Forever Only Once

by Carrie Ann Ryan

  I had lots going on in my head, but it wasn’t just Chris on my mind. I was wondering why the hell Hazel hadn’t texted me yet.

  Usually, we texted throughout the day, but I always let her text me first because her schedule was such that she would likely be surrounded by people. I didn’t want to bother her.

  So now, I waited. And I seriously hated waiting.

  Hell. I’d become a teenage boy, dealing with texting. But I couldn’t help myself.

  I picked up my phone and looked at the time. She would be out of work by now. Would likely be home. And she hadn’t contacted me. Why was I so worried about this?

  Things were going fucking fantastic between us. I shouldn’t stress out just because everything else in my life was up in the air. Go ahead with Hazel? We were still processing things, but it was good. I wasn’t going to fuck it up.

  So why did I feel like that was the only thing I was doing these days?

  I sighed, glanced around my empty workshop, then picked up my phone.

  Me: Good day at work?

  Good one, Cross.

  Jesus. It was like I’d forgotten how to speak to another person—text or not. If she needed space, I should give it to her. This whole relationship thing was new to her, just like it was to me. I hadn’t been in a serious relationship because I hadn’t found the right person. I thought Hazel might be that person, and it should worry me that I thought that, but it didn’t.

  No, I wanted more. Maybe that was why I was so nervous.

  Hazel: Sorry, been busy all day. How are you?

  Not many words. Somehow, I felt like I was annoying her.

  This whole thing with Chris had me rethinking everything I was doing. What the hell? I was terrible at dating. I had told her multiple times that I was good at other things. Like communicating with fucking people.

  Why was I messing up like this?

  Me: Just wanted to see how you were doing since I knew you were working today. I’m at home thinking about what project to start next.

  I looked down at the phone, wondering if I should say anything else. I had no idea what she wanted me to say.

  Me: I missed you.

  There was such a long pause, that I was afraid that I had said the wrong thing, that I’d said too much.

  I didn’t feel like I was baring my soul. How could I be when I didn’t know what she wanted from me?

  I felt like I was messing up once again. I didn’t even know what I wanted or what she needed.

  She had so much emotional baggage. The fact that I was the first person after her ex that she’d been with was a lot.

  I didn’t want to rush her, but I needed to work through my feelings, too, something I wasn’t good at. Something I didn’t even like to talk about.

  I needed to figure this out. I also needed to give her time.

  I just didn’t want to wait anymore.

  What did that say about me?

  Hazel: I missed you too. The girls were asking about you today.

  That put a smile on my face, and I picked up my phone.

  Me: Yeah?

  Hazel: There were eggplant emojis involved.

  I barked out a laugh and shook my head.

  Me: How many did you give me?

  Hazel: Never mind, but don’t worry, I’m thinking about exactly what I’m going to tell them in person.

  I laughed again.

  Me: I’ve heard my sister and the others talk. I know that you ladies like to divulge way more than I’m comfortable with. Just give me a heads up if you’re going into too much detail. Because when I finally meet your friends, I don’t want to blush like a schoolboy.

  Hazel: I’m sure it’ll all be complimentary. Maybe. We’ll see.

  Me: I sure hope so. I remember exactly what we did last night.

  Hazel: So do I. Hence why I was a complete mess today at work. I should probably plan better if we’re ever going to do that again on a school night.

  If ever? I asked myself. It sure as hell would happen again if I had any say in it.

  Me: Maybe you should just leave clothes at my house.

  Where the hell had that come from? We’d only been together for a little over a month at this point. Almost two if I did the math. Was that enough time for this? I was so new to all of this, even though I wasn’t in college or anything anymore. But I’d never been in a situation where I wanted someone’s clothes at my house.

  She was silent long enough that I was afraid I’d said the wrong thing. Hell, maybe I had.

  I had no idea what the fuck I was doing.

  Hazel: Maybe. And I’m not just saying that because I want to change the subject. I just don’t know if texting is the best way to talk about that. Like we’ve both said before, we kinda suck at this.

  Me: Yeah. I just asked you to leave stuff at my house in a fucking text message.

  Hazel: And I thought it would be nice if you had a toothbrush over here, and I was going to buy you one because I know you had to use your finger last time because sharing toothbrushes is weird.

  I grinned.

  Me: Considering where we put our mouths with each other, it shouldn’t be weird. But you’re right, maybe I will leave a toothbrush there.

  Hazel: Or maybe I’ll just get you one.

  I grinned, wondering what I had done in a past life to deserve her.

  I didn’t know, but I hoped I was doing the right thing now.

  I hoped that I wasn’t stressing her out. Or making things worse.

  Because I was still trying to figure out what I wanted when it came to Hazel, and I knew she had way more baggage than even I did.

  Considering that I had a huge family and a coworker who was stealing from me and acting sketchy as fuck, that was saying something.

  My fingers moved before I even really knew what was happening.

  Me: When am I going to see you again?

  Hazel: I think we planned dinner tomorrow, didn’t we?

  I cursed.

  Me: I forgot. But yes, dinner tomorrow.

  Hazel: Thanks for taking your time with me, Cross. I know I seem hot and cold at times, but that’s because I’m trying to figure this out.

  I picked up my phone and dialed her number.

  “Hey,” I said as she answered.

  “Hey.”

  “I was tired of texting. My fingers are too big for this fucking phone.”

  “I would make a penis joke or ask what exactly you can do with your fingers, but I think we know exactly what you’re good at.”

  I smirked.

  “You know. But before you sputter or I say something moronic, just know that I like what we’re doing. I know we’re both trying to figure this out, but I’m trying to be more open. I’m trying to figure out what I want to say. I’m just not good with words.”

  “I think you’re better than you think you are.”

  “Oh?” I asked.

  “Yes. And thanks for giving me time. I wasn’t ready for this, even though I said I was going into dating with that pact and all. I’m just not sure I was ready for you.”

  We were both silent for a moment, stunned by her honesty. I swallowed hard.

  “The Bradys are hard to be ready for.”

  She laughed, and I was glad that she’d let me off the hook with that remark. Because I didn’t know what I wanted, not when my professional life was up in the air.

  My family was steady, but work wasn’t.

  As for Hazel? Why did I feel like she was the other steady part of my life? I barely knew her. We were just figuring out who we were as a couple.

  But I felt like we could be something more, and this feeling within me, this gut-churning, scary, palms-going-clammy feeling had to be something.

  Did I love her?

  I had never loved a woman before. Never said the words, other than to my family.

  But as I heard her voice and her laugh as we talked about her day and then mine and just tried to keep ourselves rooted in whatever steadiness we co
uld, I wondered if I loved her.

  And then I wondered what that would mean for tomorrow, and the next day, and the next.

  Chapter 15

  Hazel

  * * *

  Paris: You still haven’t talked about his eggplant. We’re going to need the details.

  I crossed my eyes as I looked down at my phone, shaking my head.

  It was my day off, and I was meeting Cross later for a date. We might be discussing his eggplant at that point. But I had no plans to talk about it with my friends. Oh, I had joked that I was going to draw it in dramatic detail. But nobody needed to know exactly what I had with Cross beyond my current feelings. Not that I could talk about those. Because I needed to work through them first, and that was the hard part. Figuring out exactly what I wanted and how I could be safe emotionally and physically, then making that happen.

  It wasn’t going to be easy, not when every time I felt like I could get close to Cross, thoughts of Thomas came back.

  That wasn’t fair to Cross, and we both knew it. However, I knew he was giving me leeway for that.

  But I was here. I was whole enough. I had to be.

  Thomas wasn’t part of this. He wasn’t even near me. He wasn’t going to come after me.

  He couldn’t.

  I was safe.

  And if I kept telling myself that, I wouldn’t live in fear like I did. I might let myself trust Cross and my friends, but I couldn’t trust anyone else.

  My hand gripped the knife in my hand as I looked down at the lettuce I was cutting, and I slowly forced my fingers to relax, letting the blade go.

  Just because I was stressed out and needed to speak with my therapist again, didn’t mean I had to bottle my emotions. I was allowed to feel.

  I just had to figure out exactly what I was feeling.

  I wanted to be with Cross, didn’t I? That was the hard part, figuring out exactly what everything meant.

  It was if I had some mental block, telling me that I couldn’t be with him, even though I should be.

  Part of me wanted to be with him. Part of me needed to be with him.

  And I didn’t know what to do about that yet. He made me happy. He made me smile. He made me really grateful that he had been the one to show up at the bar and not Stavros. Because I knew for a fact that I wouldn’t be in this situation if Stavros had been the one to show up. Because there was nobody like Cross.

  Right?

  I paused and started making my salad, trying to clear my thoughts. Maybe that was the case.

  Did I love him? Could I let myself feel that again?

  The problem was, I couldn’t look back on what I felt for Thomas without remembering the pain of what he’d done. He’d hurt me. Stalked me. Then he’d hurt me again. He was in another state now, out of prison, but still far away, yet part of me still felt like he was right next to me.

  And that meant I couldn’t entirely trust my feelings.

  Yet…yet I’d gone through with the pact for love and finding happiness because I’d wanted to trust those feelings.

  So maybe…maybe I could love Cross.

  And perhaps I could see if he could love me.

  I let out a breath and shook my head. There was no use going over and over exactly what I was feeling for Cross. I needed to let myself be. I had to live in the moment.

  Something I really wasn’t used to.

  That wasn’t me, the person who could just be. I had to make plans. I had to figure out exactly what I was doing. The fact that I’d even let him sit at my table at all meant that I had already started changing in more ways than I could count.

  I wasn’t the same woman I had been with Thomas, and I surely wasn’t the same person I had become after.

  I was a new me, now, one I couldn’t quite figure out. But one I needed to decode.

  Paris: Excuse me, you’re not answering your texts. Are you playing with his eggplant emoji?

  I laughed out loud and started cleaning off the counter, my salad freshly prepared, before I finally picked up my phone.

  Me: I do believe it’s time for us to start on the next phase of this pact because if you’re spending so much time discussing a certain eggplant emoji that has nothing to do with you, it’s your time.

  Dakota: I agree with that. It’s her time next.

  Myra: So does that mean you’re done? You’re happy?

  I paused, trying to decide exactly how to answer that.

  Paris: We can’t move on to me unless we know you’re settled.

  Me: Excuse me? I didn’t know that was part of the rules. And what do we mean, settled? How settled do I need to be?

  Sweat broke out over my body, and I tried to catch my breath. Settled? I had been married once before and could still remember the heat of his breath on my neck. The way he tugged and pulled at me. The way he made me scream. I didn’t want to be married again. Right?

  Or was I wrong?

  Dakota: Hey, settled doesn’t mean married.

  Myra: No, settled just means happy. And you haven’t told us what you feel. That’s all we mean. We don’t want to leave you behind as we try to figure out the mess that is Paris’s love life.

  I laughed then and shook my head.

  Paris: Excuse me. We are all in the same boat of the what-the-hell of our love lives. You don’t need to single me out.

  Myra: You’re next. I’m going to single you out. However, the word settled does have connotations that could mean too much for all of us. Perhaps we really do need an explanation.

  I loved when Myra got all technical. She was so poised and a little elite sometimes, but then she could do shots like nobody’s business.

  Me: Let’s not discuss the word settled. Happy. Does happy work?

  Perhaps.

  Me: Maybe. What does that mean?

  Dakota: I don’t know what Paris means, but from my point of view, I think we should still work on Paris and get started because she’s just going to bombard you with eggplant emojis. While we’re doing that, we can focus on you, as well. We are smart, funny women who can multitask. Let’s do that. We’ll multitask in the name of figuring out exactly who the hell we’re going to set Paris up with, and how we’re going to make sure that you stay happy. Because we want you happy.

  My cheeks warmed, and my stomach clenched, but it wasn’t nerves. No, it was the fact that I wasn’t alone. I wasn’t alone anymore, despite what Thomas had tried for so many years.

  I had left him, run from him, and I’d lost everyone from my past. Had almost lost everything. Now I had a new family, one that I had chosen.

  Cross wasn’t part of that. Not yet. But he could be. And that was different for me. Something I was still trying to figure out. He made me happy, and I knew I wasn’t alone. I had him. So maybe I just needed to figure out what that meant.

  Me: I’m meeting Cross later tonight for dinner. I’m not going to discuss eggplant emojis with you, but let’s just say, there’s enough eggplant to go around. But I’m not sharing.

  I laughed out loud at all the emojis the other girls sent, mostly eggplants and peaches and wide-eyed little faces.

  My friends were dorks, but then again, so was I. It’s why we got along. Because we’d all been hurt in more ways than one, only some of us didn’t talk about it as much.

  But we were trying. We had made a pact to start dating for a reason. Because we were lonely and needed something more in our lives.

  Somehow, even when I wasn’t looking, Cross had become that person for me.

  Did I love him? I didn’t know.

  However, I was enjoying the fact that I was free to find out.

  My phone buzzed, and Cross’s name appeared on the screen.

  Cross: Hey, can you stop by the shop?

  I frowned. I was supposed to meet him at his place because he was going to cook for me. Not at his shop. In fact, I had never actually been there. He was staying away from it as much as he could these days because he was still trying to make plans for what came
next with Chris. I understood that and didn’t want to make things more difficult for him. But maybe he wanted to show me his art. I loved watching him work. Even though I’d only really seen it happen at his home studio. I didn’t mind dropping by the store.

  Me: What time?

  Cross: Whenever you can. Earlier, the better. Can’t wait to see you. XO.

  I frowned again. XO? That didn’t sound like him. Or maybe that was just him trying to figure out the next stage of our relationship.

  Cross: Sorry about the XO, I’m trying out a new thing. You know me. Inept.

  That made me laugh, and it sort of made more sense. A little.

  Me: I like XOs. Though I think I like them more in person.

  Cross: Get here quick, and we can do that.

  I blushed, my whole face heating, and then I smiled.

  Me: Be there soon.

  Cross: Good. The sooner, the better.

  That was good. That’s all he wanted. I didn’t know why he wanted me to meet him at Chris Cross, though I didn’t want to wait for lunch to see him either. I stuffed my salad back into the fridge, knowing I would eat it later. I didn’t want to wait to head over. He wanted me there and this feeling of being wanted had been so foreign before Cross. The fact that he was trying meant everything to me. And while I was attempting to figure out exactly what I wanted to do with my life, maybe he was figuring it out with me, too. That wasn’t something I’d truly let myself think about before. But now that I had, I couldn’t wait to find out.

  I got ready, fixing my makeup and hair, and then put my bag in the car with me. I would be leaving a few things at his house. My stomach clenched at the thought. This was a big step. Not living together, no, neither of us was ready for that yet, but it was us figuring out who we were together. And that was a big thing.

  I drove to the other side of the neighborhood and then down the highway a bit to where Cross’s shop was located, pulling into the back. I saw another car that I didn’t recognize and hoped it wasn’t Chris’s. I hadn’t even thought about that. I hadn’t met the man, but I didn’t want to find him here. I honestly wouldn’t know what to say to him. Maybe Cross was parked in the front, I wasn’t a hundred percent sure, but I was sure he was here somewhere. After all, he had just texted me.