First Crush

by Linda Seed

  “I don’t have time to talk,” Bianca said. “Peter’s waiting for me.” She turned away from him and started toward the dining room.

  “Bianca, wait.”

  She told herself not to turn around, not to listen to what he had to say. Because what good would it do? It wouldn’t change anything. It wouldn’t make TJ feel things for her he didn’t feel.

  But he’d always held power over her, from the first day she’d seen him in Mrs. Parker’s English class in eleventh grade. So she stopped, and she turned, and she looked up into those gorgeous eyes.

  “What? What do you want?”

  “I want to apologize.” A waitress was trying to get down the hallway past them, so they stepped aside to let her through. TJ lowered his voice, and the intimacy of it made Bianca feel hot and soft inside.

  “That thing I said to my mother—it was unforgivable,” TJ went on. “It was cruel, it was thoughtless … and it was a lie. I only said what I did to get her off my back. She still thinks Penny and I have a chance, and she’s …” He shook his head and raked a hand through his hair. “It was just easier to let her think things between us weren’t going anywhere. So, I’m sorry. If I hurt you, I’m so sorry.”

  It was what she’d wanted to hear, and now that she’d heard it, she felt herself weakening. “And then there was the binder. Which you misunderstood,” she said.

  “Yes.”

  “TJ … that was mortifying. It was mortifying that you saw it, and even more so that it exists in the first place. But I was sixteen.…”

  “I know. Sofia told me.”

  “She did?” She blinked at him in surprise.

  “Yes.”

  “Well … I’m not that person anymore,” Bianca said, unsure whether it was the truth. “I’m not that crazy, over-the-moon teenager trying to cope with the feelings of having her first crush. I’m an adult now, and I have to make adult decisions for myself.”

  But looking at him now, in the dimly lit hallway, with him standing so close to her, she felt exactly like that girl, that irrational, love-crazy girl. But she had to be smarter than that. She had to be.

  “Bianca.” He reached out and laid his hand on her cheek, and her eyes closed. Then he drew her to him for a kiss, a kiss so slow and deep and thorough, she forgot she was in a public place until she heard a waitress’s voice say, “Excuse me? This is a restaurant, not a by-the-hour motel.”

  After the kiss, after they were interrupted, Bianca went back to Peter’s table. TJ couldn’t believe she went back.

  What was the point of cornering a woman near a restaurant ladies’ room and kissing her senseless if she was still going to have dinner with another man?

  He stood in the hallway after she left, his hands on his hips. “Well, shit,” he muttered. If the kiss hadn’t worked to break up Bianca’s date with Peter, then he didn’t have a Plan B.

  He knew he should just go home, have a beer, and try not to think about whether that asshole’s hands would be touching Bianca later that night. The idea of that made him crazy, irrational. He wanted to go back into the dining room, pick Peter up by the scruff of the neck, and toss him through a plate glass window and out onto Main Street.

  But he couldn’t do that, could he? Aside from the inevitable jail time that would result, there was the fact that Peter had been right. Peter was ready to give Bianca the things she wanted, and TJ wasn’t. Peter was a doctor, and TJ wasn’t. TJ had treated Bianca like crap, and Peter hadn’t.

  What if Peter really was better for her?

  What if TJ was just wasting her time?

  TJ went into the men’s room, splashed cold water on his face, then dried it with a paper towel from the dispenser. Then he gathered whatever was left of his dignity and walked out of the restaurant.

  33

  When Bianca got the fake emergency call from Sofia, she used it, even though TJ was gone and the uncomfortable situation she’d been in had passed.

  She couldn’t just sit there with Peter, pretending everything was okay, after the kiss. Because now, the kiss was all she could think about.

  She played up the emergency, claimed alarm at some fictional situation with a patient, and let Peter drive her home.

  She said goodbye to him at his car, went inside, watched through the peephole until he left, and sagged against the front door, feeling spent.

  “Home already?” Benny smirked. “Even on a date with two men at once, you can’t manage to stay out past eight?”

  “You’re hilarious.” Bianca’s eyes were getting hot and wet. A tear fell, and she swiped at it, sniffling.

  “Oh, jeez. Come on. Sit down. Tell all.” Benny patted the spot beside her on the sofa.

  Normally, Bianca would have resisted. She’d have wanted to keep her personal business to herself, and she’d have excused herself to go to her room, pleading fatigue or some mysterious tropical illness.

  But she didn’t have it in her tonight, so instead, she flopped down on the sofa and put her hands to her face.

  “Oh, God. He apologized, and then he kissed me, and … I thought I had a plan! I thought I knew what I was going to do, but now …”

  “Wait. Which one of them apologized and kissed you?” Benny asked.

  “TJ. TJ did. I had convinced myself that Peter was a better choice, Peter was the smart way to go. But now … the kiss …”

  While Bianca was wailing and complaining about her love life, Martina came into the room and perched on the edge of a club chair near the sofa.

  “Oh, no. What happened?” she asked.

  Benny filled her in, and then said pointedly, “She thought Peter was the smart choice. But then TJ kissed the pants off her at Neptune. Metaphorically, I mean. She kept her pants on. I’m assuming.”

  “Bianca.” Martina got up, moved to the coffee table, and sat on it so she could face Bianca knee-to-knee. “I know you want to make good choices. I know you’re used to doing what your brain tells you instead of following your instincts. But … Peter isn’t the smart choice. Not if you’re letting another man kiss you at Neptune.”

  Bianca let her head flop onto the back of the sofa, and she stared at the ceiling. “I didn’t let him. He just did it.”

  “But you liked it.”

  “I … yes. Oh, God, yes.”

  “The way that kiss made you feel?” Martina put a hand on Bianca’s knee. “That’s the way you’re supposed to feel when you’re in love with someone. And Peter doesn’t make you feel that way. And he never will.”

  Bianca wanted so much to argue with Martina’s point, but she couldn’t. Not without lying to both her sister and herself.

  “There’s more to a relationship than feelings,” Bianca said. “There’s compatibility. And shared goals. And mature, responsible—”

  Benny made a rude raspberry noise with her mouth, cutting Bianca off. “What a steaming pile of bullshit. You sound like you’re planning a financial portfolio instead of choosing a man.”

  “She’s right.” Martina nodded sagely.

  But how could Bianca trust her feelings, when her feelings told her she was in love with TJ, and that clearly was impossible? Whatever she was feeling for him, it couldn’t be love. She couldn’t love him when they’d been seeing each other for such a brief time. She couldn’t love him when so little between them seemed, on paper, like it should work. And she couldn’t, simply couldn’t, still be in love with him after all these years.

  Could she?

  Whatever TJ’s feelings about Peter after that night at Neptune, he had to suck it up for the sake of Owen’s health. Peter was still Owen’s doctor, and Owen still had a good deal of medical care ahead of him before his condition would be fully under control.

  In fact, Owen had a follow-up appointment that week, and while TJ would rather have eaten broken glass than face Dr. DeVries, he had no choice but to man up and take care of his son.

  The idea that Bianca might have gone home with Peter that night, though … the vision of it
that kept running, unbidden, through TJ’s brain … It was all he could do to remind himself that he was here for his son and therefore couldn’t run over the man with his car.

  “Mr. Davenport. Owen,” Peter greeted them with a bland smile as they sat in an examining room, Owen on the exam table and TJ in a hard-backed plastic chair. “How have you been feeling?” Peter asked the boy.

  They went over that—the side effects Owen had been suffering from his medication, the latest blood test results, the adjustments Peter would be making to the dosages, and what they should look out for—and then Peter offered TJ a dead-fish handshake and made to head out of the room.

  “Dr. DeVries?” TJ said, stopping him. “I wonder if I might have a word? Owen, could you go wait for me in the lobby? I’ll just be a minute.”

  When Owen was gone, Peter turned to TJ, holding Owen’s chart against his chest. “What is this about? I have other patients.”

  “I’m sure you do.” TJ hadn’t been sure what he’d wanted to say to Peter, only that he had to say something in acknowledgment of all that had happened at Neptune. He wasn’t sure what he wanted with Bianca, whether he was ready for another relationship so soon after Penny, and what that would look like if he did. Bianca wanted a future, and Peter was willing to give her that, so TJ knew he should make some sort of manly speech about stepping aside. He knew it was the right thing to do—the sensible thing.

  But he couldn't stop thinking about Bianca and the way she felt in his arms. Her smell, the feel of her skin, the purr in her voice when she talked to him after a kiss or after their one night of delicious lovemaking. And he knew he didn’t want to give up those things for anyone—especially not for Peter DeVries.

  “We’re not done,” TJ said, when he finally found the words. “Bianca and I aren’t done. I don’t know where it’s going to go, or what I can offer her, but … we’ve just gotten started, and I’m not going to walk away.”

  Peter regarded TJ with narrowed eyes. “Is that right?”

  “It is. I respect you as a doctor, and I appreciate all you’re doing for my son. But I believe Bianca wants to be with me, so … I have to pursue that.”

  Peter listened, then nodded mildly. “Interesting. If she wants to be with you, though, I wonder why she spent the night with me after you left us? Seems … inconsistent.”

  TJ was still staring at him, speechless and slack-jawed, as Peter walked out of the room.

  TJ had kissed her, then he’d left. And now Bianca didn’t know where things stood, what his intentions were, or what she was going to do about them, whatever they might be.

  He’d seemed like he wanted her, and yes, his apology had been good to hear. But a kiss wasn’t a conversation. It wasn’t a plan. It wasn’t a promise.

  After a couple of days of stewing over it, she decided that someone had to figure out what the hell was going on between herself and TJ, and that person might as well be her. She was running out of excuses for why she couldn’t see Peter, and something had to be done.

  By the time she texted TJ three days after the incident at Neptune, she had gotten herself into such a lather that she was already yelling.

  WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT ABOUT?

  Her iPhone told her almost immediately that the text had been read, and she waited impatiently as three little dots appeared on her screen, showing her that he was composing his answer.

  You looked like you needed to be kissed, that’s all. Don’t tell me that uptight asshole you were with has any idea how to do it, because I won’t believe you.

  Bianca stared at the text, opened her mouth as if to respond to the walls of her office, then closed it. She typed out several texts—some of which were reasonable and calm, and some of which were riddled with random obscenities—then deleted them. Then she told herself to calm down, took a few cleansing breaths, and settled on a response.

  When a person interrupts another person’s date and then kisses her, it’s confusing. Was that supposed to mean something? Or were you just passing by looking for someone to kiss?

  He didn’t respond for a few minutes, then when he did, his answer made Bianca cock her head in question like a cocker spaniel hearing the distant opening of a box of treats.

  Does it matter? You slept with Peter again anyway, so I guess I wasted my time.

  The conversation was becoming too confusing, and too personal, for text messages. Bianca tapped in his contact info and hit CALL.

  “What makes you think I slept with Peter again?” she asked as soon as he picked up the phone.

  “Why does it matter why I think that? You did, and I assume you’re going to do it again, so … You’ve made your choice, and that’s fine. The better man won.”

  Bianca closed her eyes and shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. “I didn’t sleep with Peter. I mean, yes, I did in the past, when we were together, but not since you and I …” She shifted her stance, moving her weight from one foot to the other. “I don’t know what business it is of yours, anyway, since you apparently don’t really want to be with me. You just want to kiss me in restaurant hallways.”

  “Just one restaurant hallway,” he corrected her. “And what do you mean, you didn’t sleep with Peter?”

  “I went home!” She was nearly yelling now. “After you left, I made an excuse, and I went home! So I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about!”

  “You went home?” She could almost see the surprise on his face.

  “Yes. Not that it’s any of your—”

  “I know, I know. It’s not. But … really? You went home?”

  “I went home. Alone.”

  “But Peter said …”

  Suddenly, it was starting to make sense. “When did you talk to Peter?”

  “When I took Owen in for his follow-up. We had a … a man-to-man talk, I guess you could call it. Or, man to weasel.”

  Bianca didn’t know what to address first—the fact that the two men in her life had apparently discussed her and her love life behind her back, or that Peter had lied about her. She started with the latter.

  “Peter said we slept together? That night, after you left the restaurant?”

  “Yeah, he did. And are you moving in with him? Shit. Bianca …”

  So, Peter had talked trash about her, claiming she’d done things she hadn’t, and TJ had believed it without even talking to her and had written her off because of it.

  “Bianca?” he prompted her.

  “I’ve about had it with both of you. Maybe you and Peter should go out. You seem to have a lot to say to each other.” Then she hung up the phone.

  34

  Bianca couldn’t confront Peter right away because he was working, and so was she. She had a full day of appointments, and today was Monday, so she knew he’d be in the outpatient procedure center all day doing colonoscopies.

  That was fitting, considering the fact he was a complete asshole.

  She waited until after work, then drove to his place and was waiting for him outside his apartment door when he arrived home.

  “Bianca. This is a pleasant surprise. Did I forget we had a date?” He had his suit jacket over his arm, and he looked tired.

  “No, you didn’t. I came over because I need to talk to you.”

  “About?”

  “About why you lied to TJ about us sleeping together.”

  Peter rubbed his forehead, his eyes squeezed shut. “Do we have to do this right now? I’ve had a really long day.”

  “No. No. We don’t have to do this now. We don’t have to do this ever. We’re done.”

  Peter put his briefcase down next to his feet and let his shoulders slump. “He’s what you want? An electrician? You want to be some … some blue-collar man’s wife and have his lower-middle-class babies?”

  Actually, the thought was immensely appealing—if TJ weren’t a complete jerk. Which he was.

  “You lied about having sex with me, like some teenager in a high school locker room,” Bianca said
archly. “Just because you’re a doctor doesn’t mean you have class.”

  She turned and walked back to her car with him still calling her name.

  TJ had mishandled this whole thing from the beginning. That much was clear. The problem was that he’d had so little experience with women who weren’t Penny. That had to be it. Otherwise, he’d have to admit he was just a jackass, and that thought wasn’t one he wanted to embrace.

  He wished he had someone he could talk to about it, but he didn’t. His mother was out, obviously. He’d had friends in San Jose, of course, but it was funny how friends seemed to fall away when you got a divorce. It was almost as though he’d divorced his entire former life, and not just his wife.

  He needed to go over things—his own mistakes, and where to go from here—with another guy. After considering all of his options, he had what he thought was a brilliant idea. He would talk to Patrick, Sofia’s fiancé. He’d met the guy a few times, and he seemed like a good person. Plus, he knew Bianca as well as any man TJ could think of, except Peter.

  He called Patrick at his office at the university—the only number TJ could find for him—and Patrick agreed to meet him for beers at Ted’s one night after work.

  The place was only moderately busy, as expected on a weekday night. A couple of guys were playing pool, and two more sat at the bar. A couple who looked to be in their sixties and weathered by life shared a round table toward the back of the room.

  The lights were dim and the place smelled like spilled beer and sweat. TJ and Patrick took seats at the bar, and TJ bought two mugs of cold beer.

  “It was … interesting to hear from you.” Patrick adjusted his glasses, which made him look like the English professor he was. “Unexpected.”

  “Yeah, well.” TJ took a deep swig of his beer to gird himself for the conversation to come. “I just thought … You know Bianca, so …”