by Lara Swann
Maybe I just wanted the liquid courage.
Or to hear someone else say it.
It’s all-or-nothing for me now. I know what I want.
And all I can do is hope that Cassie’s answer is the same.
Or, if that fails - show her that it is.
Chapter Seventeen
Cassie
“So you haven’t spoken to him?”
I just got in from my last exam, dumped my bag on the floor and now I’m lying on my bed, listening to Maria’s carefully neutral voice on the phone.
We talked last week too, and I can’t work out whether it’s because she’s just checking I’m okay, or after the week we spent together, she realized she’d like to keep in touch a little more. Or maybe I’m the one who realized it.
“No.”
There’s a long silence, and I can hear the ‘why not?’ in it.
But I don’t answer her.
I’m not sure I have a reason.
Or, rather, I have a dozen - but none of them really fit.
Because I’ve had exams.
Because I don’t know what I want.
Because I don’t know what he wants.
Because he insulted me to hell and back.
Because I’m doing the girly thing and think he should call me.
“Will you let me know when you do?” She finally asks.
Not if. When.
She clearly has a lot more faith in this thing than I think I do.
“Yeah, okay. Sure.” I agree. “How’s Mark?”
“Still pissed. But okay, too. I think he wants you to bring Josh back so he can go through blow-by-blow what was true about the whole thing.”
“Yeah, Maria…you know there might not be a Josh, right? Like, in my life. After all this.”
It hurts to say, but I’m trying not to delude myself here. She’s silent again, but when she finally responds it’s a little amused.
“If you say so, Cassie.”
I roll my eyes, even though she can’t see me, and the conversation shifts to Ellie and Lucas - always safe subjects, and I’m enjoying feeling closer to my niece and nephew too.
Maybe the vacation wasn’t all bad.
Then Josh reappears in my mind, again. As he keeps doing.
And I take that back. It was definitely all bad.
We talk for another ten minutes or so, and when she hangs up I stare at my phone, feeling the void that seems to have appeared in my life since Josh and I stopped talking.
It’s not the first time, of course. There have been plenty of times we’ve both just faded away - busy with life, and with far too much going on for casual chitchat. It’s usually exactly at times like this too, when I’ve had exams and needed to put my social life on hold.
But it’s the first time I’ve felt I can’t just reach out to him.
Like there isn’t someone waiting at the other end of the phone, ready to exchange a quick five-minute banter to relax and destress, or to share some random entertainment from my day.
It’s the first time it’s been an emptiness instead of a brief intermission. And we always knew we’d get together again soon. Now, I don’t know that.
And, more than that, I don’t feel like I even want there to be that pause. I miss him, in a way I haven’t before, and I keep picturing seeing him again - looking up from a cheap cocktail, roguish grin on his face, or walking around the corner trying not to bump into someone, buried in his latest script.
Or kissing me.
That too.
Damn it.
And tonight…tonight would be the night I’d almost always hit him up to go out. Post-exam celebration.
Instead, I feel down and miserable and I have for the last two weeks. The exams have left me weary, sure, they always do - but I know that this time, it’s not about that.
I’ve barely been able to focus on them at all.
That scares me, just a little, because I never wanted to get into something that could distract me or pull me away from them. But now I’m not even in anything, and it’s happening anyway.
And I can’t help wondering if maybe, for the first time, that resolution isn’t as firm as it was.
If maybe I could balance studying with a relationship.
If maybe I’d even want to.
Have someone to kiss and cuddle and fuck and laugh with. Someone who might support me, instead of detract from everything else I want to do, as I’ve always feared.
My eyes catch on the diary I’ve stuffed into my shelf, and I pull it out, almost unable to help myself.
I flick through it again, as I’ve done almost every night for the last few weeks.
I haven’t been able to write anything in it. Not since I got back, and remembered Josh’s comment…
You have a diary of things we’ve done together?
That’s not what it was meant to be. Not what I thought it was. But every page…
Josh and I got tacos and played pool…Josh tried to convince me to watch Lord of the Rings…Josh is thinking about getting a tattoo…I moved into my new place today, and Josh said…Josh broke up with Amy this morning, that’s another one…Josh drove me crazy today…
Damn it.
I glance at my phone again, then reach over and open up our most recent messages - from before we left to see my family.
I might have spent far too much time on this screen over the last couple of weeks.
This sucks.
I flick over to another contact - Hannah - and wonder whether she’ll want to go out for a post-exam celebration instead. Josh isn’t my only friend. He’s just the one I have all these things with.
The one I want to see tonight.
I switch it back to him again.
And, after two weeks of silence, that’s the moment a message finally comes in.
Can we talk? Jack’s tonight?
I bite my lip.
I have no idea whether he’s done that deliberately - my last day of exams - or it’s just coincidence. But I can’t help the shot of silly, ridiculous relief that bursts through me.
Followed a moment later by anxiety.
I have no idea how the hell this is going to go.
I spend far longer than I should trying to work out the wording of my response - something I’ve never, ever done with Josh, or actually, with anyone - and then go with my initial attempt.
Okay. See you there.
I take a deep breath as I get ready - putting way more effort into it than usual then noticing how weird that is and mussing my hair up again.
Oh fuck all this.
I throw on my favorite top, a hot leather jacket, and give my make-up a once-over.
My standard low-effort high-result formula.
Then I walk out of my room, butterflies dancing in my stomach.
I want to see Josh again. I want to have our post-exam celebrations, our stupid debates over unimportant life issues, our everyday banter and our TV binge sessions.
But I don’t think I can just be friends with him anymore.
And I don’t know whether the idea of more was ever real to him.
* * *
Despite all my deliberations, I still get there before him.
And I order the 2-for-1 cocktails again. But I get one round this time, instead of our usual two.
There’s a small part of me that wonders whether this talk is going to last for two drinks.
I’m used to waiting for him, too. But tonight it pisses me off. I’m too taut and uneasy to enjoy an easy drink before he arrives.
When I do see him walking down the stairs and into the underground bar, though…
Ohh fuck.
I wonder whether it might have been better if he’d been a little later. Just so I could’ve prepared a bit more.
He’s gorgeous as ever - only now, this time, I see it.
In a blood-rushing-from-my-head, sparks flaring through me, and heat building in my pussy kind of way.
The sort of reaction I
so totally shouldn’t be having right now.
He smiles as he sees me, sending another buzz of response through me, and the bastard looks confident enough that I want to smack him just for that.
If he thinks we can continue like nothing happened…
But he walks straight past the seat opposite me. Right up to where I’m sat on one of those high bar stools.
And before I know what’s happening, he’s leaning down and kissing me.
Right fucking here.
His hand tangles in my hair and his lips are firm against mine - no soft, gentle caresses this time, just a hunger that makes me ache. I want to be outraged, but I can’t. I’m responding already, kissing him back, my own hand reaching up to grip the back of his neck as I melt against him the way I’ve wanted to for the longest two weeks of my life.
By the time he finally lets me go, growling a little as he steps back, I swear my vision has gone fuzzy at the edges and I’m already wet.
Oh, fuck me.
He sits down with a satisfied smirk, and I want to feel like glaring at him for it.
But I don’t. Instead, I wish he hadn’t stopped at all.
“I don’t think you can just do that…after everything…” I say, flustered.
That shouldn’t be an appropriate greeting right now.
My mind insists on it, even as my body is wholeheartedly disagreeing.
“You don’t want me to?” He says, eyes still burning with the kind of need I’ve been suppressing all week.
“I…I don’t know what I want.” I say, trying to breathe again.
Trying to think while those smoldering, sex-on-fire eyes are on me.
I’m not exactly sure what I expected from this, but not that.
There’s so much I wanted to say…needed to say…and now I can’t remember any of it.
This was meant to be difficult. Fraught. Tense.
He wasn’t supposed to do that.
Josh never fucking does what he’s supposed to do.
And now he’s just sitting there, eyebrow raised, looking hot as all hell and daring me to tell him not to kiss me.
I run a hand through my hair, and take a sip of my margarita to buy time.
“I’m confused, Josh.” I shake my head. “That whole damned thing…got really fucking confusing. I—I couldn’t tell what was real anymore. What we were to each other.”
I take a deep breath, look back at him.
I’d been afraid he didn’t mean it - what we were doing back there. That it had all been wrapped up in the act. Kissing me like that…well, that should tell me what I need to know. But still…
“You’re a really fucking good actor, Josh. I didn’t know whether…it was all just an act to you. Real, hot sex maybe, but a fake role.” I say, and this time I don’t shy away from his eyes.
His expression eases, and he shifts forward. No less intense, but gentler with it - softer, almost.
His hand covers mine and he shakes his head, the cocky attitude shifting to something deeper.
“I’m a good actor, Cassie, but…fuck, I don’t think anyone could be that good.” He smiles at me, brushing my knuckles with his thumb and raising goosebumps all the way up my arm. “It was all real. Everything I did…the way I touched you…kissed you…the way I wanted you. And after all of that - I don’t think we can be just friends anymore, Cassie.”
I swallow, and my heart leaps.
Every stupid part of me gets tingly and warm and starts to hope. To think that maybe, just maybe…
“What about…everything you said, Josh?” I ask, not wanting to ruin the moment, but needing to ask. “About me being…self-centered and—and ungrateful. Was that real, too?”
He stares at me for a moment, and I tense up, but I have to know. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. And if he really thinks that, I don’t think I could face him again. Not even for…everything he just said.
There’s no doubt in my mind that selfishness and inconsideration are practically family traits. But I’d never thought I’d be blind enough not to notice if I was—
“Fuck, Cassie, of course not. How could you think—fuck it, I picked things you’d know could never be true. You’re studying to be a doctor, Caz. You want to help people more than anyone I know. And, damn it, how many times have you listened to me repeat the same lines again and again, even though we both knew I knew it, just because I was stressing?”
I relax. Finally, truly relax.
In a way that makes me realize just how tense I’d been before.
I hadn’t known just how much it had bothered me - that my best friend could have thought those things of me and never, ever said.
I sigh, and he leans in to kiss me again.
“You really are ridiculous sometimes, Caz.” Familiar, warm teasing.
I relax even more, but then frown as something else occurs to me, narrowing my eyes at him suspiciously.
“Wait, what about the risk-taking and spreadsheets and timetables thing? That’s true - and I never thought it bothered you that mu—”
He kisses me again, shutting me up for a long moment, and when he breaks it again I feel better before he even answers.
“Well, one of us needs to be good at that shit.” He sits back with folded arms and a raised eyebrow.
Us.
It sends a little thrill through me, and I know I’m starting to get ridiculous now, but after everything…I’m enjoying the burst of happy, positive feelings.
Even if his attitude is infuriating.
“You’re making a load of assumptions there, buddy.”
“Feel free to correct any you don’t like.” He smirks at me, and that sends another burst of heat straight to my pussy.
I think I might’ve liked it more when I was immune to that.
But damn, Josh always could call my bluff.
I don’t say anything, and he just laughs, then cocks his head at me.
“Okay, so what about the stuff you said to me?” He asks.
That makes my ears burn. I’d almost forgotten about that. And from his attitude, it’s not like he seems to have any insecurities from it - but turnabout is fair play.
“Well I meant it about you being a fucking good actor and it pissing me off that I couldn’t work out what was actually real.” I point out, just to bait him.
“Yeah, you’ve made that one clear, babe.” He drawls, and I roll my eyes.
“But I’m sorry for what I said about your relationships. That was shit of me - I was just angry, and I took it out on you.”
He nods, and I realize I’m actually glad he did ask. I’d needed to apologize.
“Those break ups were probably your fault anyway, babe. Hard for anyone else to compare.” He grins, but that catches me off guard.
“Wait a minute…how long has this been a thing for you?” I ask, disconcerted.
I thought we were just friends.
And I’m not sure whether I should feel a little…deceived…by that admission.
“Well, I realized you were actually hot a while ago.” He says, a smile playing at his lips.
“I’ve been telling you that for years!” I object, laughing a little.
But I know what he means.
He’s always been hot, and I’ve always known that. Admired it purely from an aesthetic point of view.
But actually feeling it now - in a spiraling-lust-straight-through-me kind of way - that still shocks me every time.
“But,” He continues, “I didn’t know I loved you until a couple of weeks ago. When I felt you under me for the first time - and knew, straight to my core, that I never wanted to let you go again.”
I freeze, the light-hearted banter disappearing from my lips as I stare at him.
What?!
It should be crazy.
Love?!
It’s only been…three weeks. And we weren’t even speaking for two of them.
You can’t fall in love in that time.
Unless…w
ell, unless you count the four years.
My heart seizes up in my chest, and I think of everything I’ve felt the last few weeks…
The intense desire, wanting and needing to kiss him, touch him, fuck him…the happiness just to have him around, being there, supporting me…the anger and hurt at the idea that he’d been chasing after Nikki…at the way I thought he’d insulted me…and then the despair and emptiness after I thought it was fake, and over, and I’d lost him…
“Oh…” I say, barely audible.
He smiles at me - and this time it’s not that cocky smirk, but a real smile. That lights up his face and eyes and makes my heart dance.
He stands up and comes over to kiss me, and I kiss him back as if I’m starving, breathing in every part of him and getting lost in his mouth, his lips, his tongue.
When we come up for air, I know I’m dazed, but I can’t help the smile that creeps over my face.
“Oh…” I repeat. “Is that what that feeling is?”
He just laughs at me, and then he’s pulling me off the bar stool and my legs moving automatically to wrap around his waist, and I’m laughing with him, looking down at the handsome cut of his face and kissing him again and again.
We’re attracting attention, and I’m pretty sure this isn’t the place for this, but I’m happy enough I don’t even care.
“So…do you think you can kick your ‘no relationship ever’ rule long enough to give this a chance?” He asks, eyes dancing.
“I keep telling everyone - it wasn’t ever!” I scowl, but then I grin again. “And I think I worked it out over the last few weeks…you’ve always been the other half of my life, Josh. And I’ve needed that, to do any of the things I’m doing. So…I think you’re good. I think this can only be a good thing - just so long as you don’t go all caveman on me.”
“Coming up with terms and conditions already, I see.” He teases, and then kisses me before I can retort.
Totally unfair - but far too welcome for me to object.
I have a feeling this thing is going to put a kink in my verbal sparring ability for a while.
I giggle as we break apart again, nibbling on his lips and then shaking my head as something occurs to me.
“You’ve known for a while, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“Idiot.” I shake my head. “Just think of all the time we wasted.”
