That was weird. Usually, her mom said who it was or told her to come upstairs to greet her guest. But before Bridget could ask, the stairs creaked as the person descended.
When Alex came into view, Bridget vaulted off the couch.
“Um, hi,” she said, surprised and pleased and nervous all at the same time. Her heart sped up at an unhealthy interval.
“Hi,” Alex said. “Hi, Max.”
“Hey.” Max stood, too. “I’m going to go make some tea. I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he said. At the steps, he turned and gave Bridget a reassuring smile.
Bridget stuck her hands in the back pockets of her jeans just for something to do with them.
“Are these boxes from our old apartment?” Alex asked.
Bridget followed her gesture to the corner, where a handful of boxes labeled “A & B apt” resided. “Oh. Yeah, they are.” She crossed the room. “You can look. If there’s anything you want back…”
What was the protocol for this sort of thing? Should she offer to leave the room? Bridget herself hadn’t touched the boxes out of fear she wouldn’t be able to escape the memories.
Alex’s gaze grew distant for a moment before she said, “That’s not really why I came.”
“Oh. Right.” When Alex didn’t say anything else, Bridget prompted, “So, why did you come? Not that I don’t want you here, of course, or that you can’t stop by. I just didn’t really expect you. That’s all.” Great. Now she was rambling.
Alex seemed unfazed by it, though. In fact, she seemed in her own little world, hardly aware of Bridget at all. She wrung her hands, something she only did when she was extra nervous. She was normally so good at playing it cool, seemingly detached from all emotions. If Bridget’s surprise return hadn’t thrown her for a loop, what could be getting her this bent out of shape?
“Do you want to sit?” Bridget asked, sweeping a hand toward the futon. “Do you want a drink? Water? Coffee? Tea?”
Alex didn’t even seem to hear the questions. Instead, she met Bridget’s gaze and blurted, “Would you go on a date with me?”
Chapter Eleven
Then
For the past month, Alex had spent every day, including weekends, at the café, meaning her schedule hadn’t allowed for much free time. She and Bridget hadn’t had a real conversation in at least a week, and as soon as she walked into the apartment on Sunday night, Alex could feel the tension. Benny rushed forward to greet her, but Bridget stayed on the couch, where she was watching old episodes of Project Runway.
Alex fixed herself a mug of tea before sitting down beside Bridget. “Did you eat dinner yet?”
Bridget nodded. “I went out with Jordan and Lu.”
Unsure of what to say, Alex sipped her tea. They’d been together for five years and friends for much longer. They’d experienced silence loads of times—when they were tired, when they were contemplative, when they just needed the quiet. It had never felt like this, so awkward, and Alex couldn’t help but think it was all her fault.
Bridget leaned forward, picked up the remote from the coffee table, and muted the TV. Then she shifted to face Alex. “We should talk.”
Uh-oh. The three worst words that could ever be uttered in a relationship. Alex kept sipping her tea. It wasn’t that she shut down, exactly, but she was learning it was easier to get through these moments when she didn’t fight them.
Bridget grasped Alex’s forearm, shifting her thumb back and forth. “I miss you,” she said softly. “Before, it was bad enough when work ran you ragged, but I could deal with it. Now, you spend all your time at a café you said you had every intention of selling.”
Alex stayed quiet.
“You are going to sell it, right?” Bridget asked.
Alex tightened her jaw and stared into her tea. The café was the last thing she had left of her dad. She had had every intention of selling it. Then she’d stepped inside and found she couldn’t let go of the memories they’d made there. “I said I’d think about it.”
“And that’s fine, Lex. Don’t sell it if you really don’t want to. You know I’ll support you in whatever you do, but, babe…” Bridget paused. “This isn’t a life, and we can’t go on like this.”
“So it’s my fault.” Alex’s voice was flat. That was who she was now, someone who sleepwalked through her days.
Bridget scooted closer. “Alex, no, that’s not what I said.”
Alex focused on her breathing. This was just a rough patch. She wouldn’t always feel this way, and when she felt better, Bridget would feel better, too. They could be happy again. They would.
Bridget shrugged with one shoulder. “I don’t know. I don’t know what the answer is. But maybe we need to explore what we want. Separately.”
Alex finally looked up into Bridget’s clear eyes. “What are you saying?”
Bridget licked her lips. “I’m saying I want to go to New York for a little while. I’m serious about my music career, and that’s the next logical step for me. I’ve got a friend there. Max. I’ve talked about him. He knows some people, says he can get us a few gigs, maybe get our stuff heard by the right crowd.”
Alex set down her tea and put her head in her hands. She’d never survive a separation, not now. When she finally spoke, the words came out low and hoarse. “I need you.”
“Do you? Because you don’t let me hold you or talk to you or comfort you.” Bridget’s voice wasn’t cruel, just sad. “And what about what I need? We barely see each other, and when we do, we barely talk.” She swiped a hand through her hair. “Can we even call this a relationship?”
Fuck. Alex knew something would break eventually. She just didn’t expect it to be them. They were solid. Even if her dad’s death had rocked their foundation a little, they were solid.
Bridget came even closer, rubbed the back of Alex’s neck. “Look, baby, I know things have been hard for you, but I really think we could use a break. We just keep putting pressure on ourselves. If we don’t do something about it, we’ll implode.” She rested her forehead against the side of Alex’s head. “Why not try the long distance thing for a while? I’ll go to New York for a few months and play some shows and network. You can stay here, or move back home, and decide how the café fits into our future.”
Sighing, Alex scrubbed her face. She didn’t want to stay without Bridget, but she didn’t want to go to New York, either. She didn’t know what she wanted.
“And there won’t be any pressure. No timeline,” Bridget continued. “Just us making informed decisions about what we want.”
Alex let out a long, shuddering breath. Bridget deserved more than her. Bridget had big dreams, and she’d never be satisfied with less. Maybe Alex should just give up now.
But she couldn’t. She was selfish. She couldn’t let go of the only woman she’d ever loved. She twisted into Bridget’s embrace, buried her face in the curve of her neck.
Bridget’s arms came around her. “What do you need, baby?” she murmured. “Please tell me what you need.”
“You,” Alex whispered, and then she kissed Bridget, and there was no more talking that night.
Now
Alex was in the process of stripping out of her fourth choice of flannel shirt when her doorbell rang. Cursing, she ran a hand through her hair and dashed down the steps, Benny at her heels.
Lu and Owen were at the door, Owen carrying Keiko in that little backpack thing she seemed to love.
Alex squeezed Keiko’s chubby cheeks and dropped a kiss on her forehead. “Thank God you guys are here.”
“You don’t have to pretend,” Owen said. “I know I only got invited because I literally bring the cuteness.”
Rolling her eyes, Alex led them up to her room, where clothes littered her bed, the chair in the corner, and the floor.
“Holy hell,” Lu said, laughing.
O
wen covered Keiko’s ears. “Watch it, please.”
“She doesn’t understand it.”
“She will someday.”
Lu’s eyeroll was surprisingly fond. “Fine. I will attempt to curb my sailor’s mouth.”
Alex mustered up a glare. “Did you come to help or not?”
“Okay, calm down.” Lu rummaged through the closet. “First of all, you’ve got good instincts going with a flannel because that girl loves you in flannel.”
Alex’s cheeks burned. “She does?”
“Oh, yeah,” said Owen. “Ever wonder why Lu hid all your flannels that one summer?”
Heh, she’d forgotten about that. “I wondered why they mysteriously reappeared in my closet right around the time I was packing to go back to school.”
“I had to stop you two from being unbearably cute somehow.” Lu tossed a pair of black jeans at her. “Take those off. Put these on. They make your butt look better.”
“Oh, um…” Should that even be an issue today? Maybe she should look casual, like they were just old friends going for coffee.
Except she knew with certainty now that wasn’t what she wanted.
She stripped out of her cargo pants and stepped into the jeans. Next, Owen chose a forest-green T-shirt bearing her bar’s logo. Lu picked out a blue-and-green flannel to match.
“And…” The last piece Owen handed her was a light quilted vest.
She threw it on and held out her arms. “How do I look?”
“Very gay,” Lu said.
Giggling, Keiko wiggled her arms. Alex took that as approval.
Bridget fixed her hair in the living room mirror above the mantel. She’d never felt so nervous and so calm at the same time. Nervous because Alex might want her back—at least wanted a date. Calm because that was what love did.
And it was love. She’d never stopped being in love with Alex.
Which meant today could be the start of their second chance. She blew out her breath in a measured whoosh, turning to face Max on the couch. “Do I look okay?”
“You look amazing,” he said. “How are you feeling?”
“A little nauseated, a little thrilled.”
He lifted a knowing eyebrow. “You’ve dated one of the biggest movie stars in the country.”
“This is different.”
“I know. I’m just saying to breathe and be yourself. She loved you once. She’ll love you again.”
Bridget hoped so. Before she could lose her nerve, the doorbell rang.
Max threw one arm around her shoulders and squeezed. “Go. Have a great time. I’ll be here when you get back.”
“Thanks.” She kissed him on the cheek. He was the best friend she could ask for. Even now, when she should be concentrating on the concert, he wasn’t on her back to practice. He wasn’t yelling about distractions. Instead he was telling her to put herself first, encouraging her to go on this date. She’d spent so long putting her career first, pushing everything else down, that it had no place to go but right back up.
Between the living room and the foyer, Bridget managed to convince herself this was all an elaborate hoax. It wouldn’t be Alex at the door. It would be Lu or Owen or Jordan or Riley, telling her to move on and get a life.
But it wasn’t a hoax. Alex stood on the porch, looking sexy as hell in a flannel and vest.
Breathe, Bridget, she told herself. Just breathe.
“Hi,” Alex said shyly.
“Hi.”
Alex stuffed her hands into her pockets. “So, uh, are you ready to go?”
“Oh, yeah, of course.” Bridget willed herself to calm down as she pulled the door shut behind her and followed Alex to the truck.
“Where are we going?” she asked as Alex held the passenger door open.
Alex didn’t reply until she slid into the driver’s seat. “You’ll see.”
“You’re really not going to tell me?”
“I’m really not going to tell you.”
“That’s not fair,” Bridget said, laughing. But she turned her attention to the radio, settling on the only station in town that played popular music—and regretting that decision when the current song ended and one of hers came on. She reached for the dial. “Sorry. I’ll—”
“It’s okay,” Alex said. “I like this song.”
She did? She’d heard this song? Her mom had said that Alex never picked up the CDs Bridget had sent for her, and Lu had given her the impression that Alex switched off the radio or TV anytime Bridget came on.
Before she could contemplate this shift in attitude, Alex said, “I have two conditions for today.”
Conditions? Bridget’s heart lurched in her ribcage. She’d thought this was a date, not a negotiation. “Okay…”
“The first is that we don’t talk about the past.”
Bridget smiled. She’d readily agree to that, especially if it meant no more trying to figure out who shared more of the blame. “I can do that. And the second?”
“We don’t talk about the future.”
“There’s only today?”
“That’s right.”
The truth was, Bridget burned to talk about the future. What did this date mean? What did she even want it to mean? She could push that down, though. She could be present in the here and now and worry about the future in the morning. “Okay,” she agreed.
“Okay,” Alex said, “and thank you.”
Bridget didn’t say anything because she knew Alex, knew it meant Alex didn’t know exactly how she felt yet. She wanted today to be today and nothing else, and maybe, tomorrow, it could be something more. But Alex always hedged her bets, always made her decisions around the possibility of getting hurt.
And after all this time, the thing they agreed on most was that they didn’t want to hurt each other—or get hurt by each other—again.
So, she relaxed. There was only today, and she intended to have fun and make the most of it.
It wasn’t long before Alex pulled into the parking lot of Sunberry Farms. Bridget couldn’t contain her grin. They used to come here every summer to pick strawberries and every fall to pick apples and pumpkins. She had so many good memories associated with this place, and she was touched that Alex thought of it.
“You could’ve told me,” Bridget said as she hopped out of the truck.
Alex walked around the front of the vehicle to join her and shrugged. “I wanted it to be a surprise. But you’re okay with it, right?”
“Of course I am.”
“Good. Ready?”
Bridget inhaled the fresh scents of hay and apples and fall. There was nothing like a warm day out in the October sunshine walking beside the woman you adored. And since there was no yesterday, no tomorrow, only today, Bridget decided to be bold and reach for Alex’s hand.
Alex didn’t pull it back.
They started their trip at the market, an outdoor area with wooden booths featuring crafters, florists, small brewers, and more. Once upon a time, they used to take turns buying each other flowers. Neither of them made a move today, though. Instead, they bought cups of cider to sip as they strolled.
Past the market was the kids’ activity area and the ticket booths. They got two tickets for the hayride, the only way to get to the orchard. It rolled by every fifteen minutes, and, as the next was still at least five minutes away, they chatted about nothing, falling into a familiarity that threatened Bridget’s promise not to think about the future.
When the tractor pulling the hayride rattled up, Alex helped her onto it. She chose the hay bales in the back corner and took delight in the way Alex sat close enough that their thighs pressed together.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” she asked.
Alex rolled her eyes. “About that time we rode the haunted hayride during their fright nights?”
“Uh-huh.”
“I know what you’re going to say.”
“You were so scared.”
“I…was. I definitely was,” Alex said, joining in Bridget’s laughter. “I hate people jumping out at me. I don’t understand why people like that.”
“It’s an adrenaline rush.”
“There are way better adrenaline rushes out there.”
“We were stupid in high school.”
“Yeah, we were.”
Alex’s eyes were shining brightly. Bridget bit her lip as she admired the view.
“We came back every year,” Alex said in a more sober voice, “and even though everyone wanted to go on the haunted hayride, you always stayed behind with me.”
Bridget bumped her shoulder. “Yeah, well, being with you was way better than any silly ride.”
“Mm.”
When they reached their destination, as they dismounted, a farm employee handed them a bushel basket to share. The orchard was gorgeous, fragrant, and full of light. Little kids shouted and screamed as they ran around their parents’ legs and through the rows of trees.
While Bridget preferred honeycrisp, Alex favored ginger gold, and they had long since learned how to go about the picking in a methodical manner. They started in the honeycrisp section.
Though they’d done this more than once, it’d been a while for Bridget, and she was out of practice. She no longer had a good sense for what height she could reach. By the time Alex had gathered four, she still had none.
“You know you could get the ones closer to the ground with far less effort,” Alex said, chuckling.
“They don’t taste as good,” Bridget said.
“Pretty sure they taste the same.” Alex set their basket on the ground. “Need some help?”
“What, you think you can reach the high ones?”
“No. I think we can do it together.”
And then Alex was turning her back to Bridget and leaning down and waiting.
“We’re not teenagers anymore, Lex,” said Bridget. “What if I hurt you?”
“You won’t. I promise,” Alex said over her shoulder. She flicked a smile Bridget’s way. “Besides, we’ve got to get you those high apples.”
Always a Love Song Page 15