by Lisa Suzanne
My chest warms and there it is...butterflies in my stomach for Chase. He always managed to give me butterflies and tingles.
God, I’m in real trouble here.
“What can I get you to drink?” the waitress asks, interrupting my thoughts.
“Mimosa,” I say immediately, because that’s always the right answer when you meet someone for breakfast.
“Just water and black coffee for me,” Chase says, and I feel stupid for ordering alcohol when he doesn’t.
“Are you ready to order?” she asks, looking at me.
“I’ll have the blueberry pancakes with a side of hash browns,” I say. She squints at me and nods as if memorizing my order, and I wish she’d just write it down.
“I’ll have the same.” He smiles up at the waitress and hands her his menu. After she walks away, he leans in close. “Don’t tell my trainer. He’ll kill me.”
I giggle. “What does he make you eat?”
“Egg white omelets.” He wrinkles his nose. “But it’s the off-season and this is an important breakfast.”
“You get a pass in the off-season?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Brett says it’s especially important to eat right in the off-season. He wants us to keep up our normal workout routines and meals so we don’t fall behind when training camp starts, and it’s important to maintain flexibility to prevent injuries.”
“When does training camp start?”
“End of July.”
“So you’re off another month and a half?” I ask, thinking how interesting it is that our schedules are such that we both have time off for nearly two months in the summer—provided I’m not picking up summer school classes for extra cash, which I did do this summer. A brief thought that we could travel together or spend lazy days in bed enters my mind, but his next words quickly dash away those thoughts.
“I wouldn’t say I have it off, exactly. A lot of guys are rehabbing or having surgery, some head home. I live in Denver now so I already was home. I spend a lot of time with local charities, and I run a youth football camp while kids are on summer break. Round two starts Wednesday, and that’s why I need to head home on Tuesday.”
“That’s amazing,” I breathe as I take in everything he’s telling me. The Chase I knew was a good guy, but we were raised with privilege. We did charity work because it looked good on our college entrance applications, and we enjoyed the feeling we got when we helped others. It’s nice to know he’s still helping people—just on a much larger scale these days, using his means to help the less fortunate.
But telling me about his charity work isn’t why he invited me here this morning, and curiosity wins. “So, uh, your text said you had so much you wanted to say to me, and I assume you didn’t want to meet for breakfast to discuss your charity work.”
He laughs. “That’s not usually the response I get when I tell people what I do for the city.”
“I’m not most people.” I shrug and shoot him a cheeky smile.
He shakes his head. “No, you’re damn right about that.” We stare at each other for a few beats, and then he finally speaks again. “It’s good to see you again, Dee.”
I nod, but I can’t seem to make words come out of my mouth. I wish I had a witty response, but I don’t.
“Last night when I first saw you, it all came rushing back.” He shakes his head a little like he can’t believe it. “All the feelings, the pain of what I felt like I had to do at the time, all the love. It doesn’t just go away. I thought it faded. I thought it was gone. But it’s not. It’s all still there, as intense as it was back then.”
My heart races in my chest and my stomach twists as I try to comprehend what he’s telling me. My brows draw down in confusion or misunderstanding or shock as all those same feelings swirl in my brain.
He reaches across the short space of our table to take my hand in his. “I still love you, Dee. I never stopped, and I was stupid to let you go.”
Gavin’s lips flash through my mind, and I have no clue why they chose this particular moment to show back up in my brain. So soft...so firm...so perfect.
Why am I thinking of Gavin after Chase just said everything I’ve wanted to hear for the past ten years?
Words finally find me. “You’re right. You were stupid to end things the way you did, and you broke my heart.”
I’m proud of the profound strength behind those words. I never thought I’d have the nerve to say anything like that to him—especially now that he’s become someone else, a god of football and this ideal man I’ve built in my mind that no other man could ever possibly measure up to.
But sitting across from me now, he just reminds me of the boy I once loved...the boy I always loved.
The boy I want to love again?
After the revelations I had last night, I’m just not sure anymore.
“I know I did. I broke my own heart, too.” His eyes turn from mine down to the table, and I get the sense that he’s really uncomfortable with the direction of this conversation.
“That’s a convenient thing to say after all this time,” I say. If I’m even going to entertain the idea of taking him back, I need to take stock of his sincerity here. It’s all I can do to protect myself.
His eyes flick back up to mine. “I know, but it’s the truth, too. I’ve tried to forget about you, tried to move on. No one compares, and I want you back.”
I know the sentiment.
And I know how much he’s tried to move on. It’s been all over the tabloids—his many, many conquests, a different woman on his arm at seemingly every major event, tagged photos of him on Instagram from the morning after spending the night at some girl’s place.
It all hurt, but one single kiss last night seemed to heal the pain I’d been carrying with me for so long.
Gavin’s eyes flash through my mind. So stormy and blue and somehow haunting me on this sunny morning.
Gavin’s kiss made me feel things I hadn’t felt in a long time. Maybe ever. And his body did even more damage to my frame of mind.
But the one boy I ever really wanted is sitting across the table from me telling me he wants me, too.
The waitress drops off our food, my plate mounding with blueberry pancakes that look delicious, but suddenly my appetite is gone.
“You could’ve called. Why didn’t you?” I blurt.
He looks surprised by my question. He sets down his fork and stares at me for a beat. “I didn’t know what to say.”
I let that settle between us as I eye the syrup, not sure how to respond.
“Are you seeing anyone?” he asks as he digs into his first bite.
“Kind of,” I admit, thinking about last night again. “But its new and not serious.” My eyes follow the syrup as I pour it from a fancy little dispenser. I glance up at him as I contemplate telling him about Gavin, and then I look back down at my pancakes and attempt to cut myself a small bite. Chase’s jealous streak runs through my mind again, and even though I plan to be honest with him at some point if I see him again, this doesn’t feel like the right time.
“Nothing serious for me, either,” he says through another bite of his food.
We chew in silence for a few beats until I can’t take it anymore. I toss my fork down on my plate with a loud clatter. “So what does all this mean? What, exactly, do you want from me?”
He looks up in surprise, both brows shooting up his forehead at my little outburst. “I, uh...” He looks around a little wildly for a beat before he takes a deep breath and blows it out slowly. Once he’s fully composed, he says, “I want you back in my life. Whatever that means. We could try long-distance, or since you’re on summer break, you could come to Denver for a while, and maybe if you like it you can just stay. I want to take you out to dinner. I want to date you. I want to hold you in my arms, your head against my chest.” He taps his chest for emphasis. “I want to kiss you. God, do I want to kiss you.” He leans in and lowers his voice. “And I want to do all the things th
at come after kissing.”
The butterflies in my stomach are out in full force again, and I have the sudden urge to let him take me down to his hotel room and do all the things he just said. Especially the last one.
But I don’t even know him anymore. Not really.
My phone dings with a new text alert in the clutch I set next to me on the table when I first sat. My eyes break from his to look at the offending sound, and I know who it’s from without even looking.
Gavin.
He said he’d text me this morning.
“I can’t just...uproot my life and head to Denver, Chase.” I have an upcoming summer school session I volunteered to teach for the extra cash. Oh, and I have that meeting with Gavin this afternoon...
“I don’t expect you to. But I had to be honest with you.”
I wrinkle a brow. “You know all this from seeing me for ten seconds last night and a few minutes this morning?”
“In my heart, I’ve known for the last ten years, Dee.”
I’m not sure why I’m questioning him or fighting it because this is all I’ve wanted since the night he broke up with me.
My repeat text notification dings, and I have a sudden inkling as to why I’m fighting it.
I just can’t figure out why the idea of Gavin is pushing me in the opposite direction of Chase.
“Well, then you had ten years to get in touch. Why’d you wait?”
He lifts a shoulder, eyes back on the scenery instead of me. “I told you. I didn’t know what to say.”
“That’s a copout. Give me the truth.”
“I don’t know. Life moves fast, you know? One minute you’re floating through high school, and the next some coach convinces you that your future is the most important thing because you’re young and stupid. And then suddenly you’re wrapped up in practice and training and workouts and you just kind of find yourself a little lost.”
I didn’t think it was possible, but he somehow manages to make me feel sorry for him. Just because his life seems glamorous to an outsider doesn’t mean it is.
“I’m sorry,” I say. It’s an automatic response when someone makes a confession like that. Manners win this time over the hurt of the past.
“I’m sorry, too.” His eyes find mine, and I see all that sincerity there again. But I’m having trouble figuring out what the right thing to do here is versus the thing I thought I wanted for so long. Would Chase really be what twenty-eight-year-old Delaney needs? Or is Chase simply Delaney’s dream as an eighteen-year-old come to life?
That’s the magic question, and I don’t have the answer. Especially not when I can still feel Gavin’s lips on mine and his body hovering over me.
“I just need some time to process all this,” I say. I stand, my pancakes virtually untouched, and pick up my clutch. “I’ll text you, okay?” I turn to leave, but his voice stops me.
“When?”
I lift a shoulder and shoot him a smile. “Faster than it took you to get in touch with me.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The elevator doors taking me down to the lobby have barely shut behind me when I slide my phone out of my clutch along with my valet ticket.
Gavin: Meeting is over. When can I see you?
I smile at my phone in spite of everything.
Me: I don’t have any plans today.
Gavin: Have you eaten breakfast?
The elevator doors open before I have a chance to respond. I head over to valet and hand them my ticket, getting caught back up in my conversation with Gavin.
Me: Sort of but I could eat again.
Gavin: I’m not sure what that means but I’m heading home. I can pick up something on the way and meet you there.
Gavin’s house? Why does the very thought make my hands sweat and my knees feel weak?
Me: Text me your address and I’ll be on my way.
He does, and I immediately pull it up on the map. He lives in Santa Monica, and according to the map, his place is right on the beach.
I swoon a little.
The valet pulls my car up, and I hand him a tip before getting in and texting Gavin back.
Me: I’ll be there in 33 minutes.
His quick reply is a laughing face emoji, and then another one comes through.
Gavin: I’ll try to get there first.
I take my time to allow him a little more time, and as I drive with my window down, a warm breeze blowing my hair wildly around and the scenery become less green and more beachy, I realize this is why I’ve stayed in California all this time.
I love living minutes from the beach—not that my apartment is really all that close, but it’s less than a half hour drive. I love the warmth of the California sun and the mountains and the salty ocean air. It reminds me of an easier time in my life, but it also reminds me how far I’ve come.
I turn up the radio when Beyond Gold’s smash hit comes on, and I really listen to the words as my conversation with Rose pops back into my mind.
If it really is about me, which I’m still convinced it isn’t, because how fucking egotistical would I be to say yeah, that song is totally about me...but if it is...could the first verse be about the night Chase and I broke up? Gavin sings, “Standing there, tears in your eyes, I pretend again, but it’s all lies...”
That night he held me close through the entire night. Was he pretending he wasn’t in love with me all those years ago? And did his heartache lead him to a number one song on the charts only a few short years later?
Now that Rose put that thought in my head, I can’t help but wonder.
And hope.
Is it wrong to hope that he did love me all that time ago? And is it even worse that I want him to still have those feelings for me today?
I haven’t felt loved, and I mean really loved, since Chase and I were together. Too much changed in the aftermath of our breakup that I didn’t even really feel it from my family anymore. It was my own fault for distancing myself from everyone and everything I knew—except for Rose. Porter and I didn’t get close again until after he graduated from college and we happened to be looking for a roommate at the same time.
He asked me why I didn’t just move in with Rose, and the answer was simple: my pride. If I was going to live with someone, I wanted to be able to split the rent. And Rose’s tastes were so far out of my budget that I couldn’t even entertain the possibility of renting just a single room from her.
As I pull in front of Gavin’s beach mansion, because let’s face it, this isn’t just some little beach house, I feel an overwhelming sense that I’m not good enough to be here.
Once upon a time I belonged, but that just isn’t the case any longer. I put the car in park and head up the driveway.
“I beat you here by ten seconds,” Gavin says, emerging from a Land Rover parked in the driveway with a bag of food and a grin on his handsome face. Sunglasses cover those gorgeous eyes of his, and I’m suddenly filled with nerves.
I wasn’t even this nervous to meet Chase this morning.
I pretend to glance around through Rose’s sunglasses, but really my eyes are glued to the man standing by the car. He’s wearing that leather jacket again even though the sun is warm despite the sixty-four-degree temperature this close to the water. He has a white shirt underneath his jacket just like last night, like it’s some sort of rock star uniform. His jeans are the perfect fit, and as he turns to close his car door, my eyes wander down to his ass. I can’t help my little gasp at the sight. Tight and perky, and last night he admitted his feelings for me and I got to spend some time in his bed.
I shouldn’t be nervous given all the facts, but I am.
I take a few tentative steps toward him.
“Come on in,” he says, and my eyes shift to his lips and then to his square jaw that’s covered in the perfect amount of stubble.
Good God, if only this man knew the thoughts running through my head.
And then one interrupts the rest.
I still lov
e you, Dee. I never stopped, and I was stupid to let you go.
I close my eyes for a beat, willing Chase out of my thoughts. Why is he popping up now? I don’t want to think of him—just like I didn’t want to think of Gavin when I was at the restaurant with Chase. I just want to immerse myself in the moment, but instead these wandering thoughts peck painfully away at me.
I follow Gavin up the driveway and up some stairs into his living room, which is connected to a dining area and a lush kitchen. The countertops are a white quartz with gorgeous silvery sparkles, something I’ve only seen on those house flip shows on HGTV. His cabinets are a dark gray, the perfect contrast to the white, and when I turn around, I see a gorgeous view of the beach. This place is clean and luxurious and I get this sudden sense like despite everything, I belong here.
With Gavin.
My friend.
Maybe more.
“I got breakfast burritos. I hope that’s okay,” he says, setting the bag on the kitchen table and heading for a cabinet to grab some plates.
“That’s perfect,” I say, my voice a little huskier than I want it to be. I realize only now these are the first words I’ve spoken since I belted out the lyrics to Beyond Gold’s hottest song in the car.
“So you sort of already ate?” he asks.
I feel a little well of guilt rise up, and even though I want him to kiss me again, I have the urge to be honest with him. “Yeah. Uh...Chase asked me to breakfast this morning, and I met him. But I didn’t really eat much.”
He raises a brow but doesn’t say anything, and I feel stupid for having mentioned it.
“I ordered pancakes but lost my appetite. I’m actually starving right now.”
He chuckles, grabs a package out of the bag, and sets it on the plate before handing it to me.
“Drink?” he asks.
“Just some juice if you’ve got it.” I set my plate on the table and walk over to grab his plate for him, too. I set his across from me so I can look at his hot face while we eat.
“Apple, grapefruit, or orange?”
“Orange please. But obviously I can’t let the grapefruit one slide. Isn’t that for the elderly?”
