Last Time We Kissed_A Second Chance Romance

by Nicole Snow

  I might as well talk to my boss about coming back early. I'm mapping the conversation in my head, wondering if I'll be sent straight back to Beijing, when he turns away from me, beginning a slow walk across the ship.

  Apparently, even my presence at his shoulder is too much. I don't know if he wants to be alone today, or forever.

  I give him a few minutes alone before I step up, sheepishly whispering behind him. “If it's over, and you'd like me to go, I can.”

  “Go? What the hell do you mean?” he turns, his eyes blue fire.

  “I mean, it's over, isn't it? We lost. He couldn't have been more unimpressed with me if I'd spat in his face for the nasty things he said to you.”

  Cal smiles, small and tenuous, but it brings such a delicious glow to his gorgeous face. “I miss your glasses, doll. You're beautiful without them, too, but you used to wear your innocence on your sleeve.”

  “I got Lasik a few years ago,” I say, puzzled. “What have my glasses got to do with anything?”

  “You're the same woman without them, aren't you? Older and wiser, sure, but same heart. Same spirit. Don't believe you'd be standing here with me right now participating in this facade if you'd changed for the worse.”

  “Of course. I did what I had to.”

  He lays a hand on my shoulder, an instant signal to my heart to quicken. “Then you should know I'm not so different, either. Not at my core. Would the Cal you knew at Maynard ever give up this fucking easy?”

  He makes me smile. Shaking my head, I whisper one word, slipping into a chill that goes up my spine having nothing to do with the windy ride across the sea. “No.”

  “Exactly. Come here, beautiful.” He doesn't give me a chance to pull away. No time to second guess what happens a second later.

  His kiss is fierce, hot, and oh-so-nice. Cal attacks my mouth like it's natural, like we're more than frauds, sinking his tongue into mine, owning me from the inside out. His fingertips dig into my skin, too hard to be a proper peck. Too long to even be a normal kiss between lovers.

  This is want. It's a living symbol of the desire flickering in my nerves, alive and magnetic, surrendering me to him for the next few seconds without the slightest protest.

  It's plenty wrong, but I allow it because I hope it helps him feel better after the disaster an hour ago.

  Heck, maybe I allow it because I want it, too. His hands, his lips, and his five o'clock shadow are a comfort. A very dangerous one, but a kindness nonetheless. It's the first time I really notice the black petals and vines with their tangled thorns stamped across the back of his hand as it slides down my cheek, returning to my side.

  It takes me a long, terse breath to recover. “And what was that?”

  “More practice. We aren't done, Maddie. If we can't convince my old man directly, we'll get to him through the senior partners and the board. Spence and Cade's dads have been good to me over the years, but they never forgot the bad. They're too afraid it isn't all behind me to go against dad. If I ever wind up with my share in the company and its money, they only see dire consequences.”

  “If you think it's worth it, we'll try,” I say, giving him a nod. I owe him another shot, as long as he's treating me like a decent human being. Jesus, maybe more than decent, if I'm being honest. “When did you get this?”

  I grab his hand, holding it up, marveling at how heavy and strong it is. He looks down, new ice in his eyes, reminding me I'd better not get too comfortable or ask too many questions.

  “Jail. Black rose. Has to do with something private that went down there.”

  Message read, loud and clear. He doesn't want to go further. Rather than probe more, I walk with him to parking on the lower level, hand-in-hand, seeing how we're only minutes away from docking.

  Maybe the worst is over. If we're able to avoid another ferocious confrontation with his dad, then I think there's a chance I'll survive this fake fiancée thing without losing my mind, or my heart.

  I'm in our old neighborhood the next morning, preparing to say hello to my parents before I get back to the condo and prep for our next chance to shine with the senior partners at Cal's firm.

  It's always a little weird coming home. The old houses and rental duplexes haven't changed a bit since my college days. My parents live on the lazy side of the university, pockmarked with ramshackle houses and quirky businesses too forgotten to be gentrified by the city's housing boom.

  I try to quell my nerves when I knock at the door, expecting to see my mother's soft, pleasantly plump face appear through the glass before she lets me in. Instead, I see a girl in her early twenties, just a couple years younger than me, sticking her tongue out like a twelve year old.

  “Home already, Kat? Lucky me. Thought you had to work afternoons?”

  “Boss gave me the evening off to say hello to my big sis. Come the hell here.” She opens the door and sweeps me into a hug. “I'll make us some coffee.”

  My little sister is grown up, but clearly no less a brat. We embrace just the same as close kin who haven't seen each other for the better part of a year.

  She leads me into our old kitchen. The little stools at the breakfast bar are the same as I remember. I take my old spot at the one with a rickety leg, tapping my fingers impatiently on the peeling counter as I watch her fix our coffee. While a silver gooseneck kettle heats on the stove, she measures several spoons of coffee grounds into a glass chemex lined with a filter. Then slowly, lovingly, she pours the water across the grounds.

  “Smells heavenly,” I say, inhaling the coffee-infused air. “If there's one thing I miss about home, it's the coffee. The stuff they're serving in Beijing just doesn't cut it. If you ever have a chance to go overseas, I bet you'll teach them a thing or two.”

  Katrina rolls her eyes, watching as the last boiling water sifts through the grounds, draining dark brown goodness into the glass. “Oh, sure. I'll be on the first plane the second Mr. Kolaris opens his first international store. Sorry, Maddie, we can't all be international hotshot wunderkids.”

  I smile sadly. There's more than a little jealousy in her voice, but she's usually supportive. For now, Kat has accepted the same fate I once seemed destined to, working at the small Greek coffee shop a few blocks away. It's close enough to bike to, even in the heavy rain. A major plus because that's the only vehicle she can afford on her tips and minimum wage.

  “So, what really brings you back here?” she asks, sliding over my coffee. I take a few seconds to answer, savoring the rich flavors on my tongue. “Can't believe you'd take a leave of absence from paradise just a couple months after they finally sent you abroad like you always wanted.”

  “Business doesn't care what I want,” I say, narrowing my eyes. I wonder how much my father passed along from the story I concocted when I told my parents I was coming home for several weeks. If they'd kept it on the down low like I asked, Kat wouldn't know it's a leave of absence at all.

  “And what business is that?” she says, chugging her coffee like it's water. “Sterner doesn't do much here in Mandarin, I suppose. You're lucky they didn't drag you up to their new headquarters in Anchorage to freeze your nipples off.”

  I laugh at the notion. The company's strongman CEO, Ty, spends most of the year in Alaska, the official base of operations every employee in Seattle and beyond contends with. Once upon a time, he rocked the boat quite a bit when he married his stepsister, a scandalous slice of drama making me all too aware why I'm really here, and what I need to keep hiding from my nosy little sister.

  “I'll keep my nipples as long as I'm home, thanks. If you must know, I'm doing some side work with an old friend.” The last word tastes hard and bitter in my mouth. Whatever the hell Calvin is, he isn't my friend, as he recently made painfully clear.

  “Boyfriend, huh? I always knew you were hiding something from us.” Kat says it so nonchalantly I almost spit out my delicious coffee.

  “I'm not here for a boyfriend, sis. Don't know where you got that idea. I'm happily sing
le and way too busy to pick over the expats, co-workers, and digital nomads who make up my options in Beijing.”

  “Duh. That's why you came back here to land a man. Who is he?”

  She just doesn't quit, does she? Rolling my eyes, I drain half my cup before I set it down, rolling over a few different options in my head.

  There's a decent chance someone will find out the truth about my fake engagement sooner or later. If it's inevitable, I'll still welcome a delay. I can't put a price on time, however long I have to concoct a story about why I'm getting married, and then again when it falls through.

  My little game with Cal has an expiration date. It's the only saving grace from getting too deep in drama or too attached.

  “Madds, hello?” Kat waves her hand over my face, reminding me I haven't answered.

  “Katrina, why do you even care? I want to have a good time here. I don't want drama,” I say, hoping my eyes are sufficiently patronizing for a big sis. “I get it. You're frustrated because you're stuck here, putting in your hours, trying to entertain yourself in this expensive, crazy town. I've seen the cost for a few drinks and a round of oysters – one night in Seattle is two week's worth in China. Admit it – you'd love to show mom and dad the daughter they banked on isn't as perfect as they think.”

  “You think this is jealousy talking?” she snaps, snatching my cup for a refill. “Truth is, I'm worried. I'm just curious why you're lying to everyone instead of just fucking telling us you're engaged.”

  “Engaged?” My heart almost stops. She slides my cup back slowly, a satisfied 'gotcha' spark in her eyes. “Where did you hear that?”

  “Every hipster who's on his laptop at Roasted reads Seattle Widgets. Techies everywhere. Don't think I'd have missed their local gossip page today if I tried.” Smiling, she pulls out her phone, and taps it a few times. When she turns it toward me, I see myself on the screen.

  At the charity auction.

  In Cal's arms.

  Completely swept away in his sudden, shocking, infuriating kiss.

  FORGET THE PAST. CALVIN RANDOLPH MAKES IT OFFICIAL, AND YOU WON'T BELIEVE HOW HOT IT IS!

  The cringe-worthy clickbait headline alone would burn my cheeks down, but the fact that it's accompanied by a banner sized pic of us locking lips, his bright blue eyes drilling through my soul, makes every drop of blood in my veins lava.

  “Please, just let me break the news to mom and dad,” I say, my voice cratering to a whisper.

  “Maddie, you don't even sound happy. What's really going on?” She props her face up, elbows on the counter, giving me a more concerned look than I've seen for years. “I can't believe you're marrying him...but the thing that really surprises me is, you sound like you can't believe it either.”

  “It's not like that. Things happened really fast. Cal, he kept in touch after everything that went down at the academy. I wrote him for years. Found out we were on the same page about a lot of things. We decided to meet and...” It's hard to continue. Her eyes are huge, accusing, disbelieving. “Aw, screw it. I owe him one, Kat. I don't know if you were too young to understand everything that happened at Maynard years ago, but if he hadn't gotten between me and a disaster, I'd be nowhere. Now, he needs my help.”

  “Of course I remember the news. It was all over,” Kat says, folding her arms and sticking out her nose, as if I owe her an immediate apology for questioning her crystal clear memory. She quickly gets over it and sends me a baffled look. “Wait, so...are you engaged to him, or not?”

  I furrow my brow, wondering if there's even an answer to her question. “We are. But it's only temporary. He needs a fiancée, a wife, a woman to get his father to change his trust so he doesn't lose everything before he passes. Two, maybe three months tops – that's all the time his father's got – we'll know the outcome. We'll dissolve it. Pretend it never happened. I'll go on my merry way, and I'll never have to think about actually marrying Cal again.”

  Why does saying that basic cold fact feel like a blow to my stomach?

  At first, Kat looks stunned. She sets her coffee cup on the counter quickly, like she's seconds away from dropping it, and then flattens herself against the old fridge with its rust spots, releasing the world's longest sigh.

  “Whew. And mom thought I sold out when I skipped community college to stay with my crappy indie band.”

  “Hey, I'm not doing this for money.” It isn't that simple. She doesn't understand.

  I should stop expecting anything different.

  It's obvious, isn't it? No one will ever get the tragic connection between us. They weren't there for the heartbreak, the gnawing guilt, the years spent wondering where he'd gone when he never wrote back, and how badly I'd mucked up his life.

  “Sis, I don't even want to know,” she says, holding out a hand, feigning to push me away. “You can keep your secrets to yourself, as long as you tell our parents. They deserve a run down, before they hear it from everybody else. Dad takes heart medication now, as you know.”

  I do. He doesn't need more surprises, certainly not any rude, bizarre ones thanks to me.

  Cup in hand, she marches out of the kitchen. I hear her clomp upstairs and slam the weathered door to her room.

  Just like old times. I'm left alone to stew in my stress.

  As unbearable as Kat can be, she has a point. I can't let mom and dad find out I'm engaged to the boy who became the talk of every hushed whisper Maynard parents uttered that year on some stupid blog, or through the local gossip mill.

  Of course, that means there's a new dimension in this insane game of pretend we're playing. We're not just convincing his straight-buttoned business associates and screwed up father anymore.

  We have to convince my freaking parents. And every time I imagine how that's bound to go, I wish to holy heaven sis' coffee came with a nice splash of hemlock creamer.

  Cal makes himself scarce the next few days leading up to dinner with the partners. I've always been adaptable, able to conform to morning birds and night owls alike, but when he's in full work mode, I barely see him.

  He's gone before sunup, when I roll out of bed and pad into the kitchen. I spend the daytime more alone and confused in the vast Emerald City than I've ever been. A dense summer rain brings a fog through the streets for the better part of the next two days. I visit the art museum and spend time under an umbrella near the Great Wheel next to the water, biting my lip the whole time, hoping my phone doesn't ping with a voicemail or worried texts from my parents.

  I'm not sure whether they'll be angry or just confused. They don't like secrets.

  I haven't even had a chance to talk to him about the introduction yet, and I still don't have a clue how I'll make it remotely normal.

  It's one thing to kiss, hold hands, and put on these sweet lies in front of rich strangers. Quite another to do it to mom and dad – especially when Kat knows the truth, and made me crack like a walnut the second she gave me her scornful eyes.

  The evening before dinner, I'm moping next to the window at his condo, waiting for my Chinese takeout to arrive. My phone vibrates next to me, and I hold my breath as I flick the button to see the screen.

  Cal: Coming home early, doll. Show me what you're wearing tomorrow. I'd go with something sleek and sexy, considering the occasion.

  Ridiculous. It's the first time I've heard from him in days, and a laughable what are you wearing text is what I get? I wouldn't have gotten it quicker on Tinder.

  Maddie: I don't know. Seems like I'm engaged to a ghost. And I don't know if I believe in them.

  Cal: Stop fucking around.

  Cal: Ghosts don't make their fake fiancées wet. You're also the only one I'll ever imagine moaning.

  His last text sends a vicious adrenaline shot through my heart before I even see what's attached. It's a pic of Cal, sitting at his desk in his best selfie pose, half the buttons on his shirt unclasped, revealing a hint of the dark tattoos framing his chest. It hangs open too far to be considered business casual. />
  Even from the screen, his blue eyes pierce me, and the wild, tempting smirk on his lips settles like a drug. I cross my legs a couple times, resisting the damp heat pooling near my thighs, outrageous as it is uncontrollable.

  Unfortunately, this marvelous bastard has a divine gift for doing everything he threatens, and more.

  I slam my phone against the chair's armrest with a huff, wondering how I'll ever snap out of it before he shows up tonight. I'm already starting to miss the days when he was no more than a mysterious afterthought. My fingers punch the screen and I chew my lips, tapping a quick response, hopefully my last before I plot my escape.

  Maddie: You're crazy if you think we're playing games.

  Then my phone pings again. I resist the urge to look for all of thirty seconds, before I snatch it in my palm, defusing a hateful smile.

  Cal: Doll, I'm serious. Play dress up for me before I'm home in the next hour, or I'll drag you down the hall and consider showing you games are the last thing on my mind.

  I don't know what's gotten into him.

  I don't care.

  All that's certain is, I wait about five more minutes without replying before I stand up, stuff my phone into my purse, and retreat to my bedroom. That's where I crash for a nap to shake this wicked flame he's sparked in my pussy, but not before I peel off my old outfit, and slip into the jade green evening dress, black heels with gold bow-ties, and matching gold necklace with ruby tips I still don't feel grown up enough to wear.

  I can't believe what I'm doing for this impossible man.

  Maybe it's because this is the first fun I've had since this started, without being intimidated by the ferocious spark between us.

  Fine. I'll give his push just enough pull to stay on his good side.

  For now.

  “Evening, doll. You're lovely when you sleep, but I think I prefer you bright-eyed and bushy tailed.” He wakes me with a kiss.