Head Over Feels

by Scott, S. L.

  Closing the door behind me, I take the opening as an opportunity to lay out the rest of my case. Though I’m not sure where to sit or if I should stand. I’m thinking right next to her probably won’t go over well, so I sit in a chair on the other side of the coffee table from her.

  She settles into the cushions and then twists her hair on top of her head, fastening it with an elastic before she rests back. Gnawing on the inside of her cheek, she toys with the belt of her robe and then takes an audible breath. “Go on.”

  “Do you have any questions for me? Anything on your mind?”

  She glances away with a look of annoyance filtering through her features. “Too many to bother asking at this stage.”

  “What stage is that?”

  “The one that has us going in reverse instead of moving forward with our own lives.” What is my own life without her? Doesn’t she see?

  “I don’t want that,” I say, trying my best to stay calm and not just blurt out that I love her. She needs to be heard, especially after what I put her through. So, I let her lead.

  She furrows her brows, seemingly baffled. “You don’t want what? The reverse or the forward?”

  “Either. Neither option works for me.”

  She arches a brow. “Well, this isn’t only about you anymore.”

  “It never was only about me. I tried to do my best for everyone who wanted a piece of me and failed miserably.”

  “You failed because you focused on the stuff that was always going to come back at you negatively. Such a tangled web you weaved.” She pushes up, her back stiffening. Her hands clasp together in front of her chest. “You had me, Rad. You had me and chose to lose me over what you keep calling a charade. Getting engaged goes beyond a faux romance that was supposedly performed for Marlow’s dad.”

  Taken aback, I stare at her, now knowing why she was so upset. “You heard I was engaged?”

  The question makes her bristle. “Every guest heard you were engaged, that you made it official with Marlow down on the beach before the wedding.”

  What the fuck is going on? “Who’d you hear that from?”

  She crosses her arms over her chest again. “Doesn’t matter,” she says pointedly.

  Now everything makes sense. “It sure the fuck does matter. Someone telling you something that they had no right to say is my fucking business.”

  “Not if it doesn’t change things.” She summons a deep breath, but it’s shaky. “An engagement is a declaration of your love,” she says, her voice sounding wistful. “It shows the world you’ve found your soul mate.”

  I thought we were on the right track. My heart beats faster, like I might be given the chance that I so desperately want. That I need. To have it lost in an instant based on gossip . . . I’m to blame. I’m the one who hurt her. It’s because of me that she would even believe that lie.

  Then her eyes pin me to the couch. “Rad, you talk a good talk, but it was about walking the walk as well. You and I were always sitting on the same side of the table. We had nothing to protect from the other. We were on the same team. Team us. But just when I thought we were really coming together, you turned against me. You just didn’t give me the courtesy of knowing your feelings had changed.”

  “We were on the same team. We are. We still are, Tealey.”

  “I believe you. I really do. I think you’re hardwired to work in such a way that you’d rather hide your heart than put it on the line to be hurt. And I think that’s why you did this, whether you’re conscious of it or not.” She stands, leaving me so much to digest.

  But the flaw in her argument . . . I rub the bridge of my nose, realizing I do treat us like we’re on different sides of a case.

  She leans her hip against the kitchen bar with her arms crossed over her chest. Her anger begins to dissipate, but the distrust is still on display in her pursed lips. I slow the questions racing through my head. This isn’t a cross-examination. This is the woman I want to be with, the one I want to marry.

  I stand, coming around the couch and resting on the back of it. We have enough separating us that I don’t want distance to add to it.

  “I fucked up,” I say. “I’m sorry for that. You’re right. I had your devotion and lost your trust. My attention was divided when you gave me all of yours. But I need you to know the truth because somewhere along the grapevine, someone else lied to you.”

  Her arms tighten their hold around her, making herself smaller. Fuck. Have I done that? If given the chance, I’ll make sure she always knows how much she means to me and that I value her.

  “Who lied?” she asks. “About what?”

  “You may think I know nothing about feelings, especially love, but hear me out. I would never, not ever sacrifice the chance to ask for your hand in marriage for a ploy to gain financial wealth.”

  Her blinks have appeared measured until now, when they become erratic. “I’m not following.”

  “When I ask you to marry me, that will be the only time I ever ask anybody.”

  She begins to pace in front of me, staring at the floor, but occasionally glancing at me. She stops and stares me directly in the eyes. “Are you saying you didn’t ask Marlow to marry you?”

  “The only woman I’d ever ask that of is you.”

  I hear her gulp, and then her bottom lip wobbles. “You want to marry me?” Her hands flail in front of her face. “One day?”

  I’ve never felt more certain about anything than knowing I want her in my life forever. “I’m going to marry you one day, Tealey. If you let me, we can work through the misinformation and get to the truth. But I want you to know that whoever told you that Marlow and I were engaged probably has an ulterior motive. His name probably starts with Jean as well.”

  Her eyes mist with tears. “He also said Americans have lost the art of romance.”

  I hold my hand out, palm up for a long couple of seconds. Finally, when she slips her hand in mine, I kiss it. “Give me a second chance to love you, Tealey Bell, and I’ll spend the rest of my life proving that fucker wrong.”

  The tears she’s been holding back break the dam and stream down her beautiful face. I close the gap and wrap my arms around my girl instead.

  “Tealey?”

  “Yeah?”

  I lean back just enough to see her. Tilting her chin up to look into her eyes, I say, “I love you. I love you so much.”

  Tears fall from her eyes again. “I love you,” she says. “And I’m sorry for not trusting you.” She lifts on her feet to kiss me again. Our lips are together, and our souls are in sync.

  When she hugs me, I realize how much I missed not just her presence and soul that fills mine with life, but her touch, her body against mine, and this connection.

  It’s been an intense sixteen hours. I wouldn’t want to repeat that again.

  Stepping back, she grins. “I’m glad we got everything out on the table.” The belt of her robe loosens, and the ends fall apart. As if I couldn’t have planned it better, I strip off the hoodie I had to buy to hide my shirt. Now seems like the right time to reveal it.

  I watch as her gaze guides across the design. I see the joy when it rises inside. Looking down, she pulls her shirt away from her chest, and says, “Got Rhubarb?”

  I grin. “I got your rhubarb right here, babe.”

  “Where’d you find that shirt? It’s perfect.”

  “In the I’m-the-right-guy-for-you section of the store.”

  Her lips twist with a smile that warms my heart. “Punny guy.”

  I wink. “I learn from the best.”

  I used to think that sex had nothing to do with dating. Dating was about companionship while sex just satisfied physical needs. I was wrong. With the right person, you not only find what you want but you also get what you need.

  I kiss the top of her head and then lower to her forehead and cheek and then find her lips. When we’re left breathless, we part begrudgingly. Tealey’s smile lights up my life once again, and she asks, �
��Is it me or is the best part of fighting the making up?”

  “I think it’s the only good part of fighting.” I smirk. “I think we should get to it. Do you still have those condoms?”

  Joy sparks in her eyes. “We’ve used a lot, but I think I have a good twenty or so left. Except they’re at home.”

  Home.

  I wrap my arm around her shoulder and kiss her head again. “Yes, speaking of, let’s go home together. Forever.” I kiss her again and then let her go, only temporarily so she can gather her belongings. “I forgot to ask, who’s Poughkeepsie and what an unfortunate name.”

  “What do you mean who?”

  I narrow my eyes in confusion. “Last night, you said you were choosing Poughkeepsie.”

  “Oh.” She laughs. “The city.”

  “Still lost.” I’ve learned that eventually, we’ll get there, but I’m not in a hurry.

  Rolling her suitcase in from the spare room, she says, “I’m being transferred to Poughkeepsie.”

  “What?” I ask, thinking we just took two steps back. “No way. Not having it. Not on my watch.”

  With her hand on her hip, she cocks a brow at me over a teasing smile. “You may have a nice watch, Rad, but you have no say.”

  I grin. “We’ll see.”

  40

  Tealey

  Lately, Rad’s favorite thing to do is to introduce me as his girlfriend . . . to anyone who will listen.

  Strangers at the coffee shop.

  The poor souls stuck sitting next to us at restaurants.

  Don’t even get me started on the sweet elderly couple at the movie theater the other night. The memory causes me to blush on command.

  I’m not complaining. I always get a compliment or two. He gets a “lucky guy,” so I figure we both win. It’s just fun to tease him because seeing the former most eligible bachelor brag about how lucky he is for being my boyfriend makes me pretty damn lucky, too.

  We walk in, holding hands, and weave through the busy diner until we see our friends in the back. I wave. I know Cammie and Cade were only gone two weeks, but I’ve missed them. And now they’re officially a married couple.

  A round of mimosas awaits us, and we hug. “Was it the best?” I ask her about their honeymoon in the Bahamas.

  “It’s the bluest water I’ve ever seen. We all need to go sometime.” She leans in as the guys shake hands. “And you need to fill me in on everything asap. I’ve been dying for this to come out.”

  “You knew?”

  She glances to Rad nervously. “Um, someone let it slip in the Hamptons.” Just as I give Rad the evil eye, she says, “I was sworn to secrecy and it was nice to see thing evolve naturally. You didn’t need all of us in your relationship.”

  “I appreciate that.” Giving Rad a look again, I say, “You owe me a new mug.” It’s my favorite way to justify my addiction, get him to buy them for me.

  He squeezes my hand. “I know other ways to repay you.”

  “Oh, that sounds interesting.”

  Kissing the top of my head, he says, “I’ll tell you all about it later in bed.”

  My body heats and I wipe my brow. “Can’t wait.”

  Cade leans in to give me a hug, and then I turn to sit next to Rad right before Jackson and Marlow walk in. Or maybe I should say, arriving at the same time. She looks at him behind her in surprise. “Oh, I didn’t see you there.” She acts all awkward. “Hey.”

  He nods . . . awkwardly. “Hey.”

  I notice a few people around our table staring. We never much cared if we made a scene. We’re loud. We’re a family.

  With Rad holding my hand on one side of me, Marlow says, “We should hang out soon.”

  “We should.” We’ve communicated through text several times and had a call after Rad and I made up, but it’s been relatively quiet after that. I ask, “Are you doing okay?”

  “I am.”

  Getting a good look at her, I start to see the subtle changes in her hair—less styled and more natural. Her makeup is lighter, and her clothes are casual. Casual for Marlow anyhow. “You look pretty.”

  She smiles sheepishly. “Thanks. You always look pretty, Teals, but you look especially happy.”

  “I am.” I hug her. She’s my best friend. I know she would never hurt me, not on purpose. I think we’ve all learned a hard lesson that’s made us take inventory of ourselves. “Thanks.”

  When we pull back, we exchange smiles, and then she hands me a present. I ask, “What is this?”

  “I thought it was time for a change. Seems to be the season.”

  I discard the tissue and pull a T-shirt from the bag. Holding it in front of me, I read, “I’m a Rachel.” The Friends tee makes me smile and feels a lot like I just got a promotion. “You didn’t have to do this. I’m happy to be Phoebe to your Rachel.”

  She squeezes my hand. “I love you, Teals.”

  I embrace her again, rubbing her back. “Thank you.”

  Cammie asks me, “Have the calls stopped?”

  The only downside to dating the Big Apple’s most eligible bachelor—for three years running, he likes to add—is our relationship became public very fast. The news that Radcliffe Wellington was “taken” hit hard and fast, and then we were old news. I ask, “From the gossip columnists or Rad’s lady friends? Yes, to the former. No, to the latter. I guess the news of us dating hasn’t landed in Europe yet.” I nudge Rad with my elbow and laugh. He rolls his eyes. Why is it so cute when he does that?

  After we catch up on the past few weeks in each of my friends’ lives, we eat, and then Cammie says, “Now for the business at hand.”

  Cammie, Cade, Rad, and I turn to the guilty parties—Marlow and Jackson. It helped that we were all in cahoots to figure out exactly what was going on with those two.

  Marlow’s gaze dashes from one to the next until she’s staring at Jackson. He shrugs, so she looks at Cammie, and asks, “What?”

  Always direct, Cade asks, “Are you two friends with benefits or the real thing?” He grabs a bagel from the basket in the center of the table and starts smearing cream cheese on it like this is everyday conversation. Gotta love him.

  While Marlow sputters the mimosa she just drank, Jackson says, “Huh?”

  Rad says, “Playing dumb isn’t a defense. For the record, too many things don’t add up.”

  Marlow dabs the corners of her mouth, eyeing the door like she’s about to make a break for it. Jackson mutters under his breath, “Let’s just tell them.”

  She does the most minute shake of her head. I say, “Just in case you weren’t aware, we can hear and see you.”

  “Fine,” she replies, her palms hitting the Formica table and causing the flatware to jump and then clang against our plates. “We had sex.”

  Jackson sits back with a wry smirk, and adds, “We have sex.”

  Marlow gasps, blinking rapidly. With her mouth hanging open, she scans our faces, but I’m sure we don’t look much different. Jackson’s arm wings out, nudging her. When she looks at him, he winks. I’m not sure if it was the wink or nudge that sets her off when she blurts, “Fine!” She crosses her arms over her chest. “We have sex. Sometimes. When we’re lonely. I’m busy with my career, and he’s busy, and I guess it’s easy. He’s easy.”

  “Geez, thanks, Marlow,” he replies sarcastically.

  Reaching for her leg, he rests his hand there like any of this is normal. She glances at it and then calms. “Comforting. I meant comforting with the familiarity.” She faces us, and the steadiness of her expression makes me believe her. Her chin rises in the air, and she says, “I’m sure a lot like how you and Rad were.”

  Rad laughs. “Don’t drag us into this. This is all about the two of you.”

  This is too amusing. I sit back in my chair and watch Marlow squirm. “Do you go on dates?”

  Like an old married couple, Jackson takes this one. “We hang out, but we don’t go on official dates. It’s not like that with us. Though we do order pizza
sometimes. She makes me order cauliflower crust, so that doesn’t really count as pizza.”

  “I’m watching my carb intake. You know that. Anyway, there aren’t complications with him,” she says, joining in. I almost expect him to say tag, you’re it. “We already decided that if we meet someone we want to get to know better, then we’ll stop doing whatever this is.”

  Jackson’s nodding, and the way they’re looking at each other, I guess they’re on the same page.

  Cade says, “All right. With that out of the way, who’s coming over to watch the game?”

  Rad stands. “Sorry, Tealey and I already have plans.” Tossing money on the table, he says, “Brunch is on me.”

  Everyone gets up and files out of the restaurant. Just outside the door on the sidewalk, Marlow asks, “So next Sunday?”

  “We’re in,” Cammie replies.

  I glance at Rad, but I already know the answer. He takes my hand, and says, “We’ll be here.” I’ve never felt so right about my decision to let him back into my life. Hearing the man I can rely on to always be there privately and publicly sound so happy to be one-half of a couple makes my heart melt.

  Jackson nudges Marlow. “Since I’ll be rolling out of your bed—”

  “Ew. You’re so crude, Jackson.”

  “That’s why you love me.”

  “I don’t love you,” she snaps. “I’m still not sure if I even like you, if I’m telling the truth.”

  “Well, something keeps you sniffing around my door.”

  Marlow whacks him on the arm.

  Rad chuckles. “Okay, guys. I think it’s time to go. Have a good week.” Taking my hand, he leads me in the opposite direction as the four of them.

  We start down the sidewalk, the warm afternoon air caressing my skin. Birds chirp happily overhead. “What do you plan on doing the rest of the day, Miss Bell?”

  “Doing?” I smirk, giving him the grin I usually save for when we’re alone. “Nothing but you, Counselor.”

  His arm flies into the air. “Taxi!”