by Lauren Runow
I walk into the living room, expecting Charlie to be sitting on the floor. Instead, he’s on the couch, curled into Bryce’s side. Bryce has his arm along the back of the couch as the two watch aliens on a spaceship talk about taking over the world. Since I only have one couch, I take a seat on the other side of Charlie. I cross my legs away from them and take a sip of wine.
There’s a faint tapping on my shoulder. I look over to Bryce, who is staring at me with downturned eyes and a tiny rise on the side of his mouth. Looking at him, with the sorrowful expression on his face and my son by his side, gives me a feeling I’ve never felt before. It’s a mixture of being petrified and satisfied, all in one.
I uncross my legs and lean in toward them. I run my fingers through Charlie’s hair and look at his smiling face as he watches the show that’s practically an antique compared to the movies that are out today. When I look back up at Bryce, he is still staring at me. This time, it’s with a glassy-eyed expression as he takes a deep breath that fills his chest.
He is completely at peace in this moment.
When the show is over, I grab the remote and turn the television off. “Time for little boys to go to bed.”
“Ah, Mom. Really?” Charlie whines.
“Be happy I let you stay up this late. Go in and get brushed. I’ll be right there to tuck you in.”
He slowly gets up, dragging his feet. When he gets a few steps away, he stops and turns, running back to give Bryce a hug. “Good night,” he says, making my heart swell twice its size.
“Night, little man.” His eyes close as he returns the hug.
I turn and catch my breath.
I walk Charlie back to bed. I hear the television turn on in the living room, followed by the opening credits to the Mighty Morphin Power Rangers. Bryce sounds like he’s making himself comfortable. Looks like, this time, he’s not going to disappear on me.
17
BRYCE
As the video plays, my mind is anywhere but on the show. I’ve never had to answer to someone for my whereabouts. I’m usually the one demanding answers for tardiness and accountability.
Hell, that’s part of my daily itinerary with Austin.
Tonight, I was going to ask Tessa to go away with me. Maybe now isn’t the time to ask. I don’t know how she’ll react.
The closing credits to the episode start to roll before I even realize the entire episode is over. I’ve been lost in my own thoughts. I also didn’t realize Tessa had come back from Charlie’s room. She’s standing at the edge where the hallway meets where I’m seated. Her arms are crossed, and she’s looking down at me as she gnaws at her lip.
“I’m sorry I was late,” I start the conversation.
“I know you are.” She’s still standing there with a sullen expression.
“Then, why don’t you look like you forgive me?”
Looking up, she sighs with a rise of her shoulders. “Because I don’t want to change who you are.”
I open my legs wider as I lean forward and scratch my chin. “I don’t understand.”
Tessa pushes off the wall and takes a step forward. “I have a five-year-old son. He has a schedule and a bedtime. It’s not because I’m a stickler for rules. It’s because it’s the only way I can be a single mom and not go crazy. This is the second time he’s stayed up late because of you. Last week, I had a terrible time with getting him up, and I was late for work.”
I stand from the couch. “I’ll keep that in mind in the future. I’m not used to this.”
“It’s not just the time thing, Bryce. We need reliability. We need someone who is going to be somewhere when they say they will.”
“You’re right. I won’t make a promise that I can’t keep.”
I walk toward her, but she looks away.
“That’s an impossible task. You run a media company. You have hundreds of people who work for you. I can’t imagine how difficult your job is. Running late is expected. I can’t ask you to change who you are and what you do for me.”
Me.
She’s never referred to herself like that when it comes to our relationship. She said she didn’t have time in her life for a relationship, and then she said it was all about Charlie. For the first time, I’m getting the sense that there is more to Tessa’s insecurities than time and not wanting me to know about her son.
I take a moment and let time stop.
Standing before me is a woman. Her long, flowing dark hair is a stark contrast against her pale skin, flawless and pink on the cheeks. Her violet eyes are the most striking things I’ve ever seen, yet they’re not her prettiest feature.
Some days, I think it’s her mouth, so pouty and full. Other moments, it’s her chin that rises whenever she thinks she’s being challenged. Or other times, it’s her hands, so soft and delicate. She draws attention when she wrings them together when she’s nervous. Like she’s doing right now.
Today, however, it’s not her eyes or lips or hands that are her prettiest feature. Right now, it’s her vulnerability. The way she wears her heart on her sleeve. Her emotions are so raw and rare; it makes me want to hold on to her for eternity and never let go.
Yet still, as beautiful as she is on the inside and out, she has no idea. Years ago, a man she loved turned his back on her. I remember how I felt after being deserted when my mother died. I can’t imagine how Tessa must have felt, being pregnant and alone. It takes a terrible man to desert such a woman, let alone one who is carrying his child.
That’s why she’s standing here, looking at me like she’s positively frightened of how hard her heart might break if this all ends badly.
There are so many things I want to tell Tessa. I choose the one that is the most honest for this moment.
Instead of walking to her like I want, I bend down to the coffee table and pick up the DVD case. I hold it in the palm of my hand. “I bought this years ago on a whim when I saw it in the store. At the time, I thought it would be awesome to share it with my own kids if I had them one day. That was before I ever thought there’d be Netflix or Amazon Prime.” I laugh lightly. “Tonight is the first time I’ve watched it. One of the reasons I was late is because I sat in the car to take off the plastic wrap. I forgot how hard it was to break into one of these.” I look up at her and her gorgeous downturned eyes. “I didn’t want you to know that it wasn’t opened. Because then maybe you’d find out what this really meant to me.”
She takes a deep breath and shakily releases it. “What does it mean?”
“Family.” I drop the case on the table and open my arms to the sides.
Her body tilts away from me. “We can’t be a filler for the family you’re lacking, Bryce. This isn’t a place where you can play house for a while.”
I walk toward her and explain, “It’s not just Charlie, Tessa. It’s you. I’m crazy about you. So crazy that it’s making me rethink things. Rethink my priorities, the way I live my life.”
She turns to me, and our eyes lock for a few breaths. I want so bad to kiss her, but I don’t know where her head is at right now.
“I don’t want you to rethink your life. Not for me.”
“When are you going to realize that you’re worth changing for?”
Her eyes widen, and her mouth parts. There’s a slight glaze to her expression. Her hand rises up to her chest and runs up her neck. I walk closer and snake my hands along her waist.
My forehead leans against hers as I explain, “I’m learning as I go here. Please have patience with me.”
Her eyes close, and I pray she’s considering my apology.
“Promise you won’t break our hearts,” she whispers.
I pull her in closer, hugging her tight to my chest. “I promise.”
Her hands rise up to my back, and I sigh in relief at the warm feeling of her skin against my shirt.
“Have you thought about Legoland some more?” I ask, approaching the subject with caution.
She grumbles into my chest, “That’s a rand
om question.”
I kiss the top of her head. “It’s not. Answer me, and I’ll explain.”
“My mom says I should let him go, which is shocking. She’s not a huge fan of him spending time with them, but—” She stops, and her body tenses.
“But … what do you think?” I lean back and look down at her, wondering what just went through her mind.
She bites her inner lip as she thinks. “I guess I’m going to let him go,” she says with trepidation.
“I think that’s a good idea. He’ll love it.”
“I know,” she says, but I can tell she’s still torn.
“You know what else I think?”
“What?”
“I think we should go to Tahoe while he’s gone.”
If I thought her eyes were wide before, then they’re bugged out right now.
“He’s supposed to leave in two days.”
“I know.”
“You were late tonight because you had work to do. How on earth are you planning on getting away for a few days? Actually, forget about you. I have work. I can’t call out because I want to rendezvous with my boyfriend.”
Here it is. The part where she’ll either be happy or pissed at me for overstepping boundaries. “What would you say if I took care of that, and you could go?”
Her head snaps up to meet mine. “You what?”
I can’t tell if her reaction is good or bad. “I got you the time off.”
“How?” Her face scrunches in disbelief. It’s also the look she gives Charlie when he’s done something he’s not supposed to do.
“I called your job and scheduled myself in every appointment you had for the days I want to take you away.”
She’s not blinking. She’s just staring, wild-eyed at me.
If this were Power Rangers, I’d think she was frozen by my powers. Unfortunately, this isn’t a television show.
The silence is deafening. I want to say something, but I’m afraid, if I say any more, she’ll just get upset.
That is … until she laughs. Literally laughs. It’s small at first and morphs into a belly laugh that has her holding her hand over her mouth because she doesn’t want to wake up Charlie.
“You did what?” she says into her palm.
“I might have thrown in a feature in our Sunday bridal section.” I squint my eyes, completely unsure if this reaction of hers is good or bad.
“And Emmanuel said okay?”
“He did,” I say, standing up a little straighter.
“You did all of that just to go away with me?”
I shrug. “You’re worth it.”
Her lips close, and that smile that was on her face falls. In its place is an angry pout as her eyes draw closer together. Her arm swings out, and she hits me in the bicep.
“Goddamn you, Bryce Sexton,” she yells at me. It’s not a loud yell, but it’s forceful. “You are either the most romantic man I’ve ever met or the stupidest.”
“Can I choose romantic?” I ask, which causes her to growl and walk away, back toward the kitchen.
She sees her wine glass on the counter and takes a large swig. When she puts it down, she turns to me with a pointed finger. “I moved to San Francisco for that job. It’s not just something that pays the bills; it’s my career. I have been busting my ass, trying to score clients and prove myself, not so some rich mogul can swoop in and pay my way like some chippie. We’ve had two kisses. Two, and yes, they were the best kisses of my entire life, but it doesn’t warrant you calling my boss and messing with my job. I bet he fires me as soon as I get back.”
“I’d never let him.”
“It’s not your right to say that.”
“I have every right. You’re mine, Tessa. My girl. If I want to whisk you off for a few days, then fuck it, I’m gonna do it. You know, if you weren’t so damn stubborn, I wouldn’t have to go behind your back and make this happen. If you’d just trust me, you’d let yourself fall for me. I have never done anything like this before. I’ve never felt like this for anyone before. Yes, I’ve had relationships, but this—you—are different. I’ll say it every day for the rest of our lives if I have to. I want you. Only you. Now, are you going to forgive me about being late and paying a ridiculous amount of money to make sure you don’t lose your job, so I can take you on a romantic vacation—which, by the way, is the first time I’ve taken a day off in ten years—or are you going to find one more reason to shut me out of your life?”
She sits there, not saying a word, and stares at me with no expression at all.
“Please tell me what you’re thinking about right now,” I plead.
She’s frowning as she takes a gulp of wine. “I’m wondering what I should pack.”
18
TESSA
I cried. Okay, I’ll admit it; I bawled as Charlie drove away with his grandparents to go to Legoland.
The look on his face melted my heart, and when he grabbed my leg, hugging me so tightly, thanking me for letting him go, I thought I’d be okay. But I wasn’t.
I stood on the sidewalk and watched the car drive down the road. I didn’t go inside until I couldn’t see them anymore.
When there’s a knock at the door an hour later, everything snaps back into place.
Tahoe.
Bryce.
Oh my goodness, I probably look like an absolute mess.
“You look like an absolute mess,” Abby says as I open my door, swinging a shopping bag in her hand as she waltzes into my apartment.
“Hello to you, too.” I close the door and walk over to the kitchen table where she places the bag. I motion toward that. “Whatcha got there?”
“Tahoe supplies!” she says with a devilish grin.
I raise a brow. “What kind of supplies?”
With waggling eyebrows, Abby opens the white paper shopping bag and pulls out a lump of tissue paper.
Hesitantly, I take the bundle from her and open it.
Oh, dear heavens, what has she done?
I unwrap the tissue paper to pull on the string of a silk lavender nightie with lace trim and a slit on the side. It’s sexy yet elegant and way more than I was prepared to bring with me on my weekend away with Bryce.
“What is this?” I ask.
“It’s a burka,” she answers sarcastically.
With a sideways glance, I ask, “I mean, what am I supposed to do with this?”
“I believe what you mean to say is, Thank you, Abby, for this beautiful piece of lingerie that I can bring on my romantic weekend away with the man of my dreams!” Her hands are now curled under her chin as she bats her eyelashes.
I take a piece of tissue paper, crumple it up, and throw it at her. “What makes you assume I don’t have something sexy packed in my bag already?”
She catches the paper in the air. “Do you?” she challenges, throwing it back at me.
The paper hits me in the forehead. “Well, not like that, but I did pack my Victoria’s Secret pajamas.”
“They’re long-sleeved and knit, and they look like Hugh Hefner’s pajamas.”
“I like my Hugh Hefner jammies,” I defend.
“They’re adorable. But this”—she points toward the nightie—“is what you wear when a gorgeous millionaire takes you away to his house in the hills.”
My stomach rumbles, and it’s not because I’m hungry. “I’m a nervous wreck. I haven’t dated anyone in years, let alone gone away on a romantic trip. Bryce and I have only kissed. He’s going to expect to … you know …”
“I know,” she says and walks over to my refrigerator where she grabs a bottle of water. She’s twisting the top off as she asks, “What are you so worried about?”
“Everything,” I reply. Putting the nightie on the table, I take a seat and curl my leg up into me. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had sex. I’ve had a baby since then. What if things aren’t … the same down there?”
She makes a face. “I can’t help you with that, but I can tell you that n
othing has changed since you were eighteen. Men still want sex, and they pretty much don’t care what position or who goes down on who first.”
“That’s comforting.” I roll my eyes.
I lay my hand on the nightie again. It’s so smooth; I imagine what it will feel like on my skin. What Bryce’s hands running up against it will feel like, that warm flesh pushing into the silky material.
And, now, I’m warm.
Abby takes a seat across the table and lays an arm on it, outstretched toward me. “This is a big step for you. We’ve only been friends for a few months, and I know you don’t open your heart up easily.”
“I’m still having a hard time not picturing him with Christine.”
“Do you believe him when he tells his version of what happened?”
Bryce has explained it on more than one occasion that, while Christine came on to him and he was very tempted, he stopped the act before anything really happened. Just the notion of it makes my head spin. But I can’t change the past. Lord knows there are other women he’s been with that I don’t know about. What I do know is that he has gone above and beyond to prove himself to me. The time we’ve spent together has been special.
“I do.” I nod my head.
Abby smiles. Her head of brown curls bobbing as she gets up and walks to the bag. “My only advice is to just have fun.”
She holds the bag out to me, and I rise, too, to look inside. There are more things in there. I start pulling them out—a new razor, shaving cream, a body exfoliator, oil, lotion, paraffin for my feet, and a bath bomb.
“I’m gonna have the softest skin on the West Coast.” I beam.
“Again, I believe the words you meant to say are, Thank you, Abby, for getting me everything I need to be primed and ready should I decide to go to bed with a man for the first time in six years.”
I can’t contain my grin as I say, “Thank you, Abby.”
When she leaves, I take all of my new products and head into my bathroom to prepare for four days away with Bryce.
