He’s taking her for a walk?
I remain hidden in my bedroom. Frozen in place. I hear the sound of the door closing and feel the absence of Chewie. I remain squatting by the side of the bed. I’m not ready to face him.
I pull my phone out and text my brother.
Me: Are you around?
It’s Monday evening. Stranger things have happened.
Bobby: Yeah. About to order pizza. You want to come over?
Me: Y. Be there soon.
I find a small tote bag from the top of my closet and throw in some clothes. I’d rather crash at Bobby’s than be on high alert for the door unlocking and Jackson coming in.
I sit on the floor of my room, hidden by my bed. Like a kid hiding from her parents.
“Anna, where are you?”
I lift up on the floor and peer over the bed. “Bobby? Over here.”
“What’re you doing?”
“Hiding.”
“What’d you do now?”
“Nothing.”
He punches my leg.
“Ow. Stop it.”
“What’d you do?”
“Nothing. I went to the library.”
“And now you’re hiding?”
“Mom’s mad. I didn’t tell her where I was going.”
“Why not?”
“Because she’d find something else for me to do. Mom and Dad only want me to get married. It’s you they want to go to college. Haven’t you noticed?”
“They want you to go to college…and they want you to marry Evan. Can’t you do both?”
“Bobby! I want to go to college. I don’t want to marry Evan. Don’t I get a choice?”
“Of course, you do. They just think you want to marry him. Just tell them.”
Tell them. Yeah, that worked out well.
A long tongue licks my face. Chewie. Jackson must have let her back in while I was off in Memory Lane. I sit up on my knees and peer over the bed. The apartment’s empty.
I stand, grab my bag and Chewie’s leash, and head out to my brother’s apartment.
I buzz up, and the door unlocks. Bobby’s head comes into view as I climb the stairs to get to the third floor.
“Hey, Anna.” He pulls me into a bear hug the moment I reach his landing. He lifts the tote off my shoulder and asks, “You staying the night? Everything okay?”
“It’s fine.”
After we enter his apartment, he hands me a beer and a pizza slice. “Who’re you hiding from?”
I roll my eyes. “I’m not hiding from anyone. I worked all weekend and don’t have to work tomorrow, so figured I’d crash here tonight. Is that okay?”
He narrows his eyes, and a wrinkle forms between his eyebrows. “You can stay here anytime. But something’s up. You’re not fooling me.”
Given I can’t remember the last time I crashed at Bobby’s place, he’s not crazy to suspect something’s wrong. My phone vibrates. I have it set to mute.
“You not going to answer that?”
“No.”
“Anna. What. Is. Going. On?”
“Nothing.”
He punches my leg.
“Ow! Asshole.”
“Anna!”
I tilt my head back and stare at his whitish popcorn ceiling. “Fine. I was kind of seeing someone. My neighbor. He brought someone else home, and I saw her coming out of his apartment in the morning. I’m not ready to talk to him about it.”
“The guy you’ve been running with?”
“Yes.”
“Why do you think she was more than a friend?”
“Why do you always see the good in everyone? How many women friends do you have who sleep over?”
“Well, it would appear my sister and her dog are sleeping over tonight. And it might surprise you, but I have had out-of-town friends come to visit. Friends with tits. Who are just friends.”
I point my index finger at Bobby and aim it like I’m wielding a big stick. “I told you what’s wrong. I don’t want to think about it anymore. I’ll think about it tomorrow. Now, pick a movie.”
Chapter 23
Anna
“Chewbacca, my love, look at you. Out for an afternoon walk on a Wednesday!”
Al and Chewie greet each other in their normal way, ending with treat crumbs scattering Al’s button-down shirt.
“You love your walks, don’t you, girl? Such a good girl. Good, good girl. You’re the only girl who can get Mr. Hendricks to smile. Isn’t that right?” Al’s baby talk has Chewie doing the butt shake, wagging her tail like it’s a happy stick.
I roll my eyes. I know Al’s baiting me, but I’ll bite. “Jackson smiles when he takes her out for a walk?”
“They both do. Chewie loves your man.”
“Not my man, Al.” I snap my fingers to get Chewie’s attention and to signal it’s time to head upstairs. She falls in line like the well-trained dog she’s becoming. She does defy Jackson in some ways. Dirty paw marks grace the front of Al’s shirt, offering proof.
Al calls after me, “You sure about that, Anna girl?”
I press the elevator call button repeatedly. Al hovers nearby until the swish of the lobby door resonates. Then I hear his cheerful greeting echo through the lobby. “Good afternoon!”
Two yellow Post-it notes now adorn my bulletin board. The first one that stated “Call me” has a new friend that reads “Please call me. It’s not what you think.”
I wait until evening for Jackson to get home from work. I’m done hiding. I tap my knuckle lightly on his door. Heavy footfalls grow louder. The door opens, and bloodshot eyes stare back at me. His hair points in different directions, as if his hands have been running through it nonstop all day.
We stare at each other for a moment. Words escape me. I do have a speech prepared. He reaches out and pulls me against his chest, arms around me.
I plant both hands on his chest and push back hard, instantly creating distance.
“I saw the note on my door.”
“Did you listen to my messages?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I’ve been busy.” And I haven’t wanted to hear them.
“Do you know that was my sister you saw Saturday morning?”
“Your sister?” Holy shit. Bobby’s theory. I’ve been a freaking wreck over his sister.
His hand engulfs mine, and he tugs me out of the way so he can close the door. Still holding my hand, he leads me to his sofa. The city lights twinkle through the window behind him.
“Yeah, my sister. After you stood me up last minute, I asked Joanna—my sister—to come with me. She was in town visiting friends. Her friend only had a sofa, and I have a spare bed, so she decided to stay at my place.”
“Oh.” All those tears, all that anger. For nothing. He has dark circles under his eyes. Maybe he’s been upset too? Or he’s been working long hours. I want to rub my hand against his face, finger the rough stubble lining his jaw, but I lean back instead.
“Yeah. Oh.” He plays with my fingers. “Is she why you didn’t return my calls or texts? Were you angry?”
I lower my head. I’d been ready to let him have it. Tell him I don’t want anything to do with him. Only now, what does this mean? I don’t have any reason to be angry at him. No, actually, he should be angry at me. I’ve been acting like a jilted girlfriend.
Today, with his gray t-shirt on, his eyes are shaded blue, almost a gray-blue. “Joanna thought you were the one in the hall when she came out of my apartment Saturday morning. But we didn’t figure it out until Sunday. Have you been angry this whole time?”
“Yeah.” I take a calming breath, trying to sort out my circling thoughts and emotions. “But I had no right to be. We’re friends with benefits.” I stare at his socked feet, feeling ridiculous and a little shell-shocked. His sister. I’ve been a teary-eyed, emotional, fucking mess over nothing.
He sits straighter but continues to hold my hand. “Yeah, but we had an agreement to be exclusive.
You’d have every right to be angry if I had someone stay over. I’d probably break down your door if I thought you did.” His slightly upturned lips hold my attention. Is he amused?
I rub both hands over my face, absorbing this new information. “I came over here planning to let you have it. Tell you I didn’t want to see you again. And now, there’s no need. But then I think about how emotional I was. How much it hurt. And I guess maybe there is a need.”
He frowns. “What do you mean?”
“I’m getting too involved. My emotions are too intense. I need to take a step back from this. From us. I thought I could do this. Friends with extra. But I can’t.”
He brushes through my hair with his fingers, almost absentmindedly. My whole body tingles as I gaze at his hazel eyes, dark orbs in the dimly lit room. He leans forward and presses his lips to mine. Slow. Cautious. I open my mouth for him as he deepens the kiss and wraps his arms around me. Our kiss is tender to start. A kiss so intense that I never want it to end. God, I’ve missed him.
His hand caresses my neck then glides down to my chest. His thumb circles my nipple through my blouse. My nipples harden in response, and my core tightens, needy.
His fingers fumble with the tiny buttons on my shirt, and then, in frustration, he yanks, sending buttons flying everywhere. His mouth drops to my breast, and I hum as heat courses down and I squeeze my thighs together.
My body shivers in need. I want him. But I place a hand against his chest and push him back. He gives me a questioning look through hungry eyes. “We can’t do this. Jackson, I want to, but we can’t. I’m in too deep.” I need to end things now, or the pain when it does end will be unbearable. Tears fall from my eyes. What I won’t tell him, because I know he doesn’t want to hear it, is I’ve already fallen. To say it out loud, to tell him I love him, would make it real. Too real. And our friendship would be irrevocably shattered.
His hand coasts along my thigh. “One last time?” His hands toy with the hem of my mini-skirt. He shifts the skirt upward, and his hands finds my center. He rubs and circles. His gray-blue eyes find mine. He whispers, “Please.”
What would one more time hurt? Saying goodbye is going to hurt like hell anyway. I did try not to slip. I thought I could do this, told myself I could be strong, but the damage is done.
Just one more time together. One more time like this. One more time before we stop this and push ourselves back into the only friends zone, the safe zone.
I push him onto his back and straddle him. I press my center against his bulging erection and shift my hips, finding friction. He growls. I gaze into those mercurial eyes while tugging on his shirt. “One last time.”
Chapter 24
Jackson
“Hey, man, thanks for meeting me for dinner tonight.” I sink into the opposite side of the booth he’s claimed at Finn’s, our favorite neighborhood Irish bar.
“The legal eagle wants to grab dinner? How can I say no?” Chase asks. Judging by his half empty pint glass, he’s been here for at least ten minutes.
Thankfully, a waitress comes up and takes my order. It is out of the ordinary for me to ask him to meet for dinner on a weeknight. I don’t want to talk about anything serious or stressful, but I need to get out of the apartment building.
“How are you doing these days? Have you recovered from your breakup?” I ask, aiming to keep it light.
Chase raises his eyebrows, surprised at my question. Okay. Not as light as I want. Crap. My head’s so screwed up I’m violating Bro Code. “Yeah, Angela’s not talking to me. She’s pissed. Understandably, I guess. Her mom’s not talking to my mom. My mom’s pretty pissed at me. But, yeah, all good.”
“Oh, shit. I didn’t realize the moms were involved.”
He nods and drinks his beer. “Yep. Take it from me. Introducing the parents before you’re engaged is never a good idea.”
I laugh out loud. This is why I invited Chase out. Sometimes it’s nice to hang out with an old friend and hear about someone else’s problems. Chase makes me laugh.
“What are your plans for Thanksgiving?” he asks.
“Headed home. You?”
“My parents always host a dinner. Anna’s brother is working, but if he gets the chance, he may stop by. If you’re around, we’d love to have you. As long as my mom doesn’t exile me, that is.”
“Thanks, but I’ll be in Virginia. Where’s Anna spending Thanksgiving?”
“Prague. Remember? But last year, she and her brother joined my family for turkey. The invitation stands for both Bobby and Anna.” I nod as I absorb this new information. Her parents both passed away, so it all makes sense. She mentioned a while ago she was planning to visit her old roommate. I forgot she booked the trip over Thanksgiving.
Chase studies me as he drinks his beer. “Okay, dude. What’s going on there? Angela told me she suspected something was up with you guys.”
I shrug, aiming for nonchalance. “Nothing, man.”
“Bullshit.”
“We’ve spent a lot of time together. That’s it.”
“Yeah, you guys still running buddies? Every day?”
“Yeah, we were.” Anna told me she wouldn’t be doing that now. Not for a while. She needs time. It makes sense but still sucks. Best she figured it out now, though, before we couldn’t even be friends.
“Were?” He drinks his beer. “What did you do?”
I exhale with a loud blow. Who am I kidding? Talking about it is inevitable. “Well, we blurred lines and became more like friends with benefits.” I brace for his laughter, but he sits there, waiting for me to continue. “Anna wants to take a break. Says she’s getting too emotional.”
“Dammit, man. I told you not to hurt her.”
I snap back, defensive. “I didn’t hurt her. She’s the one who wants to take a step back, not me. Besides, even if I wanted a relationship, she doesn’t want one.”
He angles his head. “Do you want a relationship?”
I pause, weighing Chase’s question. I’m being ridiculous. There’s no reason to weigh anything. “Nah, man. I’ve told you. I can’t have a relationship. I’d suck at it. I work insane hours. You think Angela complained. Women hate dating me.”
He leans back, making room for the waitress to deposit our fish and chips dinners. After she rushes away to another table, he glances up while cutting his fish and pouring vinegar over it. “You keep saying you don’t want a relationship, but is that what you really want? These are some of the best years of your life. You want to spend all of them between an office and an empty apartment? You love contract law that much? M&A really that thrilling?” His tone is both incredulous and sarcastic.
I don’t say anything as I sit and stare at my food. He sounds like my sister. The last time I wanted a relationship was four years ago, and it was with Anna. But neither of us was willing to change our plans and give up the jobs we’d already lined up for a new relationship that started during the end of our last semester.
“How long were you two benefiting each other?”
I roll my eyes. His snide question annoys me to no end. He can be such an ass. “A couple of months?”
“And did your work suffer during that time?”
I rub my chin, reflecting on recent successes at work. I’m kicking ass. “No.”
He chugs his beer and looks at me like I’m a moron. There’s an awkward silence, and he raises his eyebrows.
“But we weren’t dating.”
“No? You ran together every day, right?”
“Yeah, before work.” And I’d make her coffee every morning too. Not gonna mention that.
“And how often did you guys get together after work? And on weekends?”
“Mmmm. A lot, I guess. If we got home in time, we’d order in together.” No reason to share if we got in late at night I still usually ended up at her place, at least until she’d kick me out.
“And weekends?”
“Usually one night she’d go out with her friends, one
night we’d stay in. Typical weekend.” I drink my beer, eyeing him with suspicion. I can see where he’s going with his line of questioning. Despite all appearances, I’m not a moron. My chest hurts so damn bad. The fish and chips are greasy and unappetizing. I push the plate away.
“You dumbnut. No matter what label you gave it, you were dating. How the hell do you think that’s any different than dating?” He pauses to shove a few fries in his mouth. “Were you dating other people?”
“No. We agreed we’d be…” I trail off before saying exclusive, because if I say that out loud, I’ll sound like the world’s biggest dumbass.
“You’d be?”
He’s not going to let it go. I huff. “We weren’t seeing other people.”
He drinks his beer and slams it down on the table. “You fucktard. You were dating her! Did you ever tell her you’d be open to a relationship?”
“No. You aren’t hearing me. She doesn’t want a relationship. Yes, we’ve been close for a while, but the first time I stayed over the whole night, she freaked out. She canceled on me the next day for a work function I needed her at.” Of course, it’s possible work had forced her to cancel. I’d never pressed her on that. Never discussed it because the next discussion we had, she was telling me she was too emotional. Kind of pointless to talk more about that fucking day.
“You mean she canceled this past weekend? This past weekend when she had to work nonstop? Anna told me all about work. Insane, if you ask me. At the office until, like, two o’clock in the morning on a Friday night…well, Saturday morning.” Annoyance radiates off him as he grips his pint. “She told you she needed time away because she’s getting too emotional. Sounds to me like Anna fell for you, and she’s asking for distance because you don’t want a relationship.”
“Well, I don’t want a relationship.”
“Fucktard. You are a fucktard!” He points his index finger at me. “Throw away your life. I just hope whenever you reach that magical day when you decide you can have a life, you find someone half as cool and awesome as Anna. In the meantime, if this is the way you are going to fucking play it, you stay the hell away from her.”
When The Stars Align Page 15
