by L. M. Carr
“That’s not true, Addison. I see you everywhere. On television, online, in commercials, in magazines.”
I glare at him and shake my head as frustration and doubt mix, torturing my poor heart. “Why should I believe a word you’re saying right now? We haven’t talked in almost ten years. Ten years, Julian.”
Our eyes lock…until his phone vibrates. Again, he slowly reaches into his back pocket to retrieve it. He scoffs when he looks at the screen.
“I’m sorry. I need to take this, but I want to see you later.”
I have no response other than to continue watching him as he answers the call with a sharp greeting.
Lost in thought while Julian engages in a terse conversation, my gaze travels around the room, wondering how different my life was seventy-two hours ago. I run my fingers across my lips, hoping they don’t look as swollen as they feel.
Julian’s movement grabs my attention as he strides to the door, stopping abruptly and turning. “I’ll see you tonight.”
“No, you won’t. I have plans,” I lie, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Cancel them.”
“I’m not canceling anything.”
“I’ll pick you up at seven.”
“You don’t even know where I live.”
“38 Columbus Avenue. Apartment 11.”
Astounded, I desperately want to conjure up another tale to avoid seeing him, but I can’t. Truth is, I want to see him. Want to talk to him. “Fine. You get thirty minutes of my time, no more. Don’t be late, because your time starts exactly at seven.”
A roguish smile spreads across his face. “When have you ever known me to be late?”
I roll my eyes.
“By the way, I’ve thought about kissing you for years, too.” He winks and exits my office.
I’m on autopilot the rest of the day, each action controlled by habit. I check off each task as the minutes tick by.
“Knock, knock,” an apologetic voice calls from my door.
I glance up from my computer and purse my lips tightly. “What do you want, Justin?”
“May I come in?”
Staring at him with a scowl on my face, I give him a tight nod.
“Listen, I owe you an apology.”
“You think?” I snap.
“AJ…” He sighs softly, remorse etched on his face. “I’m sorry for what I said earlier. You were right. I was being a dick.”
I drag in a slow breath and blow it out as I motion to the vacant chair. “Sit down.”
Hesitantly, Justin enters my office and sits, hands wringing together.
“We probably should’ve been honest with each other from the beginning.”
He nods.
“I owe you an apology, as well.”
“How so?”
“Well…” I chuckle, shaking my head in disbelief. “I kind of emasculated you in front of everyone.”
Laughter erupts as he gives me a genuine smile. “Yeah, that was a little over the top.”
Knowing how untrue my statement about his…prowess was, I grin. “Just a little.”
Silence fills my office as I swallow, plunging forward.
“Here’s the thing, Justin. I care about you…a lot. If we had met at another time or some other place, maybe things could’ve been different between us. Unfortunately, I can’t give you something I don’t have.”
Justin’s forehead wrinkles. “I’m not exactly sure what you mean.”
I smile sadly. “You should be with someone who can give you everything you deserve. Someone who can love you with her whole heart…” My chin quivers. I swallow down my approaching emotions. “You don’t want my broken pieces. It’s not fair to you.”
With a tight smile, Justin continues to stare at me. “I wish I were the man who could make your heart whole.”
“I know you do.”
Standing, Justin reaches for my hand, caresses the top of it with his thumb, then places a gentle kiss along my knuckles. “I will always be here for you.”
He releases his hold as I stand and walk around the desk. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him in for a hug. I knew “goodbye” was inevitable, but I didn’t expect it to hurt so much. The broken pieces of my heart shift and cut deep.
Justin’s arms reach around my waist and press against the small of my back. He exhales a deep breath, burying his face in my hair.
“I’d like to believe a small part of you loved me,” he whispers, then kisses my cheek.
Words of affirmation become lodged beneath the lump in my throat as I forbid them from slipping through my lips.
Chapter Eight
By the time five o’clock rolls around, I still feel sad and anxious. Ending my relationship with Justin wasn’t part of my plan today. He’s a good man, just not the one for me. Leading him to believe we could ever be more is wrong.
And then there’s Julian…
Despite living with a broken heart, I’d always held onto the hope that a reunion was possible. Before Julian and I were a couple, we were friends. He was the one person I could count on, and vice versa. After his injury, his personality transformed into someone I no longer knew. Each time I thought I would have the chance to ask one of the million questions that consumed my mind, the opportunity was somehow averted and I got no answers.
During the commute back to my apartment, I debate on how to present myself to Julian. Should I hide behind the guise of professionalism, since I will be interviewing him soon, or should I be transparent and allow him to see the hurt he has caused? The choice would be easy if not for the kiss in my office.
That kiss…
What was I thinking? Why did I let it happen? Why did I even agree to see him again?
I’ve only committed to thirty minutes, so that’s all he’ll get.
The apartment is empty when I arrive. I strip off my clothes and hop into the shower, washing the day away. Wrapped in a short robe, a towel around my head, I stride into the kitchen and grab a bottle of red wine from the small, wooden rack. I uncork it and bring it to my nose to inhale the fruity aroma. I pour a glass and chug it, then refill the stemless glass before heading into my bedroom to change.
Once dressed, I sip the wine, looking at myself in the mirror. Deciding to lose the long necklace, I leave my neck bare, exposing the skin beneath the black shirt. I turn slightly, checking out my ass in the fitted jeans. I smirk, remembering how much Julian used to tell me how much he loved it.
I nod, satisfied, and head back into the bathroom to blow dry and style my hair. While applying a light touch of makeup, I hear the front door open, so I call out.
“Girl…,” I draw out. “You’re never going to guess what happened today!” I unplug the blow dryer and put it away, not waiting for her response before continuing. “I broke up with Justin.”
“Really?” she replies, surprised. “Why?”
“It was time.” I spray perfume into the air, allowing it to lightly fall onto my skin. “And you’re never going to guess who showed up at work today and asked me to dinner tonight.”
I straighten up the bathroom and shout his name. “Julian! The asshole had the fucking nerve to show up at my job and act like we’re friends, like no time had passed. He even kissed me! I mean, it is Julian and all, but fuck! He has no idea what he’s in for.”
I walk back into my room to put on my shoes. “I just opened a bottle,” I continue. “I had two glasses already. I don’t know why I’m so nervous.”
My heels click on the hardwood laminate as I walk back into the living room, almost tripping over my own feet when I see Julian standing next to my roommate, a small smirk on his face.
Snapping my eyes to Naomi, I give her a dirty look.
Sorry, she mouths, wincing.
“Thanks for the heads-up.”
“It’s not your roommate’s fault. It’s mine,” he interjects. “I begged her to let me in.”
I redirect my attention and meet his mischievous grin. “You’re e
arly.” I lift my glass and chug the rest of its contents.
“I’ve not forgotten how punctual you are. I figured you might want to head out early.”
Naomi drops her briefcase onto the couch and walks past me, stopping for a brief moment to whisper, “What was I supposed to do? Leave him standing by the door? The poor guy was pacing back and forth.”
My lips wrinkle with annoyance as I digest her words. I watch Naomi reach for a glass from the cabinet and pour several ounces of pinot noir. She turns and stands there, assessing the gorgeous man. Eventually, she looks over the rim of her glass as she takes a sip.
“It was nice to finally meet you, Julian,” my traitorous roommate sings as she walks into her room.
I swallow thickly as I stare at the man who has inhabited my heart since I was twelve. Time is not kind, thoughtful or considerate. Instead, I am haunted by the memories that I’ve tried to forget, each one rushing forward like an unbridled deluge of emotion threatening to demolish the wall I’ve built.
Nervously, I motion to the bottle on the counter. “Do you want a drink before we go?”
Dressed in jeans and a button-down under a jacket, Julian smiles tightly and shakes his head.
“I have a bottle of white in the fridge. Would you prefer that?” I walk over, pull the stainless-steel door open and reach for the sauvignon blanc, holding it up.
“No, thanks. I’m all set.”
“How about a beer? There are a few in here.” As soon as the words leave my lips, I cringe, realizing they belong to Justin. Not long ago, we sat on the couch and had pizza and beer.
“I don’t drink,” he admits.
I laugh humorlessly. “Since when? You and Rence used to steal my dad’s beer when we were in high school.”
Julian holds my gaze, his blue eyes staring right through me, reaching into the center of my soul. “I’ve been sober for five years, Addison.”
“Julian…,” I breathe out. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” A wave of shame washes over me.
He shrugs casually. “How could you have known?”
I grimace, feeling as though I should have somehow. My mouth opens, then closes, unable to form a question.
“After the accident, I spun out of control. Went completely off the deep end.”
My eyebrows raise in surprise. “The accident?”
He licks his lips. “The injury.”
My jaw drops. “Oh.” I have never heard anyone call it an “accident”. While the tackle was deliberate, as all tackles are, the intention was never to cause such a career-ending injury. No one could have predicted the aftermath.
Awkwardness and pity float in the air. Finally, I clear my throat.
“Shall we go then?” I ask, breezing past Julian and walking to the closet by the door. After retrieving my jacket, I turn around and startle when he’s standing right behind me. He leans in and glides his nose against my neck, inhaling slowly.
“You smell good. What are you wearing?”
My body sizzles, causing my temperature to rise as every nerve ending goes on high alert. “Ralph Lauren Romance,” I reply demurely.
“I want to kiss you again,” he murmurs, trailing his nose from my jawline to my ear. “You look beautiful and smell delicious enough to eat.”
My knees buckle slightly, causing me to grab onto the doorknob for support.
Sliding his hand down my arm, he takes my jacket from my tight grasp and steps back, holding it open for me. Spinning slowly, I slip my arms in.
“Thank you,” I say, glancing over my shoulder. The light scruff on his face shadows his smile.
Julian gathers my long hair in his hand and gives it a gentle tug as he leans in. “You’re very welcome, although I hate that you’re putting layers on. I’d much rather help you out of them.”
Facing him, I search his face with a furrowed brow. “You don’t even know me anymore. It’s been years…”
“Not to me.”
Julian follows me out of the apartment, and we stand silently as the elevator travels down to my floor, a quiet lull ensuing before the door opens.
“After you,” he says, gesturing with his hand.
I toss him a dubious glance, then chuckle. “So chivalrous.”
“Only with you,” he counters.
I start forward, then stop, glancing at him. “You’re not going to stab me in the back or something, are you?”
“Never,” he says before his voice lowers. “I won’t hurt you again.”
Swallowing, I walk into the elevator, Julian trailing. The whole ride down, I am fully aware he’s watching my every move. My gaze bounces around the small space, if for no other reason than to avoid his.
“Finally,” I mutter when we land on the ground floor and the doors open. I immediately see a gorgeous bouquet of flowers sitting beneath the built-in mailboxes.
A whoosh of cool air rushes into the vestibule as another resident walks through the front door.
“AJ! Hi!”
I smile at the man who lives across the hall. “Hey, Phil. How’s it going?”
“Not bad.” His eyes dart from Julian to me. “Let me know when we’re going on that date.”
I gulp, watching Julian out of the corner of my eye, feeling a surge of tension radiating from his body. “Date?”
“Yeah.” Phil pushes the elevator button. “Remember? You said you were going to look at your calendar and find a date that works for us to go pick out some new furniture for my place. I think I might get a new bed, too.”
“Oh, yes… Sorry. Work has been so crazy these last few weeks.”
“So I’ve heard,” he says with a smile. “Well, enjoy your evening.”
Once the elevator doors close, I glance at Julian, then nod in the direction of the floral arrangement on the floor.
“Well, that’s not a very romantic way to give someone flowers,” I comment.
“You’re right.” Bending down, he picks them up and holds them out to me. His expression softens. “Is this better?”
My forehead wrinkles in confusion. “It would be if they were actually for me.”
“Read the card.”
Skeptically, I remove the rectangular paper from the envelope, read it and smile. My heart beats faster at his sweet words about how much he missed me. This is the Julian I remember.
“Thank you. That’s really sweet.”
“Can I see the card for a minute?” he asks, reaching into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulling out a pen.
I hold it out. “What are you going to do?”
“Sign it ‘Asshole’,” he says, drawing a line through his name.
I snatch the card away before he can follow through. I exhale loudly. “Jerk.”
A hesitant, but genuine smile spreads across his face when he looks at me, then clicks the pen closed and puts it away. “I’m glad you like them. I had hoped orchids were still your favorite.”
“They are,” I reply with a nod, internally reeling that he remembered.
A long-forgotten memory races to the forefront of my mind. I sigh, recalling the days we spent in his mother’s garden, helping her gather flowers to sell at her little stand in front of their modest home. While Julian insisted that she set a specific price, his mother never did. Her friends and neighbors were generous people who gave more than she could have ever asked for.
“Do you remember all the times I chased you with a handful of worms?”
My eyes flash to his as I laugh. “Yes! You used to torture me. I ran away from you like my life depended on it.”
“I don’t think you ever ran quite that fast on the soccer field!”
I slap his arm. “Shut up! Sorry I wasn’t All-State like you.”
Another quiet rumble of laughter slips through. I shake my head and look at the flowers.
“You know, if you had given these to me upstairs, I could’ve put them in water.”
He shrugs. “Next time.”
Preferring not to carry the bea
utiful bouquet of flowers out to dinner, I slide the card into my bag, set the flowers back down and text Naomi, asking her to come down and retrieve them for me. Then I push the door open and step into the cool January air.
“Where are we going? I can drive,” I quickly offer.
“Actually, it’s such a beautiful night, I thought we could walk.”
“Isn’t it a little chilly?” I refute, pulling my jacket tight, wishing I had thrown on a scarf.
“Addison Jane! Have you forgotten you’re a New Englander?”
“No! I just don’t like the cold.”
“You never minded the cold when we were kids,” he replies with a coy smile. The sparkle in his eyes leads me to believe he’s referring to the times we had sex in his car after football games.
I swallow hard, my voice coming out strained. “I think a lot has changed since then.”
“And a lot hasn’t.”
Crossing my arms, I rub my hands over the sleeves of my jacket and shiver as we stroll down the sidewalk without speaking. I look at Julian out of the corner of my eye.
“Are you going to lure me into an alley and kill me?” I quip.
He frowns. “What?”
“You’re awfully quiet over there.”
He smiles but doesn’t offer anything else.
Our soft footsteps lead us down another block.
“Where are we going? The city limits?” I tease with a grin.
“I wouldn’t lead you down the wrong path.”
I raise a dubious eyebrow.
“Trust me. There’s this great restaurant a few more blocks up.”
“But we just passed some really good ones.”
“I know, but I want someplace quiet...so we can talk.”
For someone seemingly eager to talk, Julian falls silent once again.
Since it’s a Monday night, only quiet chatter welcomes us as we enter McKinley’s Bar and Grill. The hostess leads us to a booth large enough for five people. I slide in on one side, assuming Julian will sit on the other side.
“Slide in.”
Huffing, I toss him a wry look as I hesitantly follow his command. He sits beside me, despite having more room on the other side.
“Why’d you pick McKinley’s?” I ask, picking up the wine list.
