Maybe Later

by Claudia Burgoa

  AWalk90: It doesn’t matter. Get your head out of your ass and start living.

  JSpear84: Are you going to wait for the serial killer to call?

  AWalk90: Ha!

  JSpear84: You’re not giving him a chance?

  AWalk90: Nope, I think that’s all the dating I can handle for the year. I’ll change my number and start fresh next spring.

  JSpear84: You would change your number to avoid him?

  AWalk90: He’s a serial killer. I should be moving to another country. What if he’s busy killing his latest victim and I’m next?

  JSpear84: You have an overactive imagination.

  AWalk90: …

  JSpear84: What if he is busy with work or traveling?

  AWalk90: I have things to do, Spearman. If we continue this conversation, I’ll have to bill you overtime and charge it as emotional counseling.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Jack

  Thursday, May 19th, 9:28 a.m.

  I’m unsettled. Short tempered and unable to concentrate. It’s been two days since the first time I called her. And as she promised, she wouldn’t answer calls from the guy who ghosted her. Every time I dial her number, her stupid voicemail picks up immediately. She’s not even screening my calls. Did she change her number? I’m going to have to visit the bookstore on 3rd.

  “This is Emmeline. You know what to do.”

  “Em,” I say resigned to leave her a message. “It’s Jack, I’ve been calling you for the past couple of days, and the call goes directly to voicemail. Are you okay?”

  I pause, staring at my screen. Should I send a message to Amy and tell her the truth?

  “I want to apologize for being out of touch for the last couple of weeks. Between my work and family, I haven’t had time for myself. Plus, I had a few things to sort out. The last time we saw each other was intense. You were right, we’re not ready to jump into something serious, but for a moment I wanted … fuck, I sound like a fool. It’s Friday—”

  The stupid machine cuts me off. Damn it. I call again.

  “As I was saying. It’s Friday, and I wanted to see if you wanted to go to the gallery down in Cherry Creek. We could get dinner afterward maybe have some wine. I scored some tickets for Smashing Pumpkins tomorrow, Saturday. I know they’re an old band, but I thought you’d get a kick out of a blast from the past.”

  Thursday, May 19th, 12:43 p.m.

  Emmeline: I got your voicemail. I’m fine, but busy. FYI, it’s Thursday. Smashing Pumpkins are playing tomorrow, Friday.

  Jack: What are you doing tonight?

  Emmeline: The 1975 is playing at Red Rocks tonight.

  Jack: Just got you a pair of tickets, I’ll pick you up at 5:30.

  Emmeline: I just made a comment, I mean, I have my ticket.

  Jack: You’re going by yourself?

  Emmeline: I usually do. It’s me and their music. Most likely I won’t even notice you’re there so you can come or not.

  I get it, you’re pissed at me because I didn’t call until now. Let’s make perfect Jack behave like a prince. I’ll call Jeannette, my sister, to ask for guidance.

  Jack: I’ll pick you up at 5:30.

  Emmeline: I’ll be safer if I go in my own car.

  I laugh, at least she listened to me but what the fuck am I going to do if she asks me for my last name?

  Jack: Safer?

  Emmeline: I just realized that there’s a lot I don’t know about you. What if you’re planning on kidnaping me?

  Jack: If I wanted to kidnap you, don’t you think I would’ve done it before. We already rode to Aspen and back. You are safe.

  Thursday, May 19th, 2:31 p.m.

  Jack: Em, what’s going on?

  Emmeline: Busy, I don’t have time to argue.

  Jack: Five-thirty at your place.

  Emmeline: Sorry, let’s try something over the weekend.

  Jack: Smashing Pumpkins tomorrow?

  Emmeline: Call me tomorrow.

  * * *

  Thursday, May 19th, 11:31 p.m.

  AWalk90: I’m at the hospital.

  JSpear84: What happened to you?

  AWalk90: It’s Ramen.

  JSpear84: What happened to her?

  AWalk90: I dropped my cats at the boarding place earlier today. They called to let me know that Ramen’s been injured.

  JSpear84: You’re not making any sense.

  Against my plan to keep things separate between Jack and Jackson, I call her hoping she has her personal phone.

  “Hi,” she answers.

  “Hey, I know it’s late. Can you talk?”

  “Maybe later?” she says with a shaky voice.

  “Where are you?” I ask, trying to speed things up because I hate knowing she’s alone.

  “I’m at the animal hospital. Ramen …” she sobs.

  “Text me the address, I’ll be right there,” I tell her.

  Friday, May 20th, 12:08 a.m.

  I arrive at the animal hospital. Emmeline is the only one in the waiting room. She clutches a black duffle bag to her body. Once I get closer, I notice it's a fabric kennel. One of her cats is inside.

  “Hi,” I greet her, squatting right next to her.

  My heart squeezes when I see her red eyes filled with tears.

  “Hey,” she says with a sob.

  “Is this Sushi?” I ask, and she nods. “What happened with Ramen?”

  Em explains to me that Sushi escaped her cage, and a dog attacked her. They don’t think there’s any internal bleeding, but she needs several stitches on her shoulder and arm.

  “I just don’t understand how this happened,” she whispers. “They can’t just be leaving the door of the kennel open. How didn’t they notice she was on the loose or not have a German Shepard on a leash?”

  “She’s going to be okay,” I insist. “They’re just going to stitch her arm.”

  “Poor girl, she must be terrified,” she sobs. “At least they brought her to the veterinarian right away.”

  I cradle her, speechless about the incident. Those kittens are her babies. She adores them.

  “That’s why I have a pet sitter,” she explains. “But Jared is on vacation, and I should’ve waited. Do you know how much they’ve suffered already?”

  “She just needs a few stitches, and we’ll take her home,” I say, rubbing her arms. “Do you think Sushi is okay?”

  The poor cat is inside the kennel, his amber eyes glaring at me. I swear he hates me. If I ever sleep over at Em’s, he’s going to suffocate me with his chubby body.

  “Thank you,” she says again. “You don’t have to stay.”

  “I know I don’t have to, but I want to be with you. After they update us, we’ll figure out what to do next. We can take her home or go home and sleep a couple of hours before we come back to get her.”

  She nods, resting her head on my chest. I’ve had a few relationships in my life. One during junior high that lasted almost a week. The second was during my senior year of high school. We only lasted a couple of months before realizing we were both leaving Sacramento and it wasn’t worth it to get attached. During college, I had hookups, a few short-term relationships, and then I met Vivian.

  Never in my life have I felt as if I belonged to someone. Not even my ex-wife. If I knew then what I know now, I would’ve waited all my life for Emmeline to share this precise moment. It’s crazy to think that being at the vet and consoling her is more meaningful than any other moment I’ve spent in my life. In this moment, she’s both being herself and trusting me.

  I’m what she has and needs right now—not her friends from Boston or anyone else. I never thought being this close to someone would feel this fucking amazing. Except, now I get what she means when she says the perfect moment or the perfect love. It’s about feeling exactly right. It’s about how you feel. Just right.

  “She’s not going to be happy,” Emmeline says letting out a long exhale. “She’s very picky and doesn’t like when people touch her.”
/>
  “Should I remind you that she has let me touch her?”

  Emmeline huffs.

  “Will you help me take care of her?”

  “Of course, I’ll even take the week off to be with her,” I offer and surprise myself with the words.

  “You are one of the good guys, aren’t you?”

  Good guys? I don’t know about that. In my experience, I suck at relationships—from the very first to the last—and I’m not doing that great in the current one. Since Vivian, I question if I’m the problem. Women aren’t easy to understand, but I’ve seen my parents happily married for years.

  My mom is complicated, just like him, but they make it work. Whatever happens between them is handled just between the two of them. Life would be so much easier if we had a clue of when the love of our lives would arrive. I gaze around the waiting room of the animal hospital. There’s no one else in here but us. I could be at home, or on my way to California to see my family, but I’d rather be here with Em.

  It scares me shitless to finally put myself on the line. The last time I did, I lost my privacy, my sanity, and even my zip code. It’s not like Em is asking me for a ring or giving me some shitty ultimatum. But what is she expecting?

  “Ramen Lancaster,” someone calls out from the reception.

  “That’s us,” I say.

  I take Em’s hand, and we rise from our seats.

  “How is she doing?” Em asks, studying the doctor in front of us.

  “She’s sedated. We stitched her up. Four in her shoulder and a couple on her left paw.” She looks at her clipboard. “We recommend you come back to pick her up after seven.”

  “It’s one,” I say. “We can get Sushi settled, get a few hours of sleep, and then come back to get her.”

  Em looks at me and nods once. “Okay.” She turns back to the doctor. “Were all the wounds superficial like they said at the kennel?”

  “Yes, there’s no internal bleeding or organ damage.”

  “Let’s go, babe,” I insist. “We need to get some rest. Our girl needs us.”

  She smiles at me, and her eyes look peaceful but still sad.

  We drive to her place in silence. I park a block past her building.

  “You would think there would be parking spots at one in the morning,” I complain.

  She laughs. “We’re close to downtown, people are out at the bars. It’s the weekend.”

  “Jesus,” I curse under my breath, shivering. “It’s fucking May. Shouldn’t it be warmer.”

  “How long have you lived in Colorado?” she asks. She’s trying to hide her smirk but doing a poor fucking job.

  “Come on, buddy,” I say opening the back door and taking Sushi’s carrier. “You’re home.”

  Emmeline settles Sushi into his bed, gets him fresh water and makes sure that his bowl is full. Once she’s done, I zero the distance between us and pull her into my arms for a kiss.

  Our mouths lock together eagerly. There’s no softness or finesse. Only urgency and desperation. Our tongues tangle. Frantic. Greedy. Emmeline whimpers and wraps her legs around me. Her arms around my neck and her fingers run through my hair, pulling it. She’s gone wild. Every lap of her tongue sends shockwaves straight to my dick. I’m getting fucking hard. I grind up against her.

  “What are we doing?” I ask because last time she couldn’t handle this, and right now she’s vulnerable.

  “I’m not sure.”

  Fuck, that’s what I thought.

  “I’m sorry for disappearing on you the way I did,” I open with an apology. “Can we try again?”

  She nods and says, “I’d like that.”

  “Should I stay with you for the night, or would you like me to pick you up at seven?”

  She looks at the bed then at me and sighs. “We’ll fit, it’s a king size.”

  “But you’re not ready for more than a roommate for the night.”

  “An understanding guy might help,” she adds sheepishly.

  “You’re in luck,” I offer. “You got one. Let me take a cold shower, and I’ll join you.”

  She seems a little distressed.

  Intuitively, I crook a finger at her and say, “Em, come here.”

  She takes a step closer to me, and I pull her in for a hug. Then I whisper in her ear. “I’ll wait for you. This doesn’t mean I’ll disappear on you. Believe me, the reason I didn’t call had nothing to do with sex and everything to do with my own fucking insecurities.”

  She looks up, her eyes vulnerable.

  I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to pull her jeans and lacy panties down. I’d give my left ball to be able to push her down to the couch and taste her pussy. Lick her slick core until I drove her crazy with lust and she came in my mouth.

  But tonight, I’ll take care of myself—as I’ve been doing for the past month—and hold her against my body while she sleeps.

  “You surprise me,” she whispers against my chest. “Thank you for calling at just the right time.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Jack

  From: J. Spearman

  To: A. Walker

  Subject: Family Emergency

  Monday, May 23th, 8:00 a.m.

  There was a family emergency, and I’ll be out of the office for the next couple of days. I delegated most of my tasks, so you don’t have to worry about your problem child. What happened to your cat?

  J.

  AWalk90 sent you a playlist

  AWalk90: Is everyone okay?

  I look at Ramen who is resting next to me. She’s doing better. We picked her up Friday morning, and she’s barely left my side. I stayed with Em for the weekend, and I might continue doing the same for the next couple of days. Ramen only eats when I’m next to her, petting her. She lets me clean her wounds. If Em gets close to her, she hisses at her.

  JSpear84: Yes, everything is under control.

  AWalk90: Ramen is okay. She’s being spoiled.

  “Put that cat down, Jack,” Emmeline calls me from her office. “I swear she’s just playing you.”

  “She needs a few more days of love,” I protest and pet the cat. “Do you need more coffee, babe?”

  “You’re spoiling me too,” she says and shows me her mug. “I should hire you as my assistant.”

  I pour more coffee into her mug and do the same with mine. All weekend I’ve been cuddling and spoiling the both of them.

  “Here.” I set the mug on her desk and kiss the top of her head.

  It’s the first time I’ve been in her office. The white walls are covered in quotes, Post-its, and there’s even a whiteboard.

  “Quotes for every occasion?”

  Emmeline bounces from her chair and begins to point at them. “The ones with a black marker are the ones I make up. The red ones are from some of my clients. The blue ones are the ones I find on the internet. The Post-its are from books.”

  “Take the day off,” I suggest, grabbing her around the waist and swinging her around.

  She sighs, hugging me tightly with her arms and legs.

  “I have a lot to do. Thankfully, one of my clients is out of town. If I hurry, I should be done early. I can even delegate a few things to Laura.”

  “Your best friend?” I ask her as I set her down on the floor. “Yeah, she’s doing some freelance work for me,” she says casually. “Are you sure you don’t have to go to work?”

  I shake my head. “I asked for a couple of days off.”

  “Have I told you how amazing you are today?” her face beams. “You called, came just in time and…well, you’ve been here for me since the animal hospital.”

  I cup her face. “It’s nothing. I’m just glad I was able to be with you. Should we clear the air? We haven’t spoken much about us.”

  “What happened with your ex-wife?” she asks.

  It feels like a punch directly to the gut. Can’t we start the conversation with something lighter?

  “We got divorced more than five years ago.”r />
  “So, it’s really over?”

  I nod in response.

  She caresses the scar on my neck. “If you can be patient with me. I’m new to relationships, and I have a lot to learn.”

  I lift her chin and press my mouth to hers, lightly. Her pink lips part releasing a throaty moan.

  “We have plenty of time,” I say before my mouth melts onto hers.

  I touch my tongue to the seam of her lips. She opens for me and my tongue delves inside to taste the sweetness of hers. My blood surges with hope and lust. But before I can surrender fully to the heat of our kiss, she stops.

  “Work?” I ask, and she nods.

  “Give me a couple of hours,” she requests, “I’ll make a few arrangements, and we can take some days off—together.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want my help?”

  She shakes her head. “I don’t mix business and pleasure. We should keep it that way.”

  I check the date, eighteen days until our contract is over. Maybe I should wait until then to come clean about who I am.

  * * *

  Friday, May 27th, 6:47 p.m.

  As I park my car in front of Emmeline’s building, I notice she sent out a text.

  AWalk90: I’m logging off in a few. Do you need anything else?

  JSpear84: No, I’m good. Do you have a hot date?

  AWalk90: Not at all, I just have a few things to do with a friend.

  I’m a fucking friend? Friends don’t kiss the way we do. They don’t spend hours on your couch making out. Or stay up all night cuddling your pussy. And by pussy, I mean your needy cat who is an extortionist—guilt tripper extraordinaire. She’s squeezing every ounce of attention out of me while playing the injured kitty.

  But if I protest, Emmeline says, “she has you wrapped around her kitty paw. I already told you, leave her alone, but one squeak and you’re already carrying her.”

  JSpear84: Not your boyfriend?

  AWalk90: You are obsessed with this boyfriend I have. You need to stop mentioning him, or my husband is going to find out. He only lets me have one lover. My fiancé is the only one who knows about all these men.

  JSpear84: You’re not funny.

  AWalk90: Stop making up relationships.

  JSpear84: You’re going out with a friend.