed.
These fantasies of mine were never sexual in any way. I was too young for that. I just thought that it would be nice to have a partner that I could live my life with. Like a best friend, but better.
Now, I feared tha
t I’d met the woman that I was supposed to have as my partner in life and failed to make her mine. I wasn’t worthy of her, and I’d made too many mistakes, and she’d figured that out. So instead of having a partner in my life, I was going to end up like my mom after all, only not because that was how I wanted it. I would be alone forever, because no one else would ever be as perfect for me as Kate.
Reluctantly, I made my way down the block to the Lone Star Lounge. It was twilight, and the sound of happy people in the bar carried down the street on the evening breeze. It sounded like people finding their partners to me. That sound was the music of people finding love. I feared if I failed tonight that there was nothing but silence in my future.
It occurred to me then that I had nothing at all left to lose. Kate had already dumped me. It was time for me to go all-in. I might not be able to win Kate back tonight, but I wasn’t going to let indecision or fear get in the way of trying. It was time to tell her the whole truth, and I still had one ace up my sleeve. I loved her.
42
Kate
Ward and I were working through the evening rush when my phone pinged. The whole day had been non-stop madness, and I hadn’t had a break in hours, let alone managed to tell Ward I was quitting. It was the busiest we’d been in months. I wasn’t used to the noise since it wasn’t my usual alert tone, and I looked down at it in confusion. An icon I had almost forgotten about was demanding my attention. Lucas’ app.
I frowned at my phone. What did the app want? I hadn’t messed with Lucas’ dating app at all since Emma installed it on my phone the night before. She was at the bar tonight, across the room laughing with Lucas and Lily at a table. Too far away. I would just figure it out myself. I clicked the app.
A little chime played and then Cole’s face appeared on my screen. You have a new match, my phone informed me in animated blue text on a cheerful, cartoon background. Cole Rylander is within two hundred feet of you. A tiny cartoon heart turned in a circle and then exploded into a thousand more rainbow hearts.
I froze. Lucas’ dating app matched me with Cole? And he’s here? My heart immediately started banging in my rib cage. The noise and commotion of the bar receded around me in an instant. I felt hot and cold, like when I’d had a panic attack on the fiftieth floor. I had not expected to see Cole tonight. He hadn’t been to the bar all month, and I thought that we had an unspoken arrangement that this was my territory and not his.
How dare he come here? How dare he—
“Hi Kate.” The voice ripped my attention up from Cole’s image on my phone and to the real thing. He smiled at me confidently, wearing that same look that he’d worn on the day of Ward and Emma’s engagement party. The one that said, ‘I know you want me, Kate’. In that crisp blue button down and sexy, slouchy jeans, he was absolutely right.
And absolutely wrong.
“Can I get you something?” I asked blandly, putting on my patented bartender smile. Inside I was shaking, but at least on the outside, I was all business. My smile, tone, and demeanor were not too warm or not too sweet. I’d carefully designed and practiced this act to discourage the guys who thought I wanted to date them when I really just wanted a good tip. I never thought I’d need to use it on Cole.
He was totally undeterred by my professionalism. “How about fifteen minutes of your time?” he asked. Cole’s amber-colored eyes were full of that same, familiar heat. The kind that made me restless, flushed, and wanton. Even now, all I could think about when he looked at me that way was rolling over and spreading my legs for him. And I suspected, from the way his grin widened a bit and crinkled the edges of his eyes, that he knew it.
I cleared my throat and shifted from foot to foot. “Sorry, that’s not on our menu. Anything else?” I wasn’t trying to be rude, but there were about ten people trying to get my attention at the moment because they wanted beer, and my poor battered heart couldn’t handle seeing him yet.
“Kate…”
“Cole. Just… please,” I begged. My cool bartender attitude slipped, and my voice cracked. I sounded heartbroken, because I was. I hated that it happened. I hated that he saw it even more. And not just him, either. In this busy bar, a dozen people got to see me fight back tears.
“Fifteen minutes, Kate. That’s all I’m asking you for.” I was going to tell him no, of course, but then he added, “and if you want me to leave at that point, I will. And I won’t come back.” His tone was self-assured, but his eyes held a vulnerability I wasn’t used to seeing.
Despite my better instincts, I softened. “I’ll meet you in the office in five minutes,” I told him, trying to maintain my bland persona as best I could. “I still have a few orders to get out.”
He nodded and wandered off, leaving me with six drinks to make and a lot of anxiety. My hands had already been pulling beers as fast as I could, but I kicked it into overdrive. I was shaking a martini shaker, garnishing, and refilling waters at the same time to buy those precious fifteen minutes.
“Can I get a margarita over here?” A customer snapped down the bar at me. “Or do I have to watch your entire relationship drama play out first?” She tapped her long nails along the bar like Cruella De-Ville and mumbled something about me being a lazy slut.
Oh hell no.
“Go fuck yourself,” I snapped right back. “Just for that, no drink for you.” A couple of regulars laughed. Just because I was heartbroken didn’t mean anyone got to push me around. I was still me, and I didn’t take shit from anybody. The woman slunk away from the bar, flushing purple. I turned to another customer that had been waiting even longer, and much more patiently. “Sorry about the wait. What can I get for you?” I asked him with a smile.
I found Cole seated at Ward’s desk, looking more like the CEO of a dealership empire than a pro athlete. He’d either adjusted surprisingly quickly to the business life, or had been born for it, because the man looked good behind a desk. I left the door open, fearing trouble if I let it close. We’d gotten to trouble on that desk before.
“Ok, here I am,” I told him, darting my gaze at the clock on the wall, “your fifteen minutes starts now.”
“I’m lucky I work well under pressure,” Cole said coolly, “because a lesser man wouldn’t be able to handle this sort of stress.” If I didn’t know him, I would have thought he was perfectly at ease. His smirk was sexy, but I could still see that there was vulnerability in him.
Outside in the bar I could be tough, but in here I was still an insecure little girl. I didn’t trust myself to say anything, so I just arched an eyebrow, crossed my arms, and stared. Maybe if I looked tough, I could convince myself I was tough. Maybe, I could even convince Cole.
“When you asked me out all those years ago, I was crazy about you,” he told me. He shook his head with some emotion I couldn’t place. “I lied to you. When you asked me if I liked you, and I told you that I was just being polite, I lied. I was stupid, and young. I was trying to make sure I had a future, and I was trying to make sure you had a future. I knew that there was no way for us to be together back then. So, I drove you off. But I was in love you. Even back then. It was always you.” He fell silent and looked at me.
My heart hurt. Before I couldn’t trust myself to find words to say, but now I couldn’t find any. I’d been rendered completely mute. He loved me? Even back then he cared? Cole glanced at the clock nervously and continued.
“I didn’t know you were a virgin that night. I’ve got absolutely no excuse for how I behaved. I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t hurt you, I... Please believe me that I never, ever would have hurt you like that on purpose. I probably wasn’t as gentle as I should have been and if I hurt you…” His voice broke painfully. He looked down at the desk in front of him, and all his former confidence seemed to drain out of him.
Rationally, I knew he was still the same man, but he seemed to shrink into himself from guilt. He tried to meet my eyes and failed before burying his head in his hands. I melted in an instant, coming over to touch his shoulder w
ith a shaking hand. “You didn’t hurt me,” I whispered. “It’s ok. I swear you never hurt me. Not at all. It’s ok.”
He looked at me, wide-eyed, and shook his head. “How could it possibly be ok? I told you that you were just a distraction to me. You were—”
“Willing,” I interrupted. “Cole, I was willing. I was a grown up making a grown up, sober decision about my own body and my own life.” No matter what, this was the truth and he needed to believe it. I would make him believe it.
“But I—”
“No!” I wasn’t willing to let him hate himself over a decision made a half decade ago at a college party. “Stop it. Stop feeling sorry for yourself and don’t you dare pity me. You know how much I hate it.” I stared at him so obstinately, he had to smile, even if it was a humorless, tiny smile.
“Kate, why don’t you hate me over how I took your virginity?” he asked after a moment. He was looking at me like I was nuts. “I would understand if you did. I would deserve it.”
“Because you didn’t take shit from me,” I snapped. “Virginity is not a commodity. Anything we exchanged that night was freely given. This isn’t the middle ages. It’s not like I was expecting you to marry me or something. We were two kids at a party who had one night of meaningless sex on a golf course. The end.”
That shut him up. The seconds ticked by as we stared at one another across a chasm of misunderstanding, recrimination, and guilt.
“Meaningless?” he finally asked. “It wasn’t meaningless to me. I loved you then. I love you now.” His voice was low and earnest.
Now I was the one to regret my words. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. My whole life was revolving around this moment. “It wasn’t meaningless to me either,” I admitted. “I loved you. That night was special to me, really special. I thought you would never feel anything for me like what I felt for you, but at least for that little while, you were mine.” Emotion was making my words sound thick in my own ears. I wanted Cole to believe me so badly I wanted to shake him by the shoulders and scream at him. The idea that he would think I’d not enjoyed every second of our intimacy was criminally wrong.
Kiss Me Like You Missed Me Page 21