Good Times

by Kate, Jiffy

  I owe Shep and CeCe so much and one of these days, I’ll pay them back. Thanks to my new gigs, that’ll be sooner rather than later.

  “If you want to go back to sleep, I can fix you some soothing tea. Otherwise, the espresso machine is fired up and ready,” CeCe offers.

  “I’ll just grab some coffee, thanks.” Taking a mug off the shelf, I fill it with some dark roast before adding cream and stirring it in. Once I’m seated next to Shep and CeCe at a nearby table, I notice them both watching me closely.

  “What?” I ask.

  CeCe clears her throat. “Nothing, Finn. We’re just concerned. You’re not usually this… mopey.”

  “Does this have to do with Georgette?” Shep asks. “Because the way you’re acting now is very reminiscent of when she left for college.”

  Shep’s mention of Georgette leaving causes my back to straighten, feeding into my fears—unwarranted as they may be—and I don’t appreciate it.

  “What makes you think that? Did it not occur to you that it’s storming outside and that’s why I’m up this early?” I don’t even try to hide the petulance in my voice and I know it’s only adding more fuel to their assumptions.

  “No, because most guys only get this pissy when a woman is involved. You only get this pissy when a certain blonde-hair spitfire is involved. So, you’ve either been cockblocked or heartbroken. Which is it?”

  Instead of answering, I sip on my coffee, not looking at either of the two know-it-alls.

  “Spill the deets,” CeCe demands. “As soon as you get it out, the sooner we can see about fixing whatever problem you’re having.”

  Fuck.

  When I look back at them and see they’re still eyeing me intently, I decide to give in. “Jette left yesterday. She flew to New York.”

  They both look at each other warily, but wait for me to give them more, and I do.

  I tell them everything—my fears about Jette going back and realizing she misses New York, her and Trevor reconnecting, and how afraid I am to lose her.

  Once I’m finished, Shep and CeCe stay quiet while finishing their drinks. I welcome the silence, watching the rain fall through the window next to me. Jackson Square is beautiful when the sun is shining but somehow the rain doesn’t diminish its beauty in the least. If anything, it enhances it. This place really is magical.

  Eventually, CeCe breaks the peace and quiet. “Finn, you need to tell her how you feel. Even if the worst happens and she stays with Trevor, it could just be temporary. She could be waiting on you to make the first move, have you thought of that?”

  I shrug. “It’s possible but she knows I’d never put her in a situation where she’d be cheating. And I’d never give her an ultimatum.”

  “Exactly,” Shep pipes up. “She does know those things because she knows you better than anyone. You know her just as well, so don’t count her out just yet. I’m sure this situation is weighing on her just as much as you and I know waiting sucks, but give her time to make the right decision. She’s a smart girl.”

  “You’re right, she is.”

  “I’ve never been one to believe in fate and all that romantic bullshit,” Shep continues. “But even I can tell you two belong together. You always have.”

  “Aww, honey. Who knew marriage would turn you into such a softie?” CeCe teases, standing up to kiss the top of his head as she picks up our empty mugs.

  “There’s nothing soft about me and you know it. Do I need to remind you again before I go to work?” Shep tries to grab her ass but she scoots out of the way.

  “God, no, please,” I mutter, standing and taking my napkin with me. “Just let me leave first and then y’all can do whatever you want.”

  They laugh as I run up the stairs but before I make it to the top, I walk back down and stick my head around the corner, only interrupting an embrace. “Thanks, you two. For everything.” Their answering smiles give me the courage to do what needs to be done.

  I’m going to do it.

  I’m going to tell Jette I’m in love with her and that I’ve never stopped. Even if she chooses Trevor over me, at least there won’t be any doubt in her mind about how I feel. You can’t make a sound decision without all the facts, right?

  Feeling re-energized, I grab my sax case and raincoat before heading out for the day. Jette isn’t supposed to be back until sometime tomorrow so I need to keep busy, otherwise, I’ll drive myself and everyone around me insane. The rain will most likely keep the tourists inside, but I don’t care. I need to create. I need to perform. I need to lose myself in the music and feel whole again. There are two outlets in my life that allow for this and since one is in New York right now, that leaves just me and my sax.

  I decide to set up in my usual spot on Royal St, across from Cami’s gallery. Thankfully, there’s a nice, wide awning I can stand under and stay dry. Today’s soundtrack doesn’t call for original songs or anything flashy; it calls for truth, so I play from my heart.

  Starting with “Unforgettable”, I practically play through every Nat King Cole playlist in my head, ending with “What a Wonderful World”. I play for Jette and I play for myself. I play for all the heartsick fools out there and wish them all well.

  When I see Dani give me a wave before flipping the sign on the door to “closed”, I know it’s time to pack up. I’m not scheduled to work at Good Times tonight and I’m glad. Now that I’ve purged my feelings into the notes of every song, letting them float out into the damp air, I’m tapped out. Plus, I want to be well-rested and ready for when Jette comes back tomorrow, whatever may happen.

  Taking the few bills that were tossed my way by the generous people who passed by throughout the day, I grab some takeout food before heading back to the apartment. I watch YouTube videos of Drunk History until midnight and then finally crawl into bed and fall asleep thinking of Jette and everything I want to say to her.

  The next morning, when I wake, the sun is peeking through the window shades, a bright contrast to the skies from yesterday. Grabbing my phone from the nightstand, I see I already have a message waiting for me.

  Jette: I’m on my way home.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Georgette

  After a day of packing and arranging for my boxes to be shipped to New Orleans, I logged onto the airline’s website to see if there was an earlier flight than what I originally booked. Sadly, there wasn’t, so I took Trevor up on his offer and stayed at the apartment.

  Once he left for the office, he didn’t return until later in the evening, and like he suggested, we ate takeout and it wasn’t horrible. He didn’t instigate an argument or question my motives or decision. We just ate, mostly in silence, and the words we did exchange were amicable.

  Trevor reminisced about when we first moved into the apartment and how exciting it was to live in Manhattan. It was. I remember. There are actually a lot of good memories I’m taking with me.

  Trips around the world.

  Nights of takeout and dreaming about the future.

  Mornings that turned into a comfortable routine.

  A feeling of contentment.

  But soon, that contentment turned into complacency and I wanted more.

  So, I’m sitting on this airplane headed back to New Orleans with nothing but anticipation for the future. There are no regrets, no what-ifs, and absolutely nothing standing in my way of going after what I want, what my heart wants. What it’s always wanted.

  Four hours later, I’m in another Uber, this time leaving the airport outside of New Orleans and wishing I could make the driver go faster.

  As we make our way down I-10, I start to relax.

  When he takes the exit for downtown New Orleans, my heartbeats even out.

  Just as the colorful houses of the outskirts of the French Quarter come into view, I take my first easy breath. The past day and a half felt like forty. None of it was easy or fun, but it’s over and I’m back.

  Craning my neck to see down the block, not only can I see my ho
use, but I see something even better.

  Finley is waiting on my front porch, elbows resting on his knees as he watches the road.

  “Thank you,” I tell the driver as he pulls up to the curb. I don’t even give him a chance to get out and help me with my suitcase, I grab it and bail out of the backseat, shutting the door behind me and giving him a wave.

  A wide smile greets me as Finley stands slowly, squinting his eyes against the bright New Orleans sun. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

  “I was planning on dumping this suitcase and coming to find you,” I tell him, unsure of what to say. His greeting has me smiling and my feet moving. Before I can make the few steps onto the porch, Finn leaps off and meets me on the sidewalk, scooping me into a hug.

  “Damn, I missed you.”

  Laughing, I squeeze him so hard he grunts. “I missed you too.”

  “That was the longest two days of my life,” he says into my hair, still not letting me go.

  “Me too,” I tell him. “I was just thinking it felt like a freaking month.” As I rest my head on his shoulder and sink into his chest, allowing his arms to hold me up, I don’t stop my stream of consciousness from spilling over. “Funny how we were apart for five years, but it’s these past two days that torture us. Not that I didn’t miss you every time I thought about you in those five years, but I think it was the realization that you’re here and I’m here and we really have a shot at this thing…”

  “I missed you every day,” Finn says, his voice gritty. “Every day, don’t ever doubt it.”

  We stand there, his arms wrapped solidly around my waist and mine clinging to his neck, for God only knows how long. The mild breeze swirls around us and the sun kisses our skin, as the world passes by, and for a moment, it’s just me and him… Jette and Finn.

  “I broke up with Trevor,” I whisper. “Officially. It’s over.”

  Finley pulls back, his hands gripping my shoulders until he’s sure I’m steady on my feet. With those deep, dark eyes, he really looks at me, down to my soul. “Are you okay?”

  I nod, a lump stuck in my throat, but not over Trevor. I haven’t cried a real tear over that relationship in a long time. It’s because of how Finley cares for me, even in this moment, when he could jump at the chance to swoop in and take what I know he wants, he holds back, making sure I’m okay.

  I love that about him.

  Along with so many other things, but his care for me is something that digs down into the center of my heart and lives there. It makes me feel whole and good and loved. And like I can do anything and be anyone. Finley has always done that for me.

  “I’m better than okay,” I finally tell him. “I’m here, with you, in a city I love, standing in front of my new home with nothing from my past weighing me down. I honestly don’t know how I could be any better.”

  Finley quirks an eyebrow.

  Okay, I can think of a few ways I could be better.

  But I can be patient.

  “Let’s go inside,” Finley gestures, taking my suitcase as he grasps my hand and leads me up the steps. “Tell me all about New York. I want to hear it all.”

  “Don’t you have to work?” I ask him. Finley works practically every day of the week—playing gigs at the club, on the street, or at the studio. “I can come find you.”

  After I unlock the front door and step inside, feeling instantly at home, I sigh, closing my eyes. When I open them, Finn is staring at me, his expression soft and his eyes… happy. It’s the only way I can describe them. He looks so much like I feel—at peace, at home, and perfectly content.

  “I took the day off.” Unlike our more recent close encounters, when one of us will make a comment that could lead to something more intense or personal, we don’t look away. We don’t close down the emotions and feelings; we lean into them.

  My breath hitches in my throat as Finley’s hand comes up to brush a curl away from my face. Something that is literally a tale as old as time when it comes to the two of us, but it feels different.

  There’s a stream of light coming in from the window above the door and it’s shining perfectly on Finn’s full lips and richly-colored skin. We’re such a contrast, two different people. On so many levels, everything about us is different, yet we’re the same where it counts the most.

  “I want to kiss you,” I tell him, my hands lightly skimming his soft, worn t-shirt, wanting to pull him to me.

  Finn’s head leans down and our breaths fill the space. I watch as his jaw ticks, the muscles fluttering. “Then do it.”

  Blinking rapidly, I lick my lips and will my heart to remain in my chest as it threatens to break through my rib cage. “I don’t want to mess anything up between us,” I whisper, needing to get a few things out in the open.

  “I just need you to know this isn’t a rebound or me trying to get someone out of my head. I’ve been needing to kiss you for a long time. Going to New York was two-fold for me. I needed to close out that chapter in my life, and along with that, I needed to break things off with Trevor because I’m not a cheater. It dawned on me that I probably did so without even realizing it.”

  Taking a deep breath, I inch back to put a little distance between us so I can think clearly and say what I need to say without getting sidetracked by Finley’s nearness.

  Just like always, he waits and listens.

  “Emotionally, I’ve been leaning on you more than I should. You weren’t the one in a relationship when we reconnected. I was. So, it should’ve been me to put up boundaries, and I tried to do that. But I’m sure I failed on some levels. And I just want you to know that I’m not that girl. I don’t sleep around or jump from one relationship to another. Trevor was my only boyfriend while I was in New York. If the truth be told, he was my rebound. I needed him to fill some of the gaps in my heart that were caused by leaving you. I did that. Me. And I’m not putting the blame on anyone but myself. I’m sorry, for everything.”

  When I’m finished, I take a shuddering breath, not realizing how much I needed to get that off my chest.

  Finn reaches forward and pulls me to him. “This is uncharted territory for both of us. And sometimes,” he says, stroking my hair. “Sometimes life just happens and it’s not perfect or easy… it just swoops in and says here I am. We can only walk through it the best we know how. You’re not wrong or bad, Georgette Taylor. You never could be, because your heart is good and true. I’ll always forgive you and I’ll always be on your side, no matter what.”

  In that moment, I want to sink into him, like liquid mercury, our bodies melding into one.

  “About that kiss,” Finn mutters, reaching under my chin to tilt my head back, our eyes meeting.

  Standing on my tiptoes, I use his body for leverage and press my lips to his. For a few seconds, it’s just brushes of skin and shared breaths as my heart climbs up my throat.

  But then, Finley’s hand cups my jaw and his other tightens on my waist, pulling me impossibly close, and our mouths open to each other, releasing the floodgates of emotions.

  As time stands still, Finley and I kiss with everything we have in us, connecting our past and present. It’s everything I expected and so many things I didn’t even know existed. For every ounce of heat, there is an equal amount of sweetness. And for every nip of his teeth on my lips, there’s an answering caress.

  It feels like coming home and also like I’m soaring on a new adventure, because as much as Finley hasn’t changed, there are parts of him that have. Unlike our kisses from the past, this isn’t tentative or exploring, it’s claiming and demanding.

  Finley, the man, knows exactly what he wants and he’s currently taking it.

  My toes curl as he dominates the kiss and my body, pushing me up against the wall.

  I don’t know how much time passes. While I’m wrapped in Finley’s arms, lost to the world around me, I don’t even know what time is. I barely know my name.

  Panting, we eventually slow the kiss, each taking a much-neede
d breath of air.

  “I’ve been waiting so long for that,” Finley mutters, his lips brushing my cheek and then my nose. “God, I’ve missed you.”

  A tear slips down my cheek out of nowhere. “I’ve missed you too.”

  These I miss yous aren’t about the two days I was in New York. These are for five years of missed kisses and everything in between.

  After a few softer, slower kisses, we finally venture out of the foyer and into the living room. I still don’t have furniture in the majority of my house, but yet it still feels warm and inviting.

  Cami’s painting is adorning one wall and it’s always the first thing I see when I walk inside.

  I love it.

  “Want something to eat?” I ask Finn. “I don’t have much, but I did pick up a few things at the market before I left. I can definitely make a grilled cheese or a PB&J.” Glancing back, I see Finley standing in the wide opening between the living room and dining room. His strong arms are crossed over his chest and he’s just staring at me. “What?”

  Biting down on his bottom lip, he shakes his head and looks down at his worn boots. “Just you… here, I’m still trying to wrap my head around all of it.”

  “Well, get used to it, because I’m not going anywhere,” I tell him, feeling my chest warm with the confession. “I mean, I bought a freaking house, for goodness sake.”

  Finn chuckles, swiping his thumb over his bottom lip. “You did, huh.”

  “Sure did,” I retort, quirking an eyebrow as if I’m asking him to challenge me on this… on us. I know what he’s thinking, because I know him better than he knows himself on some days, or at least I see him clearer. Finley always thought good things didn’t happen to someone like him. Although, if you didn’t really know him, you’d never guess that, because he’s always so positive. He’s probably one of the happiest, most cheerful people I’ve ever met.