The Thing About Love... (The Thing About... #1)

by J. M. Raphaelle

  ●●●

  I walk into the kitchen at a quarter past noon and find Marie still in her PJs. She looks like she just woke up too, but at least she's functional. She's making two bloody marys. She knows I hate them, but it's the only thing that's going help with this nasty hangover. My head is pounding.

  "Sam's asking about you," she leans against the counter and raises her iPhone to show me.

  "Why?"

  "Hmm, because Jack can't get a hold of you," she chuckles.

  "Oh, that. The phone's battery died, and in the state we got home last night, I totally forgot to charge it. I'll reach out to him when I've showered, and my brain is back online," I sit at the table to drink the bloody cocktail she's prepared for me.

  She can't believe I'm not running out of the room to check Jack's texts and explain myself to him. Last night I had genuine fun, and I met some very nice guys. I'm not interested in any of them of course, because frankly Jack is the only guy that takes my breath away.

  But this new me is taking control of her life and being responsible for her own decisions. I am the only one that can make me happy, not Jack or any other man. It's a cop-out to place the burden of my happiness, or lack thereof, on someone else.

  I admit it's taken me a while to come to this realization, but I'm here, and I'm not going back. I love Jack, and I want to be with him, but he has to want to be with me too.

  "I'm proud of you," says Marie, as if she knows what I'm thinking. She kisses me lightly on the top of my head and walks out of the kitchen.

  "I'm taking a shower," she blurts out, "finish that drink."

  I'm proud of myself too.

  Rob was right, how lucky am I to have found Jack. I didn't even have to go looking for him. I really should thank Sam.

  But I have to know where I stand with him and what his intentions are. Does he really care for me, or am I just a game he's enjoying between girlfriends? He's never made me feel that way, but his actions are sometimes questionable. There has to be something more than that damn code Marie keeps bringing up.

  Jack has been Mike's friend since they were kids, and I'm sure that weighs on him. But he's also made it clear I'm important to him. He proves it to me with every text, every word he says to me, every touch.

  So, what is it, Jack?

  ●●●

  I'm showered, my hair is dry, and I'm wearing my most comfy PJs. I feel so much better thanks to the shower and that awful drink Marie made for me.

  I'm sitting on my bed with my legs crossed, preparing to deal with Jack. I'm slightly disheartened. I won't take his crap, if that's what his texts were about.

  He would never…

  Just in case, I've made up my mind that I'm going to stand my ground.

  I did nothing wrong!

  I sigh, turn on my iPhone, and begin to read…

  Jack: You're having fun…

  Jack: Not that I don't want you to

  Jack: You look beautiful

  Jack: That's a very short dress

  Jack: I've had those stunning legs wrapped around mine

  Jack: Another drink or the same one?

  Jack: Still drinking?

  Jack: Where are you? Tell me I'll go get you

  Jack: Answer me!

  Jack: Why aren't you answering me?

  Jack: I see why

  Jack: Who's the guy? He's touching you

  Jack: He shouldn't be fucking touching you!

  Jack: You look happy. I want to make you that happy

  Jack: That smile is mine!

  Jack: I wanted to see you

  Jack: But you're there with that fucker

  Jack: Tell me you're home safe

  Jack: Please call me

  Jack: Text me or something…

  Jack: ANSWER ME Ellie

  Jack: Waiting…

  Jack: I'll wait all night

  Jack: ALL FUCKING NIGHT!

  Jack: I'M NOT FUCKING KIDDING!

  CHAPTER 25

  JACK'S WAITING TO hear from me. It's been hours since I told Marie I'd call him. I don't want to make him wait any longer.

  I thought his texts would be reproachful or accusatorial, but they're not. He's worried about me, worried about us, and that I get. I'm worried about us too.

  I call him.

  "Hi," he says quietly, picking up on the first ring.

  "Hi," I reply.

  "Are you okay?" he asks softly.

  "Yes."

  "You had a good night, then?" his tone thoughtful.

  "Yes. How was your boys' night?"

  "Not as fun," he answers somberly.

  "I'm sorry."

  "Not your fault. I didn't stay long," he says.

  "Hmm, are you okay?"

  "No." He sounds so bleak. It hurts to hear it.

  "What's wrong?"

  "I wanted to be with you last night."

  "But you went out with your boys," I remind him.

  "You were having a lot of fun."

  "I was," I reply honestly.

  He sighs.

  "But that doesn't mean I didn't miss you," I confess.

  "I'm glad you missed me," he replies relieved.

  We both remain quiet for a few seconds. I don't know what else to say. Should I bring up that it upset me when he didn't show me any affection after the training?

  It seems petty after all this.

  "You're working tomorrow?" he finally breaks the silence.

  "Yes, why?"

  "I'd like to hold you right now," he says.

  "You can, if you want to."

  "Can I come by?"

  "Yes."

  "On my way," he replies quickly, and we hang up.

  ●●●

  "Ellie, someone's here to see you," shouts Marie.

  I'm in my bedroom, lying on my bed watching a movie, my head resting on a pillow propped against the headboard.

  "Hey," Jack opens the door but doesn't walk in. He's hesitant, standing at my bedroom door, not entirely sure how I'm going to receive him.

  I open my arms to reassure him.

  He grins and walks in. He crawls into bed, kisses me on the lips and snuggles me. He places his head on my chest, wraps his arm around my waist and sighs, as if he's been holding it in for days.

  I feel awful seeing him like this. I didn't mean to upset him, but I also saw no harm in going out and having fun, when he was doing the same.

  I run my fingers through his hair and gently stroke his ear.

  "Mission Impossible III?" he asks.

  "Mhm," I reply.

  "Nice. Can I stay?"

  "Yes," I say softly, because nothing would make me happier.

  He gets up and removes his clothes, keeping only his boxers. He looks delectable. I'm aching to feel the warmth of his body next to me. But he also looks drained, his bluish-grays weary.

  "You're exhausted, aren't you?" I ask concerned.

  "Yes," he confesses. "I didn't sleep waiting to hear from you. I told you I'd wait up all night."

  I sigh and shake my head.

  My stubborn Jack.

  He's caught between his love for me and his loyalty to his friend. I briefly put myself in his shoes. How would I feel if Marie all of a sudden started dating Mike? Even though I don't love him anymore, I admit I'd hate it. I'd think it's disloyal, insensitive, and cruel.

  Maybe there is something to this "code" thing between guy friends. Perhaps Jack and I did break it, but we didn't do it intentionally. Code or not, it's too late for me. I love him.

  I lift the sheets so he can get back in bed. He happily snuggles next to me, in exactly the same position as before. I stroke his hair gently, and he falls asleep almost immediately.

  The movie is over, but it's only 8:00 p.m., and I'm not sleepy. I search the guide for another one and settle on reruns of Games of Thrones.

  I nudge Jack gently, and he stirs just enough for me to scurry
down so my pillow and head are on the bed. He doesn't let go of me. I kiss him gently on the forehead and get back to the perils of GOT.

  A few hours later, I've had enough and turn off the TV. I nudge Jack a bit again, so I can move from under his embrace. I manage it, lie on my side, and watch him sleep.

  He looks so peaceful, and his beautiful face is now worry-free. I kiss him lightly on the lips, and gently run the tips of my fingers through his hair. He doesn't wake, but the tiniest smile forms on his lips, and I sigh in love.

  I'm longing to make love to him, but I don't have the heart to wake him. It's my fault he's so beat, and he has to work tomorrow. He won't be at the top of his game, if he isn't well rested.

  I can't believe he didn't sleep last night, because I went out with Marie. I understand why he felt threatened, after seeing the pictures Marie posted on IG. It was my fault. I egged her on. I wanted him to see me happy without him. But the truth is I want him, only him. I want him in my bed forever — preferably conscious because I have carnal plans for us. But tonight, I get to watch him sleep, and somehow, this feels even more intimate.

  I turn off the lights, and lie on my back. He wraps his arm around me again, one of his legs between mine, and he buries his face in the nape of my neck.

  "My Ellie," he sighs quietly.

  I fall into a blissful sleep, because he's here with me.

  ●●●

  Waking up with Jack felt familiar, intimate, and natural. I wonder why? He's never been in my bed before. But it's very clear to me that this is how we belong…together.

  I'm dressed and ready to head out to work with Marie. I couldn't bring myself to wake him when I got up, and I'm glad, because I got to watch him sleep again.

  I sit on the bed next to him and kiss him lightly on the lips. He opens his eyes.

  "Morning, baby," I smile at him.

  He smiles back content and relaxed. "I love waking up with you," he pulls me in for another soft kiss.

  "Me too, baby. Thank you for coming over," I run my fingers through his hair.

  "Thank you for inviting me."

  "I have to get to work, but stay and rest a bit more. I'll text you later," I contemplate him.

  He's so damn gorgeous, and he's naked in my bed!

  I bite my lip and move to get up, before I decide to call in sick and make love to him all day long. He pulls me down to him and nibbles at my earlobe.

  "Okay, baby," he whispers. "I'll stay just a minute longer, because your scent is on this pillow."

  I pull away and give him a dazzling, love struck smile. My heart is fluttering just looking at him. The worry in his eyes is gone. He's happy and content. I'm thrilled I have something to do with it. I lean down and kiss him again.

  I can barely make myself leave him, but I do.

  He won't stay long after I leave. I'm certain he has to be at his office soon.

  Looking back as I exit my room, I imagine what our life together could be like.

  It looks pretty damn amazing from here!

  Yet we have a serious conversation pending, if we're going to have a real chance at making it. He can't have reservations about my love and commitment to him, and I can't doubt his for me. I'm going to give him some space and not push him to tell Mike about us, not yet. That's going to be one volcanic conversation, when it actually happens. Maybe it should be me that tells Mike. I'll run it by him at some point.

  CHAPTER 26

  LATER TODAY, I HAVE another, and hopefully last, interview at the magazine.

  Jack knows how important this is to me and has been very encouraging. He's my number one supporter and always makes me feel like I can do anything.

  I arrive to the interview with a clear mind and an open heart. If it's meant to be, the job is mine.

  "Hi, Ellie, it's nice to meet you," Angela Richards, the magazine's publisher welcomes me.

  "I'm glad to be here, Mrs. Richards," I shake her hand and sit across from her.

  The previous interviews were with the head of HR and the VP of editorial, but Mrs. Richards is the one I really have to impress. It's her decision who gets the job. From what I've been told, there are just two of us left in the running.

  She's a lovely, tall woman in her mid-fifties, if I had to guess. She's very smart, and I hope I'm as accomplished as she is someday. I feel comfortable meeting her. I get the sense she expects perfection, but she also values autonomy.

  As the editor of a section of the magazine, I would be entirely responsible for deciding what is printed in those pages, as well as the online presence.

  I like the old school feel of a paper magazine. It's a miracle it's still being printed in this day and age. It speaks volumes of its power in the industry.

  "You have a remarkable resume for someone so young. Your internships at Columbia College are very diverse. My staff has been very impressed with you thus far. I just have a few questions."

  She asks me about my love and knowledge of music, whether I can handle covering different music genres, and how I feel about interviewing, not only artists, but executives. She's impressed by my portfolio, approving the mix of serious and light tones in my writing. She also mentions they are planning on launching an online presence in Spanish and praises my bilingual skills.

  "I've really enjoyed meeting you, Ellie. We will make a decision very soon," Mrs. Richards says with a sincere smile. "One last question, you have the option of making Los Angeles your base, or you can choose New York. We would prefer Los Angeles, of course, but we also feel that a happy editor is a great editor. We will support your decision to move, if that's your choice. If hired, would you stay in Los Angeles?"

  "Yes, I have no reason to move at this moment," I reply honestly.

  "Great. Thank you for coming, Ellie. We'll be in touch soon," she stands, and we say goodbye.

  I leave the interview feeling confident that I did a great job. I answered all the questions with professionalism and assertiveness. This position is a perfect fit for me. I hope they choose me.

  Now, I wait.

  ●●●

  Tomorrow is the voter registration event, but right now I'm excited about seeing Jack. He called and said he'd be here as soon as he could, which could mean an hour or so. He sounded a bit tired. I almost told him not to come over, but I miss him.

  The doorbell rings, and Marie runs to open the front door.

  Maybe she's expecting someone.

  "Hey, Ellie, Mike's here." She's standing at my bedroom door. "He's just checking that we're set for tomorrow morning. I told him I'll be leaving early."

  "Because of the concert you're going to?"

  "Yep. Eh, he wants to talk to you," she says with hesitation.

  "Me? Why?"

  "He said he just wants to make sure that you'll be there."

  "What? I'm getting ready. Jack will be here soon. Tell him I'm in," I reply distracted.

  "I did. He insisted."

  "Seriously, Marie?"

  She gives me an I-don't-know-how-to-get-rid-of-him shrug.

  I sigh bothered.

  I'm in an old pair of shorts, a huge Columbia College Chicago sweatshirt, and a pair of old flip-flops, because I don't care what he thinks of me.

  I head outside, where he's leaning against his dark blue Mazda A3. Marie's with me for moral support.

  "Hey, Mike, what's up?" I smile at him, but my arms are crossed. That should give him a clue about the resentment I harbor for being forced out here to talk to him.

  He fails to notice.

  "Hi," he replies unfazed.

  This is the second greeting he's given me since he left me.

  What's up with that?

  I silently wait for him to answer my original question.

  "Just, you know, want to confirm you are set for tomorrow. Marie tells me she'll be leaving early. Will you be there the entire time?" he asks.

  "Yea," I reply. "I've got nowhere else to be." />
  "Oh, okay, sounds good. Well, thanks for helping. I really appreciate it," he's still grinning, as if I'm supposed to be impressed.

  "Of course, no problem," I offer him a weak smile.

  "Well, I'll let you guys get back to your Friday night plans. I might have some of my own," he replies smirking.

  Ugh, that same smirk I would've fallen over some time ago, that same smirk I now find appalling.

  "Okay, nice to see you, Mike. Bye," I say with the friendliest tone I can muster and walk back in the house.

  Marie follows me into the living room.

  "That's why he wanted to see me? He wants me to know he has plans tonight. Ugh!" I say to Marie with a cross tone. I roll my eyes and head back to my room to get dressed. She shrugs, like she's just as bewildered as I am by Mike's behavior.

  Twenty minutes later, Jack arrives, and Sam is right behind him. I'm glad he's here earlier than expected but grateful he didn't bump into Mike.

  "He stopped by as I was leaving my apartment," Jack says in my ear when he embraces me, referring to Sam.

  I don't mind.

  Despite the fact he looks freshly showered, he can't hide how tired he is. I feel safer knowing Sam is around in case he's too worn-out to drive back. And knowing Jack's spontaneity, we'll probably head to San Diego to watch the sunrise.

  ●●●

  "Let's just drive away from LA," suggests Jack.

  It's almost midnight by the time we get on the road. We spent hours at home listening to music, before deciding to go out.

  We're heading toward Pasadena.

  The quaint town appears deserted. The only thing open is probably an IHOP.

  Jack seems a bit irritated — he must have had a rough day.

  "Are you okay, baby?" I take his hand.

  "Yes, as long as I'm with you. This place is desolate though, everything looks closed," his tone subdued.

  We're parked on a side street consulting our apps hoping to find somewhere to go. We're not familiar with Pasadena, and we're not finding anything appealing to do.

  "That's okay, we can go home. You look really tired," I lean over the middle console of the car to kiss him.