He poured Steve another beer from the pitcher and waved as Dylan looked around the bar. Jenna said something and Dylan leaned to whisper in her ear. Whatever he said must have shocked her, because her jaw dropped and she smacked him on the arm. Selfishly, he wished they had walked in fighting instead of goofing around like teenagers in love.
Finally, Jenna spotted Alex and held his gaze for half a second. She pointed him out to Dylan.
Jenna had been mad at him this morning, and he understood why. When he’d left her apartment in panic mode and saw the note from Yolanda, he knew her offer would help him calm his nerves and forget about Jenna for a moment. He’d never guessed Jenna would walk in on them in the morning, but he was glad she did. Even though she was mad, seeing her in the morning gave him a chance to hide his feelings, to push her away, before their friendship ended in pieces.
Still, he had the memory of that kiss. Her sweet, soft lips. Her flowery scent. Like an angel sent to him as a gift. In that one kiss, Alex had admitted he couldn’t love her any more than he did. He knew she’d get over the hurt he’d cause by pushing her away. She had to for their friendship to survive. For the moment, he was glad she had Dylan. She’d forget about last night and be with Dylan, and things would go back to the new normal.
His friends sat at the table, toasting him and reliving the last three nights. Scott relayed Alex’s stats to Dominic and answered his questions about the game as Penny poured drinks and Steve talked business with Alex.
When Steve asked Alex what he would do if he were traded somewhere, Alex felt Jenna’s gaze on him. She scowled when he told Steve he would go wherever he was wanted, then she stood and walked to the jukebox.
“What did you do to her?” Dylan asked.
“Huh?” he answered, watching her walk away.
“She said you annoyed her last night.”
“Did I? I do that so much, I can’t even keep track anymore. I better go talk to her.” He swallowed the rest of his drink and slammed his glass on the table. Then he stood and followed Jenna.
The glow from the jukebox lit her face as she examined its offerings, her back to the table. He leaned against the wall next to her, and she fake smiled.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi,” she said flatly to the jukebox. Not her usual “hey, you” that she said only to him. “Great game. Really, you should be proud of your performance this weekend.”
“Thanks.” She faked smiled again, so he called her out on it. “Why are you fake smiling at me?”
“What? I’m not fake smiling at you.”
“I can tell the difference, Jen.” They stood in silence, and Jenna put money into the machine. “Look, I’m sorry you walked in on me and Yo this morning. It was a little awkward, I guess.”
“Ya think?” She huffed as she punched buttons.
“What do you care anyway, Jen? You have Dylan now. It’s good to see you both together,” he said, knowing in his heart of hearts that was a lie.
“Really?” she asked, calling his bluff. He punched a number into the machine for a song he liked. Jenna snapped her head to look at him. “I’m glad it’s all that easy for you, Alex.”
“Last night was a mistake. It wasn’t ‘us.’”
“I was going to tell you the same thing this morning before I walked in on you and your girlfriend. Glad to see we are on the same page,” Jenna said.
Alex’s heart cracked a little. “Good.”
“Great,” she snapped.
He turned back to the table and shook his head as he stomped away. He’d tried to make things right and she’d jumped down his throat. Just as he was about to throw something, Dylan stood and embraced him.
“I have something for you,” Dylan said. He opened his wallet and took out an old, crumbled piece of paper and handed it to Alex.
Jenna returned to the table as Alex opened the paper. He recognized his own handwriting. It was a note from Alex to Dylan. According to the date on the letter, Alex was eleven when he wrote it.
“Jesus, Dylan. What is this?”
“You wrote it to me when we were kids,” he said. “Read it.”
Alex read it aloud to the group. “‘Dear Dylan. Today on June 4, I kicked your ass at baseball at Schooner.’” Alex looked up at the group, who were silently watching him read. “Schooner was a park we played at,” he explained.
“Keep reading,” Penny said, waving her hands.
Dylan nervously spun his beer glass. He glanced at Jenna, who grinned.
Alex looked down at the note. “‘I want you to know that when I make it to the majors’—” His throat clenched. The emotions stifled him, and he didn’t think he could read the rest. He looked up and saw Dylan and Jenna watching him.
Jenna smiled at Alex. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “Go on.”
He took a deep breath. “‘When I make it to the majors, I will buy you a car. A Porsche.’” Alex laughed as tears blurred his eyes. Jenna’s eyes looked teary too. Dylan watched him as if Alex were the movie star, not he himself.
Alex continued. “‘But you have to keep this note or else I’ll deny ever saying that, ha-ha. Thanks for always practicing with me, you douche. You are way better than Steve. He sucks, ha-ha.’”
The group laughed. “Hey!” Steve protested.
“It’s true,” Dylan said.
Steve turned to Penny. “I was the smart one.” She kissed him on the cheek.
Alex continued. “‘I love you, man. More than I love Buffy, but different, you know. Signed, Alexander Popovich, future star.’”
Alex looked to Dylan and saw his lifelong rock. His brother. The person who stuck with him through thick and thin. Who shared his mother with Alex when Alex’s walked out. Who helped him plan a funeral for his uncle and never left his side through the whole ordeal. Who encouraged him to keep going. Alex didn’t deserve him as a friend.
He wiped his eyes. “I can’t believe you kept this.”
“I knew it would happen someday,” Dylan stuttered. “I love you, man.”
“I love you too,” Alex said, embracing him. “Fucking Barnes. You’re the best.”
Then Dylan said, “So when can I expect my Porsche?”
Everyone laughed as the mood lightened. Over Dylan’s shoulder, Alex saw it on Jenna’s face too. Whatever feelings they had acted on the night before would have to be buried. Dylan mattered more.
Chapter 23
Jenna
Monday morning, Jenna left Dylan a note, put on her running clothes, and snuck out of her apartment. Tired but determined, she walked the stairs to Alex’s apartment, praying he was alone.
She used her key and tiptoed through his living room to his kitchen, where she dug around for his coffeemaker. Since he always used hers, not his, she found it crammed in the back of a cabinet. She dusted it off and set it to brew two cups, then walked to his bedroom.
She sighed in relief when she peeked in and saw only him. She pushed the door open, crept to his side, and knelt next to the bed. The blanket barely covered his naked chest, and she took a minute to appreciate the view. Then she rested her head on the pillow next to him and whispered, “Good morning, sunshine.”
He rustled and grimaced, so she nudged his bare shoulder. “Hey, sleeping beauty,” she sang.
Finally, he opened those teal eyes she loved. “Stecs?” he said in his raspy morning voice. “What are you doing here?”
“Did you forget? It’s Monday. We run on Mondays.”
He rubbed his face and then closed his eyes, pulling the blanket to his shoulders. Jenna squeezed his nose.
“Ouch!” He squinted and swatted her away. “Wait. You’re serious?” he asked, then yawned.
She nodded.
“You are out of your damn mind if you think I’m running,” he said. “I’m exhausted. There’s a jackhammer beating on my brain right now.” He rolled over, turning his back to her and settling into the blankets.
“No, no,” she said, nudging his shoulder
again. “Come on, up and at ‘em.”
He groaned. “Aren’t you supposed to be with Dylan ‘til Tuesday?”
She stood and walked to his dresser and then picked up a photo of her and Alex at the stadium. “He needs his rest. He says we wear him out when he’s here. I left him a note.”
He turned to face her and propped himself on his elbow. “So I get you all to myself?”
“Sure do. I’m sorry I’ve been…moody lately,” she said, replacing the picture. “I want to get back to us.”
Alex sat up and stretched. “Me too. The other night—”
“Forget it. Please. Let’s forget it.”
He leaned back against his headboard, stretching his arms overhead. “I have Dylan downstairs,” she reminded herself as well as him. “What I did, what I said at Hank’s, wasn’t right. And I shouldn’t have been mean to you about Yolanda. I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to say you’re sorry.”
“Well, I am. Let’s wipe the slate clean and start new, okay?”
Jenna caught his eye and smiled at him through the mirror, then she rummaged through his drawers. She dug out a T-shirt and shorts and threw them his way.
“You’re serious about running? I slept like three hours, Jen.”
“You have all day to sleep. Trust me, I have a man in my bed waiting for me. This is going to be a nice short run. But on Mondays…” she started.
“…we run,” Alex finished. “Let’s do it.”
Within minutes, they bounced down the staircase and out the door into the drizzly, gray morning, traded iPods, and ran their “quick” route through the neighborhood. They ended in the park and sat in the soggy grass, oblivious to the rain.
“You should have made Dylan run with us,” Alex said.
“Are you kidding? That man would be perfectly content to lounge around in bed all day.”
He smirked, and Jenna smacked him in the arm. “I don’t mean it like that. He’s really low key. I find it odd that you two are close. You’re so different.”
“Maybe that’s why it works,” Alex said. The rain turned to a misty drizzle, and Alex looked to the sky. His face glistened from sweat and the moisture in the air.
Jenna copied his position. “It’s nice when he’s around. Relaxing, calm…”
“The sex helps with that,” Alex said.
“It doesn’t hurt, that’s for sure.”
“Jenna,” Alex said, focusing on her and slinging an arm around her shoulders. “If you’re still in the market for a prince, you picked the right guy. You can’t find a better one than Dylan.”
What about you? she thought but didn’t say. What about when we kissed and it was perfect? Instead she said, “I don’t know if Dylan and I are written in the stars.”
“Why not?”
“Distance, mostly,” she lied. Being in love with two guys who were best friends didn’t bode well. “We’ll see, I guess. I’m happy for now. I think he’s happy.”
“He definitely is,” Alex said. “And I’m glad you are too. I love that fucker.”
“He’s easy to love. So are you, you know,” she added.
“I’m glad you think so.” He didn’t look convinced.
***
Clare
Clare spent the next two days showing Lucas the fun parts of LA and taking photographs. She took him to the bookstore and introduced him to her coworkers. Mary commented that Clare “sure did have a lot of cute boyfriends.” The comment didn’t seem to register with Lucas.
Next, she brought him to the beach and listened to him complain about the sand.
“It gets all over,” he said.
“You get used to it.”
Their time ticked by and with each day, each hour, she dreaded saying good-bye. Even though he didn’t seem to care. He showed no emotion about leaving her in Cali. Even after spending the past few nights in her bed.
She thought about Dylan in New York with Jenna, working on their long-distance relationship. She didn’t want that kind of relationship with Lucas—she wanted to actually be with the person with whom she’d share her life. Still, as she sank into the comfort of Lucas and home, she formulated a plan.
She asked him to help her check out a horse farm where she could volunteer and ride.
“Sugar, I don’t envision there are many horse farms in Los Angeles,” he commented.
“California is so much more than the city,” she said, borrowing one of Dylan’s favorite lines. After a quick online search, they took a ride to check it out.
Lucas beamed when they pulled into the long gravel driveway of the first farm. He talked to the stable manager, owners, and volunteers, asking question after question. When they arrived at the second one, the owner let him ride and asked a health-related question pertaining to one of the horses. When they left, Lucas and the owner exchanged contact information.
After checking out a handful of places, Clare let Lucas drive her truck back to the city, pointing out different discoveries in the passing landscape. When they’d been quiet for a while, he held her hand and lifted it to his mouth to kiss. “What’s on your mind?”
Clare took a deep breath. Is this what I want? She wasn’t sure but said it anyway, “It’s a little cheaper to live out here than the city, you know.”
“I didn’t know. You thinking of moving out of the city?”
Clare couldn’t fight the overwhelming feeling of security she had with Lucas. The stability of knowing they loved each other. It would be so easy to be with him. “I would if you wanted to join me,” she said, her voice shaking.
Lucas’s eyes grew wide, and he tilted his head. Clare knew the expression well. She’d seen the “have you gone insane?” look many times over the past years. “Well?” she asked.
“You would want that, sugar? Me here with you?”
Clare nodded, and Lucas pulled the truck to the side of the road.
He shifted to look at her. “You know I can’t leave Nebraska, don’t you?” His eyes searched hers, and her bottom lip started to tremble. “Oh no. No crying.”
“I’m not crying.” She held back her tears and asked, “Why not?”
He reached for her and touched her cheek. “Because I belong there,” he said softly, using the line she had written him eight years ago on the photo of the farm that hung in his bedroom. “That’s my farm and those are my horses, maybe not in title but in my heart. It’s my family.”
“But I want you still.”
“You don’t, Clare. You’re just scared, but you don’t have to be. You can do this on your own.”
She nodded, then looked out the window. The truck started moving again.
“I’m sorry I even asked,” Clare said as Lucas pulled back onto the road.
“I’m glad you asked,” he said, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder. “It means the world to me.”
***
Tuesday came in a flash, and Clare took the morning off to drive Lucas to the airport. He had spent the entire weekend in the bedroom with her, and she had gotten used to him being there again. She watched him pack, avoiding his eyes, biting her lip, willing herself to keep it together.
He zipped up his bag and then unzipped it. “I almost forgot.”
He dug inside his bag and pulled out a little photo album. “They aren’t professional photographs like yours, but I thought they could give you a little piece of home.”
She smiled and flipped it open to a picture of her and Lucas when they first brought Mallory to the farm. Clare was sixteen, Lucas was twenty. They looked so young and happy. She flipped to another picture—Lucas and Clare at the prom with Cindy and her date. All these memories.
She held the album to her heart and squeezed it. “I’ll treasure it.”
“Oops, this too,” Lucas said, pulling out a metal tin.
Upon opening it, Clare smelled one of her favorite smells in the world. “Mama’s homemade fudge? Oh yum. I’ll call her tonight to thank her.”
“Th
at’s a good idea. She misses you.”
“I know, I know,” Clare said. “She hates me being here. I shouldn’t have complained to her as much as I did those first couple of weeks.”
“One more whiny phone call from you and she was going to make me come save you.”
Clare smacked him playfully on the arm. “I wasn’t whiny. I was adjusting.”
“You were whiny in the beginning. Then all of a sudden you weren’t. We didn’t know whether to be happy or sad about that.”
She pulled him into a hug. He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed until her feet lifted off the ground. “Thanks for taking care of them, Luke. I don’t know if you’ll ever know how much I love you,” she said, a tear falling down her cheek.
“If it’s half as much as I love you, it’s a ton,” he said, placing her down. They stood in silence, their arms around each other. “This morning when you were in the shower, I called a cab to bring me to the airport.”
“No! Why? I want to take you.”
“I can’t say good-bye to you in the airport. It’s too dramatic, even for Hollywood.”
“It’s not like we’ll never see each other again. I’ll be home to visit, and you can always come visit me. It’s only good-bye for now, not good-bye forever,” Clare said. “See. Not dramatic.”
“Well, it’s good-bye forever in some respects. And I only want to remember you here in this room with me, smiling. Is that okay?” Lucas kissed her forehead.
“Okay,” she said.
“There’s something I want to talk to you about before the cab comes.” He took her hands and they sat on the bed.
“Oh no. What’s wrong?”
“Have I ever steered you wrong?”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Never.”
“All right, so you have to listen and take my advice. It’s fine to have your friends and your memories of Nebraska, but you have to let go too. You are here, in California—even I’ll admit it’s a damn good state—and you have to start living here. Not just working here and being here. This is your life to build now. You know what I want you to do?”
The Love Square Page 21