by Penny Wylder
It was the best night of my life.
Probably will continue to be the best night of my life if Bryce has changed his mind.
It’s fine. I knew it was coming. It’s fine.
I keep telling myself that as I get dressed, make breakfast, and go to the store. It’s fine. It’s a good memory. It’s okay.
I push aside the pulsing hurt in my chest and go about opening the store. Elle isn’t here yet, and I’m glad, because she’s going to ask about last night. I’m amazed the cops didn’t show up at my house because I was so caught up with Bryce I never texted her. It was so easy to disappear into him and forget everything but the delicious pleasure and intimacy. Or what I thought was intimacy.
My body perks up at the memory, need spiraling though me with terrifying speed.
Down, girl.
At the very least, I’m glad I know what it feels like to be with him.
Against my better judgement, I check my phone again and log in to the Hearts First app, and only see what I expect: our messages from last night and nothing more. I have no new texts either. Bryce has my number. He’s always had it. Needed it, since our families text a fair amount. I’ve been left out of most of the group texts the last few years because I don’t live as close anymore, but I’m still on some of them.
I get everything done to open the store early—it’s in stellar shape due to Elle’s work last night—and I find myself staring at my phone. Hoping for a text that isn’t going to come. But I have to do something, and all I’m going to do is be thinking about him.
Flicking through his social media, I consume recent pictures of him. A few from a vacation this past year, and the pictures of him spiking a volleyball on the beach and diving in the waves have my body producing an entirely different kind of wave. And then I come across a picture that blows me back into the past. It’s of the two of us, on the night of my college graduation party. The night that changed everything and the night that I knew I had to move away because I couldn’t take it anymore.
In this picture, I’m still in my graduation gown, and he’s got his arm around me, and I’m staring up at him like his face is the sun and the only thing I wanted was to see it shine. The fact that none of my family realized that I was in love with him is a goddamn miracle.
At this point in the day, nothing had happened. But later that night…
I was drunk. Drunker than I normally would let myself get. But I was determined to make a move. I had graduated from college. I was an adult now. I was completely convinced that that would be enough for Bryce to see me for what I was. So I put on my smallest bikini—the one he mentioned last night—and got drunk. People were in the pool in our backyard. My family and my friends, all there to celebrate. So the fact that I as in a bikini wasn’t out of place.
But I pulled Bryce away, into the pool house. I told him I wanted to talk to him, and he followed me. I was drunk and clumsy, though in the moment I felt smooth and sexy. It’s been long enough and I had consumed enough alcohol that I don’t remember the details of what I said. But I pressed myself against him, and tried to make it clear that I was available for whatever he could possibly want from me.
And then my mom walked in on the two of us.
Nothing was happening, but the noise of the door was enough to startle me into freaking out, and I nearly fell on my ass. Bryce caught me, giving us a convenient cover story. That he was helping poor, drunk me, and not that I was hitting on the man that’s so close to my father that the jokingly refer to each other as brothers.
When I woke up the next morning—completely hungover and still in the bikini—I was mortified. Bryce never gave any clue about what happened, but he had to know, right? And for a second, I think I remember before my mom walked in, I saw the hint of his interest. So I left.
I knew that eventually I would be drunk around Bryce again, and that I would try to seduce him again because I couldn’t help myself, and I would ruin everything. Five hours away in the outskirts of Boston was far enough away to make sure that we wouldn’t run into each other. Or so I thought.
“Who’s that? He’s ridiculously hot.”
I nearly jump out of my skin. I’ve been so lost in my own memories that I didn’t hear Elle enter the store or walk up behind me. “Jesus, Elle.”
She laughs. “That’s not my fault, Katti. There’s literally a bell on the door.”
“That’s fair, but you still scared me.”
“That makes sense,” she says. “You must be exhausted.”
I give her a look. “What makes you say that?”
“The accidental phone call I got that let me hear you making out with your Hearts First hottie. I heard him tell you he was going to take you into the bedroom and fuck you, and hung up. I figured you were fine, and wouldn’t be calling me if you’d dropped your phone and were getting told that.”
I go hot with a blush. “Oh, my god. I’m so sorry.”
She waves a hand. “Don’t be. Better me hear you getting it on than you actually being in trouble.” Leaning on the counter, she grins. “So, how was it?”
I don’t manage to hide the way my face falls.
“Oh fuck,” she says. “What happened?”
“It was amazing,” I say. “But when I woke up, he was gone.”
Elle narrows her eyes. “But he was supposed to be a one-night stand. So that’s fine, right?” It takes her a second, and then she looks down at where my phone is still in my hand. “Ohhh. That’s the guy. He was someone you knew.”
I nod.
“So…what’s the problem with that?”
She doesn’t know about Bryce. Not about all of it. “I’ve wanted him for a really long time. It was just a sheer coincidence that it was him. But…the problem is that he’s nearly twice my age.”
A customer walks into the store, then, and I don’t have a chance to finish telling her the whole story. And we don’t have a chance for several more hours. Tuesdays are always busy for us, and we have a steady stream of customers, and I have a few calls that I need to make. By the time things slow down, it’s nearly noon, and I’m grateful that we haven’t been able to talk about it. Because I don’t know what she’s going to say and I don’t know how much more thinking about him leaving I can take. He already decided that it was mistake. What else matters?
But Elle isn’t one to give up that easily. As soon as the store calms down, she’s at my side. “So he’s twice your age? Who gives a fuck. He’s hot, and you’re attracted to each other. Weirder things have happened.”
“It’s not just that,” I say.
She rolls her eyes. “Then tell me.”
“He’s my father’s best friend.”
I see the shock register on her face right as the bell on the door rings, and I see Bryce walk into the store like I summoned him out of thin air.
Here.
Bryce is here.
He came back.
Relief and hope pour over me like cold water, and I hear Elle suck in a breath. “Holy fuck, that’s really him. And he’s even better than the pictures. Does he have a brother?”
She’s right, Bryce is stunning. He’s dressed in perfectly pressed slacks and a button-down shirt that’s rolled up to show off his forearms. It looks like he could have stepped out of an ad for some kind of men’s cologne.
“No brothers,” I murmur, as he walks up to me, and he leans down and captures my lips with his. It’s stunning and bold and completely unexpected. Oh.
Elle murmurs something about needing to check the stock in the back, and I hear her leave and nothing else. I can’t pay attention to anything but Bryce’s lips on mine. This doesn’t feel like he’s changed his mind. It doesn’t make sense.
“You’re here,” I say, when he lets me breathe for a moment.
“You sound surprised.”
I look away from him. “Well, yes.”
Bryce moves his hand to the back of my neck, guiding my gaze back to his. “Why?”
“You
left,” I say. “You were gone like you were never there. Not even a note.”
He chuckles and presses his forehead to mine. “I knew that I should have written it down.”
“What?”
“I told you I was leaving this morning. I had a meeting I had to go to for work, but that I’d be back. You said okay. I kissed you and you tried to make me stay.”
I know that I’m staring, and the amusement on his face makes me blush again. “I did? I don’t remember at all.”
“Honestly, after last night, I should have known that might happen. I wore you out.”
“Yeah.” I try to kiss him again, but he holds me still. “You thought I left. You thought I changed my mind?”
“It made too much sense for me not to think that.”
He shakes his head slowly, wrapping his fingers in my hair again so that I have no choice but to look at him. “I meant what I said. I’m not taking it back. I regret nothing about what we did, and I’m not stopping either.”
Butterflies flutter in my stomach. “Okay,” I say. I can’t believe that it’s true, but he’s here, and he’s kissing me. God, yes. “Did I tell you where the bookstore was, too?”
“No, I figured that out on my own. It’s not a secret.”
“True.” We stare at each other for a moment. “I’m sorry that I didn’t remember.”
His mouth tips up into a half-smile. “I’m sorry I didn’t leave a note.”
“What meeting did you have to go to?”
Bryce rolls his eyes and wraps his arms more fully around me. “I had to drive home and change. I don’t live in Waterton any more, about half-way in between. But you remember my sister Marcy?” I nod. “She’s having a baby, and I promised that I’d help with things for a baby shower. Little did I know that helping with a baby shower would mean I would do things like making place cards with calligraphy. I had to meet with her this morning to make sure I knew everything that she wanted. And then I had to pick up the blank cards from the place here in the city.”
I grin up at him. “You’re going to do calligraphy?”
“I’ve been practicing,” he says. “But I’m going to hope that it’s the thought that counts. When the place cards look like a child wrote them, it will be endearing because it’s a baby shower.”
“That’ll be sweet,” I say. “I’m sure she’ll be happy with whatever you come up with.”
“But I remember something,” Bryce says.
“Oh?”
He nods. “I remember that you’re particularly good with things like this, and if I’m not mistaken, you’ve got some calligraphy skills.”
“I might.”
He deliberately rubs his hands up and down my back. “What do I have to do to bribe you into helping me with this?”
From the back room, Elle yells, “She likes pizza!”
We both startle, because we completely forgot that she was there. And then I laugh. “I do like pizza.”
Bryce raises an eyebrow. “If I buy you a pizza, you’ll help me with the place cards?”
“How about this,” I say. “You start by buying me a pizza, and we’ll see how the night goes.”
“Mmm,” he says. “That’s a bargain I can live with.”
I’m still sore from last night, but right now my body doesn’t give a shit, and I swear I hear Elle laughing as Bryce leans down to kiss me, and we’re interrupted by the bell over the door and the next customer of the day.
6
I’m distracted for the rest of the day, because Bryce stays in the store. He browses, eventually picking a book and settling into one of the stuffed armchairs I keep in the corners of the store so that people can read. “Don’t you need to work?” I ask him at one point.
He just smirks at me and shakes his head. It occurs to me that I don’t even know what he does now. I tried not to know, cause knowing would have just made me more interested.
Elle corners me in the back room when there’s a lull in customers. “Holy shit, Katti,” she whispers. “I don’t give a fuck if he is your father’s best friend, that man is lickable.”
“I know,” I say, “and I’ve wanted him for years. But I don’t know what’s going to happen when my family finds out. It will kill them.”
“Would it really?” she asks. “They wouldn’t be happy that two people they both love found happiness together?”
I consider the possibility, but I can’t erase the gnawing anxiety in my gut. "I don’t think so. First, we slept together last night, and I know we both want each other, but there’s no kind of permanence yet. And second, how would you feel if the man that you’d known since college started fucking the girl he’s known since she was a kid?”
She makes a face. “Yeah, I see your point. But you’re both adults now. You’re both at a very different place in your lives. I think it’s fine.”
“Well, thanks,” I say. “At least one person does.”
“And seriously? If he has any hot British friends? Sign me the fuck up.”
“Unfortunately, most of my friends are American. Some of them are hot though. I’ll keep it in mind,” Bryce says from the door. I think it’s the first time that I’ve ever seen Elle blush. But she does, and I whip around. “You’re sneaky,” I say. “I didn’t hear you at all.”
He smiles. “I thought I might go pick up dinner for the two of us so we can eat while we work.”
“That would be nice.”
“Asian or Italian?”
“Asian.”
He leans forward and pulls me in for a kiss. “Done. Will we be working here or at your house?”
“Here,” I say. “We have room back here with the tables that I don’t at home.”
“Then I’ll be back soon.”
I bite my lip. “Okay.”
Bryce disappears, and I glare at Elle. “Thank you, for that.”
“I mean, he said that he’d keep it in mind,” she says, grinning. “But point taken.”
Glancing at my watch, I realize that it’s late. “Wow, that day went by fast.”
“No,” Elle laughs. “That day went by distracted. And do you mind if I head out? You inspired me, and I actually have a date tonight.”
“Absolutely.” I practically shove her out of the back room. “You stayed late last night and I didn’t even have a chance to tell you how good the store looked when I came in this morning. By all means, fuck off and go get some.”
“I would say the same to you,” she says, sticking out her tongue. “But I’m absolutely sure that’s going to happen. Just try not to have sex on the actual books?”
“Goodbye, Elle.”
She waves and grabs her bag, and I hear the bell over the door ring. I tidy up things, and check out a couple more customers before the store officially closes. I balance the register and make some notes about things that I need to order tomorrow before I hear a small knock and look up to see Bryce at the door brandishing a couple bags of take-out boxes.
I open the door for him, and he slips inside. As he passes, I get a hit of woodsy cologne, and I swear to god, I swoon. That scent is full of memory and promise, combined with a feeling of hunger. Both for food, and for so much more than that.
“Where should I set it up?”
“In the back,” I say, following him. It looks like he bought the entire store and brought it with him.
He starts placing all the containers out. “I made sure to get the orange chicken. I know that’s your favorite.”
“You remember that?” It makes me feel strange. I’ve pushed away our history for so long that it surprises me.
“Of course. I know that orange chicken is your favorite. You love to sleep in on the weekends. Your favorite color is purple, and you don’t like country music.”
There’s an unexpected burst of emotion that swells up in my chest. It feels like too much. All of it, and I have to look away as the world blurs in front of me. I remember things about him too. That he loves to grow his own herbs and cook
. That his first favorite book was The Chronicles of Narnia. That he’d much rather be outdoors if he can help it. A thousand memories that had been too painful to hang on to bubble up and through me to the surface. I know him, and now I might get the chance to know him.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, his arm coming around me. I close my eyes when he tilts my face up to his so that he doesn’t see my tears. But he knows anyway. “Are you okay?”
I just lean into him, leaning my head on his chest, feeling his strength. “I just…I never let myself think about you. Because I wanted it too badly. Because it hurt to think about you. But I remember all of things about you, and the fact that you noticed anything about me…I can’t wrap my head around it.”
“Why not?”
I can’t find the words. They’re there, but I don’t know how to speak somehow. How do you tell someone that you don’t know how to deal with getting everything that you’ve ever wanted?
I already have a good life. I have a good friends and family, a job and store that I love, and the only missing thing was him. It almost doesn’t seem fair that it could be real. And I don’t know how long it’s going to take for it to sink in that it actually is. So I just wrap my arms around him and let him hold me.
His lips brush the top of my head, and it’s perfect. The most natural sensation in the world. We fit like it was meant to be this way, and for the first time, I’m starting to think that maybe it actually was.
Eventually he moves just a little, and I feel him take in a breath. “Tell me about the store. I’ve never been here other than today. I knew about it, but what made you start a book store? That wasn’t what you planned for in college.”
“No,” I say, pulling away to sit down and feeling a lot steadier. “Not directly at least. Art history doesn’t exactly have a lot of practical applications for jobs if you’re not in a museum field or the education field. But I had a business minor too, and that’s been really helpful.”
“But why a bookstore?” he presses, handing me a container of orange chicken.