by Love, Kristy
I was met with silence. I spent the rest of Friday in my hotel room, continuing to recover. Over the weekend, I went out and grabbed some coffee before holing up in my hotel room some more. I didn’t want to deal with the outside world. I wanted to clear my head and wait for Bianca to contact me. I needed her to contact me.
She didn’t call or text. There was nothing but radio silence. On Monday, I hoped she’d be there. It was the day we were taste testing cakes, and I needed to see her. I wondered what she’d do. What if she blew me off? There was no way she’d do that, right?
On Monday, I strolled into the cake shop. No Bianca in sight. In fact, there was no one. I went to the front counter and rapped my knuckles against the counter as I looked for any signs of life. A few minutes later, Bianca walked out from the back, followed by a short, pudgy woman with wild curly hair.
“Mr. James,” Bianca said, her eyes falling on my chin. “Chrissy prepared some cakes for you to test. Vivienne instructed certain ones that she’s interested in you trying, so we’ll pay special attention to those.” She went over to a table and took a seat, setting her ever-present binder in front of her. She hadn’t given me a chance to say anything, not that I could with Chrissy right there.
Then the torture began. Pieces of cakes were shoved in front of me, and I was told all about them, details that went in one ear and out the other. The cakes were delicious, but I wasn’t interested in them. I wanted to talk to Bianca. I wanted her to give me some hint that my drunken memories were true. Instead, I got steely silence. Chrissy led the meeting, making it so Bianca didn’t have to say a damned word.
“Is there one in particular you like, Mr. James?” Bianca asked, flipping through her planner.
“I like the traditional one.” I pointed at it with my fork.
Bianca consulted her notes. “Vivienne was interested in the chocolate with raspberry filling. What did you think of that one?”
“It was good, but it was too rich.”
She jotted something down. “So, you like traditional. Almond flavoring with the butter cream?” The way she avoided looking at me at all caused anger to roll through me.
“Yes.”
“That’s our most popular cake,” Chrissy interjected. “It’s light and not too decadent after having a heavy meal. I think it’s an excellent choice.” She smiled at me.
I tapped my fork against my plate and regarded Bianca. Her back was ramrod straight, and her shoulders were squared. “What did you think, Bianca?” I asked her, knowing she hadn’t tried a single bite of any cake.
“I’m sure they’re all great.”
“But which do you think would be better? Chocolate or the traditional?” I’d prod her into a response if I had to.
She sighed and finally looked at me. All the vulnerability that my memory told me was in her eyes had vanished. Instead, the impenetrable wall was back. “Whichever you would prefer to have as your wedding cake. I’m sure any of them would be wonderful.”
I got a bit of the chocolate cake onto my fork and held it up to her mouth, daring her to refuse me. She pressed her lips into a flat line, clearly unhappy. If she refused this, Chrissy would be offended and that wouldn’t be a good professional move for Bianca. If she took this bite, she’d be giving into me. She was stuck in a lose-lose situation. Her full lips parted, and she took the offered cake. She chewed slowly, keeping her gaze glued to mine. “That’s really good.”
I thought that’d be the end of it, but she opened her mouth and quirked an eyebrow, daring me to stop this before her. I hurriedly got the traditional cake on my fork and gave it to her. She chewed again, her throat muscles working with a swallow. I wanted to press my lips against them and feel them move under her skin. “You’re right, Mr. James. I think the traditional cake is a much better option.”
It felt like a victory, though I wasn’t sure what I’d won. The air was heavy and charged around us. We were locked in our own stare down, unspeakable words passing between us. I knew, at that moment, she’d been ready to kiss me on Thursday night. I cursed my drunken self for ruining that perfect opportunity. I licked my lips, wanting to feel hers against mine.
After some more questions, the meeting wrapped up. “I’d like a moment with my client, Chrissy. Is it okay if we stay in the shop for a bit before we head out? I don’t want to cause you any issues.”
“You’re fine,” Chrissy said. “We don’t open for business for another forty-five minutes. Take your time.” She turned to me. “It was lovely to meet you, Mr. James. I’m a huge fan, and it is an honor that you’d trust us to make your wedding cake.”
Guilt washed through me. I’d openly flirted with Bianca while tasting cake for my wedding to someone else. I hadn’t even thought of Viv unless someone else mentioned her. “Thank you so much. I appreciate meeting a fan, always.” I signed a piece of paper for her and she went into the back, leaving me alone with Bianca.
“About Thursday,” I said. I needed to get this out there. The tension between us was palpable.
She held up her hands. “Let me apologize. I was unprofessional. You are getting married, and I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you in such a vulnerable state.”
A slow grin spread across my face. “You took advantage of me. Do tell. As many details as possible.” I leaned forward, resting my elbow on the table, my chin in my hand.
She groaned. “The fact that you don’t remember makes this so much worse.”
I slid my chair closer to her until our knees were pressed together. That small contact shot heat straight up my leg until it turned into arousal. “I remember enough. Touching you. Kissing your face. You with your palm against my chest.”
Her eyes flew to mine, widening. She blinked rapidly. “I didn’t think you’d remember all that.”
“It’s all I can think about. I play it over and over in my mind.”
She bit her plump bottom lip. “It was wrong.”
I rested my palm against her thigh, and her entire body jolted. “It was the rightest thing I’ve done in years.”
Her eyes came to mine, regarding me silently. Viv hung in the air around us, the unspoken entity. My gut knew I needed to make a decision and that I was tearing everyone apart, myself included. It was hard to decide to hurt someone, though it was clear to me who I’d pick. There’d only ever really been one option.
“Can I ask you a question?” she asked, her voice quiet, dropping all discussion about Viv.
“Yes.”
“Why’d you keep the guitar pick?” Her eyes blazed into mine. I knew whatever answer I’d give her was important. I could answer this very right or very wrong, depending on what I wanted the outcome to be.
I rested my free hand against my chest, where I knew the necklace was. “Because you gave it to me. I wanted to keep you near me, even when you weren’t around.”
She nodded slowly, her eyes getting a faraway look like she was thinking about something. “We still can’t do this. You’re engaged. I’m planning the wedding. It’s not right.”
“I want—”
“I can’t be the other woman, Mr. James. I can’t. It wouldn’t be fair to Vivienne, or me,” she said, cutting me off.
I hated that she was right, but of course, she was. I wanted to say something, anything, to get her to stay with me. “What if she was out of the picture?”
She shook her head. “But she isn’t out of the picture, is she?” She stood, gathering her stuff. “Goodbye, Mr. James.”
She left. It seemed she was always leaving. I sat there for a long time, thinking. I was honest enough with myself that I knew this wedding was a mistake. I loved Viv, but my feelings for her paled in comparison to what I felt for Bianca. Maybe it was time to take a chance. Would Bianca want me if I wasn’t with Viv? Or was she rejecting me because she really didn’t want me? The look in her eyes the other night was one that was clearly desire. She wanted me just as badly as I wanted her.
If I was honest with myself, I was scared.
I was scared that she wouldn’t want me. There was no way she’d see me alone, so I needed to figure out how to get a chance to talk to her. A clear decision was made, forming in my mind. A sense of peacefulness settled over me. A heart would be broken, but it needed to be done. I couldn’t live this half lie anymore.
Felix was coming back into town today after spending time in California. Checking the time, I realized he was probably at the airport, so I called him.
“‘Sup?” Felix answered.
“Would you be willing to help me out?” I asked. We didn’t need all the bullshit filler. We got right down to business.
“Anything. What do you need?” He was serious now, listening intently.
“I need you to contact Peyton and organize a dinner for all of us to get together. But I don’t want Bianca to know that I’m going to be there.” After I’d given Bianca his number, he and Peyton had talked. They worked out their issues and seemed to be getting along great. Maybe things weren’t as good as they once were. But they were better.
“That’s some shady shit, Nash. I don’t know if I’m down with that.”
“Please, just help me out. I need to talk to her, and she won’t listen.”
He chuckled. “You really think cornering her will make her listen?”
“I have to try.”
Maybe the desperation in my voice conveyed how much I needed this. I didn’t care because I did need this. “Okay. I’ll see what I can do. But, Nash?”
“Yeah?”
“If you break her again, I’ll break you. You’re my best friend in the entire world, but it’s clear you destroyed her last time. If you push her all this way only to hurt her, we won’t be cool.”
I smiled. I loved that Felix was still protective of Bianca all these years later. “I’m not going to break her.”
“Got it. I’m about to board. Talk to you when I land.”
“Thanks, man.”
“I got you.”
We hung up, and for the first time in years, I had hope.
Chapter 23
Bianca
I walked to my car after a date with Ethan. It was totally nice and totally boring. I didn’t feel for him even a fraction of what I felt from a simple glance from Nash. I didn’t know what to do. I needed to move on with my life, I couldn’t keep holding onto this flame for a man who was set to be married, but I couldn’t seem to extinguish it. No amount of trying worked.
My heart was a giant bruise. Everything hurt. Moving, thinking, feeling, breathing. I couldn’t figure out how to stop these warring feelings or stop remembering that night in Nash’s hotel room.
At home, I curled up with a glass of wine and trashy reality TV. I wasn’t particularly invested in the show, but I needed background noise. I wondered what Nash was doing tonight. Was he talking to Vivienne? Excited about his wedding?
Did he think about me?
Sometime later, Peyton came home. “Hey, bitch! I’m home!” she called from the front door. “Have I got some news for you!”
I turned toward her as she walked over and plopped onto the couch next to me, stealing the wineglass from my hand and draining the rest of it. “What? And why do you always have to finish my wine?”
“Because it’s already poured and so yummy.” She licked her lips and smiled. “We’re going out on Friday.”
I groaned. Sometimes Peyton set me up with people she met at the hospital, and it usually went this way. “Can I remind you of Ethan?” Saying his name felt like a betrayal.
She rolled her eyes. “He’s irrelevant, but this is with Felix. He’s finally back in town, and he wanted to see us.”
I looked at her out of the corner of my eye, weighing how much trouble I’d get in if I hit her with something. “I’m not going out to dinner with Nash, Peyt.”
She scoffed, feigning offense. “Did I say his name? No. I said Felix. As in, the three of us. As in, you’re going on Friday and don’t fucking complain about it.”
“Fine.” I got another glass of wine, plus one for her, and rejoined her on the couch. We watched TV. Well, she watched, and I thought about Nash. After one show ended and another began, I needed to say what had been circling around my mind. “Why can’t I stop loving him?” I asked, my voice soft, tears hiding behind it.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Probably because he’s your soul mate. I never believed in that shit—I still don’t, really. But you two? You’re fire and electricity. The whole room feels like it’s going to go up in flame when you’re both there.”
“All I want is to stop loving him and for it to stop hurting.” I sighed. “Why can’t I forget about him and let him go?”
Her hand rested on my leg, comforting me. “He was your first love. I don’t think we ever forget our first love.”
I didn’t respond for long moments. “Did you know that nine years ago today was the night that Nash and I spent together?” I said the words quietly, so quietly I wondered if she even heard me.
“Oh, Bianca.” She hugged me. “I’m so sorry.”
“I need to let him go, Peyton. How do I do it? How do I let go of the other half of my soul?”
She didn’t answer, though I didn’t think there was an answer. I’d been trying to for so long. If there’d been a way, I’d have found it by now.
* * *
“Are you sure this is okay?” I asked as Peyton pulled my car into a parking space. She didn’t own a car since the hospital was so close to our apartment, so she was driving mine. I’d been fretting over my outfit since I’d put it on. Peyton practically shoved the dress on me, telling me I was wearing it, end of discussion. It felt too sexy for dinner with one of our friends. When I’d argued with Peyton, she told me to wear it and shut up. My legs and cleavage were definitely on display in the little black dress.
“It’s a little too late for you to change, don’t you think?” She turned the car off and climbed out. I scrambled out after her. She was wearing much more appropriate attire. It was a purple dress, though not nearly as formal as mine. I felt overdressed and slightly ridiculous.
“I don’t want to give the wrong impression.”
“Life is too short to worry about that.” She stepped inside and up to the hostess waiting. “Hi, we’re meeting Felix.”
“Right this way,” the hostess said, hurrying ahead of us.
It was definitely too late for me to change. I fought the urge to tug the top of my dress up to cover my chest. Before we entered what seemed to be a private room, Peyton grabbed my hand. I glanced at her, growing suspicious. She squeezed my hand and smiled, pushing through the doors, and following the hostess.
As soon as I entered the room, my eyes found him, drinking him in like my favorite wine. Nash was at the table, his hand wrapped around a glass of water. My legs and heart stopped. Every time I saw him, it was like the first time all over again. It was hard to breathe, and my heart didn’t want to work properly. My knees were weak, and heat rose in my cheeks. I wanted to yell at Peyton for lying to me because it was damned evident that she had some part in this, but I couldn’t tear my gaze away from him and his lopsided smile. His eyes traversed the length of my body as his smile widened.
“Felix, it’s nice to see you,” Peyton said, letting go of my hand and going to him to hug him. “And Nash.” She hugged him as well. I was rooted to the spot, unable to move my legs or eyes.
Eventually, I unstuck myself and walked over to the table. “Hey guys,” I said, though it sounded weak even to myself.
“Nice dress, Bianca,” Felix said as he pulled me into a hug. “Thanks for agreeing to meet with us.”
I raised an eyebrow—clearly. he was in on the whole plan as well. “I didn’t agree to meet with any us.”
He smiled and rubbed the back of his neck, clearly knowing he was caught.
“It was my fault.” Nash’s throat bobbed with a swallow. I thought he’d go back around the table, but he moved closer to me slowly, his eyes dancing over me from head to toe a
gain. Then he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me against him. I gasped, unable to process the fact that so much of his body was touching me at once. One of his hands slid down to my lower back, and my whole body flushed. I needed to fan myself. I hugged him, though I didn’t grip him as tightly as he held me. “You look beautiful,” he whispered into my ear, the heat of his breath tickling my ear. His lips pressed against my temple briefly before he pulled away. Memories of his hotel room flooded my mind, causing the heat in my cheeks to flame brighter. He cleared his throat and went back to his seat as I stood there, dazed.
I blinked a few times before going to my seat, my knees not wanting to support me. Nash kept his eyes averted, studying the menu. No one mentioned what had just happened, though I felt the planes of his body against mine still. His body was solid, more muscular than it had been before. My entire body felt like it was on fire. I grabbed my water and sipped it, hoping to cool myself off a little. Peyton and Felix were talking animatedly, but I couldn’t focus on their words.
Nash glanced at me briefly before clearing his throat and going back to his menu. His fingers tapped an uneven beat against the tabletop. I fought the urge to press my glass against my flushed cheeks.
“How were your promo meetings?” I asked when I’d finally found my voice. Felix had been taking over since Nash had spent so much time in Pittsburgh.
“Good. It was mostly meetings about the new album. They wanted us in the studio now, but Nash wanted some time off.”
“You didn’t?” Peyton peaked over her menu at him.
“I did. We’ve been nonstop for a long time. It’ll be nice to catch our breath.” Felix held his beer and tipped it toward Peyton.
“We need time to recharge our creativity,” Nash said to the table in front of him.
“I’m sure it’s hard to constantly be performing and recording.” I tried to extend an olive branch to make this less painful. The awkwardness between Nash and me bled to the rest of the group, making the conversation feel forced and uncomfortable.
