by Laura Drewry
“Well, sure, but 21 Jump Street was playing right next door.”
“Which, if I recall correctly, you guys made me sit through right after Safe House.”
“Yeah, we did.” Jack couldn’t help but laugh. “You got Denzel and we got Jonah Hill; it was a win-win.”
Running her finger along the edge of one of the sunflowers, she tipped her face up to his. “I think it’s old-movie week.”
“What’s that?”
“First week of October every year, they bring in a couple older movies that haven’t been in theaters for a while; it’s usually ones that were released within the last five or ten years, but last year they showed the original Psycho. That was fun.”
Jack already had his phone out and was searching for listings.
“Huh, you’re right,” he said. “That’s kinda cool.”
“What’s playing?”
“The first Harry Potter, Toy Story…” he hesitated for a second, then grinned back at her. “No Denzels, but The Fighter’s playing at seven.”
Maya didn’t even have to say anything; she just raised an eyebrow and smiled back.
Jack chuckled. “And it’s Wahlberg for the win.”
“I’ll meet you there about quarter to.” She hesitated, her smile faltering a little. “Or we could go grab a bite to eat first.”
“Sure, yeah. I’ll pick you up after work.” He slowly backed up a few steps, then stopped when his butt hit the corner of a display. “Five-thirty?”
“Great.”
“Great.” Why did he repeat it? And why did she suddenly look nervous?
Because it felt like they just made a date, that’s why.
It wasn’t a date; it was just two friends going to a dinner and a movie together, and if her phone hadn’t rung right then, he might have found a way to say that out loud. Instead, he just waved and ducked out into the rain, trying really hard to convince himself that Will wouldn’t think it was a date, either.
And what about Griffin?
“Shit,” he muttered. Snip wasn’t kidding when she said things were complicated.
—
Maya didn’t close up shop early very often, but it was pretty quiet and she had to get home and change before Jack showed up. It wasn’t like this was a date, so she didn’t need to get dressed up. Did she?! She should at least put on a clean shirt; and the chocolate-brown blouse with the angel sleeves would be both comfortable and casual enough that it didn’t look like she’d tried too hard.
Perfect.
But that meant she’d have to change her jeans, too. And her shoes. And maybe put on that twisty-chain necklace with the gold leaves. And really, if she’d come that far, it seemed silly not to put on the matching earrings. And a little lipstick.
There.
No time to do anything with her hair, so she brushed it out, grabbed her jacket and bag and was almost back at her shop when Jack pulled up to the curb.
Oh God. He’d changed too. And shaved. And showered.
As if by some kind of telepathy, neither of them said anything, just gave each other the once-over, blushed and laughed. Okay, maybe it was a date, but it wasn’t a date-date, so why did Jack look uncomfortable? Why did he look at her like that, a little sideways, as though he was trying to make up his mind about something? About her? It had to be her, otherwise he wouldn’t keep frowning every time he looked at her.
When the hostess started to show them to a table, Jack stopped her and pointed to the booth in the corner, the one farthest from the door. Either he was trying to avoid being seen or he had something to say and didn’t want anyone else to hear. Maybe both.
She could deal with anything he had to say—good or bad—so long as he was honest with her. On the other hand, if he was trying to hide her in the corner so no one would see them together…that would be a problem for her, and that is what she braced herself for.
Hope for the best but prepare for the worst, right?
She waited until their drinks arrived, took a slow sip of her Shiraz, and gave him her best “okay, let’s hear it” smile.
“What’s up, Jack?”
He looked a little surprised, but instead of answering, he pulled the corner of his bottom lip in behind his teeth and sighed.
“No?” she asked. “Okay, answer me this, then. Did you move us over here so no one would see us and report back to Dickhead?”
“What?” His surprise shot straight to shock. “No!”
“Good, then let’s see what’s behind door number two. You’ve got something to tell me and you’d rather not do it in front of everyone else in the restaurant in case I freak out. Am I getting warmer?”
He pressed his lips together and nodded slowly. “A little.”
Was that it? He wasn’t going to say anything else? Screw that.
“Okay, here’s the thing, Jack. I’m usually a sucker for the strong-silent-type thing, but if we have any hope of making it to the movie on time, I’m going to need more from you than just two-word answers. I mean, I get it, whatever you’re trying so hard not to tell me is probably not something I actually want to hear, but ticktock.” Snorting over a small laugh, she sat back and crossed her arms. “I’ll put up with a lot of things, but I won’t put up with missing a single second of bare-chested Marky Mark, so you best get to talkin’.”
There. Finally a tiny little grin pulled up the corner of his mouth.
“Shit.” It was more of an exhale than an actual word. After a second, he shook his head slowly and braced himself, but not in the same way she’d done a second ago. The barely-there grin was gone, and it seemed to cause him physical pain to look at her. “I lied to you.”
“Oh.” That sat her back a little. “About what?”
“This whole week.” Jack dipped his chin to his chest and took a long, deep breath before looking back at her again. “I wasn’t writing. I spent every night playing Candy Crush and learning that the sixteen-year-old kid at Walmart was probably right about a couple things.”
“What? Why?” The words felt like sawdust against her tongue. “Why would you—”
“Because.” Seconds ticked by. “Because I didn’t know what I was supposed to say. No, that’s not true, either. I knew what I was supposed to say, I just couldn’t say it.”
“What are you—Oh my God.” Maya slapped her hands over her face and groaned. “It’s because of what happened at Jayne’s isn’t it?”
His silence was answer enough, and when he finally did speak, his voice was low and tight.
“Yeah. Shit. Okay…I’m just gonna…okay.” He took a long swig of his beer, wiped his mouth and swallowed. “Oh boy…okay…You deserve to be happy, Snip, and if he does that for you, that’s great, I’ll…”
“What—”
His raised hand stopped her question before she could finish forming it. Now that he’d finally remembered how to form sentences, sort of, he apparently didn’t want to be interrupted.
“It’s not like you can sit around for the rest of your life, I get that, but it’s you, and—” He stopped, took another breath and seemed to force each word off his tongue. “I don’t know why it’s different this time, it just is, and it probably doesn’t even matter that it’s him; it could be anyone. The problem’s me; I don’t know if I can do it again so if we could talk about anything other than him, that’d be great.”
“Wait.” Frowning, she slid her hands off her face and stared back at Jack, whose jaw was clenched pretty good and tight. “You can’t do what again? What are you talking about? Or I guess I should ask who are you talking about?”
Jack frowned slightly; his Adam’s apple bobbed hard. “You and Griffin.”
“Me and…Ohhh!” Back her hands went, this time stopping just shy of her mouth. “Griffin and me…is that who you think Jayne and I were talking about when you walked in?”
It wasn’t funny, it really wasn’t, but the look on his face just then—confused, a little annoyed, and a whole lot uncertain—was absolut
ely priceless.
“Well, I did until a second ago, yeah.” Muttering another quiet curse, he blinked slowly and started picking at the label on his bottle. “Who were you really talking about? I guess that’s why you said it was complicated with movie-dude.”
“Movie-dude?” Maybe it was nerves or something, but whatever it was, Maya couldn’t stop the snorting giggle that bubbled out of her, and before she could say anything, their waitress showed up with her order pad. Two seconds after the waitress left, Maya had completely forgotten what she’d ordered and she didn’t care.
In that short time, Jack had downed most of his beer, which only made Maya snort again. He should have saved some of that, because in another couple seconds he’d know the truth, and then they’d probably both want another drink and there was no way in hell she was sharing what was left of her wine.
“Jack.” Her fingers itched to reach across the table, to wrap around his hand and stop him from peeling off one more piece of his label, but she didn’t. Instead she tugged her napkin into her lap and stretched it as flat as she could. “I don’t have anyone in my life right now; I’m not seeing anyone and the thing with Griffin is complicated, yes, but it has nothing to do with what you heard Jayne and me talking about. In fact, his name wasn’t even mentioned.”
“Come on, Snip. I was standing right there. You said that thing about your…your…” Another deep breath, this time his face flamed red as he cocked his jaw to the side and waved a finger in her general direction. “Your neglected parts.”
“Oh my God.” Could this get any more embarrassing? And was it too late to stop it? To beg him to go back to two words at a time? But no, he was on a roll now and the more he said, the more she felt a little like Indiana Jones trying to outrun that boulder.
“You said it was complicated, that you hadn’t seen him in a while, he wasn’t ever going to move up here, that he was starting a new project…and then Jayne…said…and then Jayne said that wouldn’t leave you much time to—”
It was like they were right back at that cosplay party the way he suddenly got it—like the epiphany came out right out of the sky on a bolt of lightning and slammed him square between the eyes. Unblinking, his mouth stayed frozen around his last word for so long, Maya wasn’t even sure he was breathing, and suddenly there was nothing funny about any of it anymore, especially when he started shaking his head and muttering.
“Oh shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.”
Okay. She didn’t expect him to be thrilled about it, but that wasn’t exactly the response she expected either. Not even close actually.
Wine: yup, all of it. One gulp.
“Me?” It started out as a question, then turned to a statement by the third time he’d repeated it. “Me?! Me. You were talking about me.”
“Yes.”
“Your girlie parts are on high alert because of me.” He pressed his hand flat against his forehead and groaned. “Oh, shit. This is bad.”
“Thanks, Jack.” She reached for her jacket and purse on the seat next to her, then stopped when his hand wrapped around her forearm.
“I’m sorry.” He stared down at his hand as though he had no idea how it ended up on her arm, snatched it back, and crossed his arms tight against his chest. “Please don’t go. I’m sorry, I am. I didn’t…holy shit…I didn’t mean it like it sounded. I just really thought you were talking about movie-dude.”
“Yeah, I got that, but it doesn’t sound like you’re happy about it either way, so it’s probably a good idea if I just go.”
“No!” His whole body jerked forward before his biceps flexed, as though he was fighting his own arms for control of their movements. “Please, Snip, stay. I just need a second to wrap my head around this.”
It took a couple seconds of lip chewing before she finally nodded and set her stuff back down.
“So it’s bad that it’s you, but you wigged out when you thought it was Griffin. What’s up with that?”
She slid her fingers around the base of her glass, careful to keep them away from the stem, fearing she’d snap it in half.
“I didn’t wig out.” Going by the way his voice wavered, she knew he was lying.
“Oh really? Then why was it so hard for you to even look at me afterward? You wouldn’t even talk to me about it. And a couple minutes ago you sat there and admitted you’ve been avoiding me all week because of it.” She tipped her head to the side a little as the feminist in her suddenly took a step forward. “So what? Is it the idea of Griffin you don’t like, or is it that you think I should be pining away for Dickhead? I get that he’s like you’re brother, Jack, but that ship has sailed and he captained it!”
“I—”
“God, who the hell do you think you are, anyway?” She didn’t know where this anger came from, but it was there and it wasn’t done, which meant she had to fight to keep her voice down. “You walked away from me two years ago, remember? You did that, not me. So what gives you the right to waltz back into my life now and have any kind of opinion about me or whoever it is who gets my parts going!”
The whole time she’d been going off, Jack’s grip on his bottle had tightened until his knuckles were strained white. His jaw clenched and unclenched and his eyes were like granite when he finally spoke.
“Fine, you want to know?” His voice was low, tight, almost hostile. “Yeah, I hate the idea of you and him together and yeah, I know really well that your parts are none of my business. I learned that lesson a long time ago, sweetheart.”
Lifting his empty bottle, he waved it so hard at the waitress Maya thought he might rear back and throw it if he didn’t get some kind of acknowledgment soon. When he finally looked back at her, something shifted in her brain like she’d just dropped an entire row of a slide puzzle into place.
Oh no, surely to God…
The knot in her balloon of self-righteous anger slipped open, sending the rest of its hot air rushing out of her mouth in a long whoosh.
“Jack.”
He wouldn’t look at her, and even though part of her brain screamed out warnings like an air-raid siren, she couldn’t stop herself.
“What did you mean a minute ago when you said it’s me and you couldn’t do it again?” He didn’t even have to answer, because there it was—her own epiphany that didn’t just hit, it exploded inside her brain, knocking her back against the booth. “Ohmygod. You mean…”
Did she look half as terrified as he did?
“Since when?”
He seemed to steel himself before answering and when he did, it was with a shrug of complete surrender. “Does the word ‘aloha’ mean anything to you?”
“Oh, Jack.” No matter how hard she pressed her hands against her chest, it didn’t help ease the feeling that everything was being twisted and wrung out. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“I did!” he choked. “I asked if you liked piña coladas and getting caught in the rain.”
That did it; whatever was twisting inside her chest burst open and now she wouldn’t have been able to stop smiling for anything. That’s exactly what he’d said to her, too, and the damn song had been stuck in her head for two days afterward.
“I mean after that,” she said. “Why did you just walk away?”
“What was I supposed to do?” He didn’t even set his new beer down when the waitress brought it, just grabbed it out of her hand, took a long swig then rolled the bottle slowly between his palms. “You were Will’s girl.”
He might as well have said “You are,” because she knew that’s what he was thinking.
“I had no idea.”
“Good,” he croaked. “You weren’t supposed to. Jeezus, Snip, do you have any idea how bad this is? We shouldn’t—”
“But you left so fast that night. If I’d known…or if Will hadn’t come over…”
His expression hardened for a second before he finally shrugged, his mouth curling up in a small crooked smirk.
“Or if I’d had the b
alls to tell him to piss off like I wanted to.”
“Or that.”
The waitress returned with their dinners, checked their drinks, then wandered off again, leaving them both staring down at their plates. What were they supposed to do now? How were they supposed to move forward?
It wasn’t like they could pretend the last half hour hadn’t happened, and at the same time it wasn’t like they could do anything about it.
And what about Griffin? Should she tell Jack about it now? Yes, of course she—
No way!
They’d shared enough shocking information for one night. They needed time to sort through all of that first before she added anything else. And besides, she hadn’t decided what she was going to do yet, so why even bring it up?
Instead of lifting his fork and digging in, Jack pushed his plate a little to the side and laid his hand palm-up on the table. It took Maya a second to move, because she knew what was coming, but eventually she nudged her plate over and placed her hand in his.
At the first contact, Jack turned his face away and hissed out a breath, then stared down at their hands like he was afraid to move. His skin was warm against her touch, his fingers twitching as though they wanted to close around hers, but they didn’t.
Mesmerized by the feel of him, by the strength and vulnerability in that one hand, she traced the tips of her fingers along the lines in his palm and down the length of each finger, before finally pressing her palm flat against his and letting him close his hands around hers.
“Four years,” he breathed out over a strangled laugh. “I had this under control for four years. Kept my mouth shut and everything.”
“Four years,” Maya snorted. “God’s sake, I couldn’t manage it two weeks!”
“Yeah, well, you didn’t have to, did you?” He was kidding, but at the same time not. “I’m sorry, Snip, I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“Why?”
His smile faded and a second later, he pulled his hand free. “You know why.”
Yup, okay, she did, and she couldn’t pretend otherwise. At the same time, though, she wasn’t about to let it ruin this…whatever “this” was. Will had taken enough already; he wasn’t going to take Jack again, too, not now that she had him back in her life.