When The Stars Align

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When The Stars Align Page 18

by Jolie, Isabel


  I sob. “I know. But the thing is, saying no destroyed my relationship with Mom and Dad. They never forgave me. They never understood.” I jam a tissue against my nose to blot the steady stream of snot and tears.

  “Anna, there was nothing to forgive. Your life. Your choices.” He pauses then continues. “Have you ever thought about what would’ve happened if you had married Evan? Because here’s the scenario that plays through my mind. You’d marry him. Drop out of college. Have a kid. At some point, you’d get a divorce. You still would’ve had issues with Mom and Dad. Either from their over-involvement in your marriage or blaming you for your failed marriage.”

  Silence. His words bang around in my head. Deep down, I know he’s right. Our parents were best friends. From the time I could crawl, they’d been pushing Evan and me together. And I always wanted to please my parents. Make them happy. But, in the end, I chose me. My life. My choice.

  “Anna, you still there?”

  “Yeah. Thanks. Ah, when did you hear Evan’s getting divorced?”

  “A while ago. He got caught cheating.” Rumors had flown in high school and college that he was hooking up with random girls. I never gave them credence. But it could explain why he was so controlling and possessive of me. Never wanted me to go out with friends. He couldn’t trust me if he couldn’t control himself.

  “And, last point, little sis. You are a beautiful person. One day, a good guy is going to see all you are and love you with everything he has. If it’s not Jackson, then it’ll be another guy.”

  * * *

  For my last night in Prague, Olivia made reservations for us at Restaurant Mlynic on the Vltava river. The lights from ships glitter along the waterway. The streetlamps cast a golden glow and amplify the storybook aesthetic. Inside the restaurant, the contemporary lighting and design contrast with the view outside. The blending of historical with contemporary yields an alluring atmosphere.

  The restaurant boasts three terraces overlooking the river. Tables line the windows. Boats carry tourists up and down the river below the stunning European architecture.

  Olivia flips through a leather book filled with hundreds of wines, while I stare out the window at the boat lights floating along the river. “Hello, daydreamer. What’s going on in that mind of yours?” Olivia asks after our waiter takes our order.

  My patient friend sits. Expectant. The waiter pours a red French wine I don’t recognize. Olivia swirls the dark liquid in the glass, smells it, sips, and nods her approval. The waiter fills our glasses.

  Olivia lifts her glass to toast. “Here’s to us both finding our way.”

  Our glasses clink, and we savor the wine.

  “Jackson’s picking me up from the airport. He texted me today. He’s also taking care of Chewie right now.”

  “I thought Bobby had your dog.”

  “Word on the street is she’s been a bad dog.”

  Olivia laughs. “And Mr. I-Don’t-Want-a-Relationship swooped in to save the day?”

  I bite my lip. “Something like that.”

  “And he’s picking you up from the airport?” A knowing grin spreads across Olivia’s face, and I can’t suppress my smile. I get what she’s insinuating.

  I exhale loudly and sip my wine. “He says he wants to talk.” I don’t add that Bobby believes he’s in love with me. That’s a bit of an over-the-top theory. One I can’t bear to say out loud. Too risky.

  Olivia raises her eyebrows. With a dose of dramatic flair, she asks, “So, when he tells you he wants to date, and he should have never let you walk out the door, what are you going to say?”

  I sip my wine. Watch the light reflect on the dark maroon liquid. “I’m scared. I don’t like me in a relationship.”

  Olivia points her index finger at my face. “Here’s the thing. At different points in our lives, we are different people. You were a kid in your last relationship.”

  I open my mouth to disagree, but she stabs her finger in the air to hush me.

  “No! Let me finish. From age seventeen to twenty is a kid. A big kid, yes, but significantly different than the woman you are now. You moved to a city on your own. You are the youngest creative director at your agency. You are successful in your own right. You are not the same kid dependent on her parents and trying to please them. You are a different person now.”

  I drink more wine. She’s right. Knowing she’s right doesn’t make trusting myself any easier.

  “You aren’t going to know what kind of person you will be in the next relationship. I’d bet who you are with Jackson this year will be a totally different person with someone else next year.”

  “Someone else?” I can’t fathom being with any other man.

  A mischievous smile flits across her face. “Yeah, like, what if you and Chase start dating?”

  “Chase and I are just friends.” She kind of laughs, and so do I. She’s friends with him too, and she understands. I might have been lying to myself about Jackson. But Chase falls squarely in the friend zone.

  “My point is, a relationship requires two people. Sometimes the other person helps us to be a better person. Sometimes the other person can have a toxic, poisonous effect. Bring out our insecurities and weaknesses. It’s what the other person brings out in us. Can you see that? Our goal is to find the person who brings out the person we want to be. And we bring out their best self. It’s not who you are in a relationship. It’s who you are with that someone else in a relationship. Make sense?”

  “It does. I guess. I’m not sure I agree that Jackson’s changed his mind, but if he has, I’ll give it a try. See where it goes.”

  Olivia clinks her wine glass to mine. “That’s my girl. You only live once. So, live.” She raises her glass. “A toast. To finding our way. To finding happiness.”

  She raises her hand to attract our waiter’s attention. “We’ll take another bottle, dekuji.”

  We both sip our wine. My thoughts go to Olivia. Running from a bad relationship. “The toast. You said to finding our own way. Does this mean you’re on your way to happiness?”

  “Yeah, I am. I’ve put relationships on the back burner, and all my focus has been on me. Not just work but finding things I like. Books I like. Exercises I like. Museums I like. And you know what I’m discovering?”

  She’s glowing, and there’s a cheerfulness and confidence to her that’s heartwarming. “What are you discovering?”

  She dramatically lifts her wine glass out to the side in a ta da! fashion and says, “I like me.”

  I laugh with her. “I like you too, babe.”

  I’m a little lightheaded from all the wine, so I pick up the food menu, and the wine menu catches my eye. “Holy shit! You ordered us a one-hundred-and twenty-five-dollar bottle of wine. Are you out of your mind? Two of them!”

  Olivia grins. “I figured tonight is a night to celebrate. To celebrate our friendship. The end of a fantastic week together. And good things coming our way.” She lifts her glass for another toast. “Here’s to finding our own success and enjoying it. Whatever success might look like.”

  I clink my glass with hers. “I guess you’re doing well here, huh?” We sure as hell didn’t order bottles over a hundred dollars back in the States before she left.

  She smiles and winks. “Let’s just say I’m coming into my own.”

  Chapter 31

  Jackson

  I pace outside the baggage claim. My mouth has gone completely dry, but I’m not about to leave to get a bottle of water. My heart pounds with such vigor and strength I’m conscious of each beat.

  Check my phone for the thousandth time. She texted twenty minutes ago to say the line in customs is short, and I can meet her on the curb outside. As if.

  At some point over Thanksgiving, the truth hit me. I’m in love. Maybe I loved Anna four years ago. But this is a deeper love, something I’ve never felt before. I am willing to change my life for her. I want to make her my priority. But what do I do if she doesn’t feel the same way? If
she’s not willing to take the same risks?

  She told me she’s too emotional. Couldn’t keep seeing me. What if I tell her how I feel, and it doesn’t change anything?

  I did consider playing it safe. Picking her up from the airport as her friend. Taking it day by day, searching for signs she might be willing to take a chance on me. On us. But waiting to see is a weak approach.

  I’m not weak. I go after what I want. I won’t second-guess this. I’ve got to lay it all out there. I shouldn’t be this nervous. It’s not like I’m asking her to marry me. I’m only asking her to date me. I’m asking her to take a chance.

  A crowd of people pours through the international baggage area. I search the crowd. Families. Kids with stuffed animals in tow. One man hugs a woman who’s been standing outside waiting near me. Several business travelers hustle through and out of the building.

  My skin tingles. She’s near. I’ve always sensed when she’s near. I scan the crowd, and there she is, one hand pulling her suitcase, the other holding her phone, texting as she walks. My phone vibrates. I slip it in my pocket, swallow, and reach out to her.

  Surprised brown eyes stare into mine. Electricity burns through where I’m touching her arm then her hip. I pull her to me and embrace her. There’s a moment of hesitation. Her arms circle my waist and pull me close. Her hands press against my back, and I close my eyes. I have missed her in a way I didn’t know I could, and holding her calms the ache and relieves the physical pain I’ve carried in my chest.

  The hustle and bustle of the airport fades into the background. I hold her close to me, breathing her in. Whisper in her ear, “Can we sit and talk?”

  I guide her to a nearby vacant bench. She squints and holds my hand tightly. We sit together on the bench, thighs touching. She’s wearing black leggings, running shoes, and a worn gray sweatshirt. Natural. Beautiful. Perfect. Real.

  She tightens her grip on my hand. Here goes. “I’ve done a lot of thinking since we last said goodbye, and here’s the thing. You aren’t the only one who’s become emotional. I love you, Anna. I never said it four years ago, but I think I loved you then. I don’t want to end this. I want to try. I can’t promise it will be perfect. I can’t promise you I’ll be the best boyfriend. But I can promise you I’ll try. You will be a priority in my life. I promise to do my best to make you happy.”

  Those golden-brown eyes gaze into mine. She tilts her head, and my lungs contract. Time stops. Everything around us fades to black. Her lips touch mine. Soft.

  A single tear falls down her cheek. “I love you too, Jackson. So much.”

  * * *

  I unlock my apartment door and push it open. A brown, shaggy beast bounds through the door, leaping and twisting her body in the air. I watch the mother and child reunion with a smile plastered on my face. I’ve been smiling nonstop like a goon the whole way home from the airport. Anna has more to say, but she’s processing. I’ll wait. She told me she loves me, and that’s all I need to hear. I drove one-handed the whole way home, her hand in mine.

  I grab two bottles of water and head to the sofa. There are many things I want to do right now, but I wait for Chewie to calm down.

  Anna’s running her hands all over her dog, as if she’s checking for any signs of harm. She laughs. “I’m not sure she can see. This hair falls all over her eyes. She needs to go to the dog groomer, stat.”

  “When she runs, she seems to be able to see. But I’ll admit, it has crossed my mind that all that hair might be impeding her vision.”

  “Yeah, she needs the groomer.” Greeting completed, Anna slides up onto the sofa next to me. She runs her hand along my chest, and I inhale. Her lavender scent floods my senses.

  She fingers along my jaw, my hair, and as she stares into my eyes, she pulls my head down to hers. My pulse races. Then her lips meet mine.

  A soft brush of lips. She opens, and our tongues dance, tentative. A dance of rediscovery. Then our kiss deepens, and an urgency takes over. She climbs onto my lap and straddles me. Her core rocks against me. My hands explore her muscular ass and guide her hips. The tightness in my jeans and the sensation of her rubbing my cock through our clothes create a heady pain-ecstasy combination.

  She pulls back, both hands touching my face. “I’ve missed you.”

  I close my eyes and move to kiss her again as my hands grip her hips to move her.

  She breaks the kiss. Her hips softly undulate along my erection, teasing. “Do you think maybe we should talk first?”

  I exhale. “Probably. But now that I have you on my lap, maybe we can talk later?” There are more urgent matters at hand.

  “Well, I’ll make this quick, then.” She presses her hands against my chest and seems to be preparing to speak. She might be unaware, but her pelvis rocks back and forth.

  I groan and grip her hips to still them. “If you want to talk, you’ve got to stop grinding on me.”

  She climbs off and moves to sit on the opposite side of the sofa.

  “Ah, I didn’t say to do that.”

  She holds up an index finger. “Here’s the thing. I do want to be your girlfriend.”

  She pauses. I nod for her to continue. She’s captured my attention. Our sofa reunion and exchange of I love yous had me thinking we’re a done deal. Uncertainty hits hard. “Is there a but?”

  “No. I do love you. I do want to date you. But there’s something you need to know about me. I’m a pleaser.”

  I can’t handle not touching her. I grab her hand and grin. “Anna, that’s one of the things I love about you.” I attempt to suppress my smile so I don’t come off like a jackass.

  “No. Seriously. It can be problematic. You see. Before.”

  “With Evan?”

  “Yes. With Evan. Yes, he was controlling. And possessive. But I never once told him I wasn’t happy. Never once told him I wanted something different. So, in a way, I’m as responsible as he is for things not working out. I played along with my parents, his parents, him. I shocked the hell out of them when I told them the truth. And that’s kind of me. So, with you, if I’m going to do this…”

  I squeeze her hand. “And you are going to do this.”

  She smiles. “I need you to understand I might struggle to be honest with you.”

  “To communicate, you mean? To talk to me? Yeah, I kind of know this about you.”

  She gives me a playful shove. “I’m serious.”

  I return her stare. “So am I.”

  She climbs back onto my lap. “Does this mean you’re my boyfriend?”

  “Yes, it does.” I press my lips to hers. “You are my girlfriend. And we are giving this a go. And we’ll both make mistakes. I’ll piss you off. And you’ll tell me about it. And you’ll piss me off.”

  She wrinkles her nose in that cute way she has. “And you’ll tell me about it. Like you always do. It’s called communicating.”

  “And debating,” I counter.

  She raises her eyebrows. “And you love to debate.”

  “I love to persuade.”

  “But you won’t push too hard, right? You’ll let me stand up for myself?”

  I lean forward and bite her lip. “Always.”

  I lose patience and lift her sweatshirt then send it sailing across the room. Her cheeks glow. She leans in and nuzzles my neck. “I really like my boyfriend.”

  “Is that so? Because I really love my girlfriend.”

  Her bra hits the floor. My mouth falls to her nipple, sucking and biting. Her hips grind me, rubbing almost painfully against my hard cock. If I’m not careful, she’s gonna make me come fully clothed. With a groan, I pick her up and lay her down on my sofa, lying by her side so I can remove her leggings. She grabs my t-shirt and tosses it. Then her hands work the buttons on my jeans. In seconds, we’re naked, clothes scattered across the room. Her hand grips my cock and strokes. I slip a finger into her drenched pussy. I let her ride my fingers and grunt, “You are so wet. Is that for me?”

  “Only for you
.”

  I growl. I need to be in her now. Her long brown hair spreads across the sofa, her full breasts bouncing as she rides my fingers. Her thumb circles my juices on the end of my cock, then she sucks her thumb clean.

  I shift to slide between her legs and plunge into her. We both moan, overcome. “God, I have missed you.” I press into her, balls deep. I pause, savoring her tight pussy and long legs wrapped around me.

  “Open your eyes, Anna. Look at me.” Those golden-brown eyes open, and I start to thrust. To pound. To own.

  “You. Feel. So. Good. I’m never going to let you go.”

  Eyes open to me, and her smile lights her face as her hands run across my back, grabbing my ass, her hips urging me on, meeting me. Her back arches, and her muscles clench my cock. She’s close. I reach between us, press right along her clit, and she shatters around me. I let go and fill her with my release. Pulsing inside her. A vortex of emotion. She’s mine. Mine.

  I hold her close. Our breathing slows. And then a long, wet tongue slides along the side of my face and Anna’s. Chewie pushes her furry, smelly face between us. We both laugh.

  Chapter 32

  Anna

  The Edison light bulbs dangling from the ceiling and industrial modern design capture my interest. I whip out my iPhone to snap some photos. The Goldwater, Brooke, and Associates offices aren’t at all what I expected.

  A polished woman wearing a skin-tight black skirt, white silk camisole, and a power red jacket saunters past. I glance behind me to gawk. She’s wearing sky-high black heels in the office. Her dark hair hangs in a sophisticated, low, sleek pony. Every hair in place.

  I reach the reception desk and ask for Jackson. He invited me for lunch. Said he wanted his colleagues to meet his girlfriend. Only now that I’m here, I’m second-guessing my outfit. I’m wearing dark jeans, tall black Frye boots with wedge heels, a form-fitting sweater, and a camel swing coat. A thick camel scarf wraps around my neck. I loosen it. Either the heat runs rampant in this building, or I’m overdressed.

 

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