A Moment for Us
Page 7
“You’re my friend, Delia. Above all else, I’ve always respected you.”
“Right . . . and you don’t now?”
“No. Yes, I mean, of course I do. I’m saying that I can’t treat you like you don’t matter. Whatever we’re doing, it’s . . . you’re . . . not nothing.”
“I know I should take solace in that, but you fail to realize something, Josh.”
“What’s that?” he asks.
“I have spent the better part of my life loving you, wishing that you would love me back. Then, the day I decide I’m really going to be over you, we have sex. I thought I could do it, but I don’t know how to fully compartmentalize what we’re doing. That leaves me with two options—either I keep you at a distance when we aren’t sleeping together or we stop sleeping together.”
“I don’t like either option.”
And I don’t know how to do both.
My mother returns, a wide smile on her face. “I have to go, can you drive me home, Deals?”
“Of course.”
Josh gets up and extends a hand to help me. I take it because I know if I don’t that’ll cause more of a fight.
“I’ll walk you out.”
Before I can refuse him, my mother loops her arm in his. “Thank you, I appreciate that.”
I pay Jennie, and she winks at me. Great, so much for keeping gossip to a minimum. When I get outside, Josh is leaning against my door.
Steeling myself from making a fool of myself, I walk over. “Excuse me.”
He moves, but his fingers wrap around my forearm. “I meant what I said.”
“I know you did. So did I.”
His thumb rubs the sensitive skin of my wrist. “What now?”
I look up into those blue eyes, hating that he can’t just love me. It would make it so easy. We’d be happy, I would give him my heart, and I would care for his in every way. Something changed Josh years ago, and I am not going to break down the walls he’s ensured are thick.
“Now, we’re at an impasse. It’s up to you whether we can ever bridge it.”
“What the hell is your deal?” Ronyelle asks as she walks into my office.
“Umm, what the hell is yours?”
“You haven’t said a word about your love life, and I’ve been left wondering for the last month.”
I laugh. “I have no love life.”
“Fine. Sex life.”
“I thought you didn’t want to know?” I ask, leaning away from the reports.
“I don’t.”
I raise one brow. “Really?”
“This is me, asking you, for your benefit. I imagine you haven’t told Jessica you’re sleeping with her brother-in-law, so I’ll be your best friend for this.”
“How kind of you.” I love her.
“That is what I am. Kindness incarnate. Now, spill it. Are you still sleeping with Josh or have you gotten your head on right?”
It’s clear she still feels that it was a mistake. Should make this conversation fun.
“We did . . . a few more times, but I’m done.”
“You’re done? Or is he done?”
I sigh, shaking my head. “I’m done. I was stupid, you were right.”
“I know I was right, but I’m curious what, exactly, I was right about.”
“I am not very good at pretending I don’t love him while having incredible sex.”
“No shit. Did you really think otherwise?”
“I tried to.”
Ronyelle grins. “Well, what made you see the light?”
The fact that we had an incident and I threw down the truth and Josh is avoiding it.
“I realized I deserve someone who loves me back.”
The fire that lingers in her eyes dims, and instead of her brutal honesty, I see empathy. “Oh, honey, are you okay with ending things?”
“I don’t think so.”
She sighs. “You need Jesus.”
“You need to fix me.”
“How do I fix you?”
I shrug. “You’re smart, you’ll figure it out.”
We both laugh. “I wish you had listened to me when I said it a month ago.”
Me too, but I thought I could handle it. She sits beside me, and I lean my head against her shoulder. “I’m a mess.”
“You got that right.”
“How did I fuck this up so bad?”
“You fell for Josh’s soul and there’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Other than it’s ruining my life.”
“That’s your choice, Delia. You don’t have to let what you feel dictate the future. You can decide right now that you’re not going to lie to yourself anymore.”
I want to believe that, but I’m not sure I can. “When I see him, all I think about is how good we feel together. It’s like this part of me can’t stop it. I want whatever I can get of him, and that’s so damn stupid.”
Ronyelle leans forward. “And what about you? What will be left of you if you keep lying to yourself about what you really want?”
A tear falls down my cheek. “I don’t know, and that’s what worries me.”
Chapter 11
Delia
They say time heals all wounds. They . . . are fucking liars.
I got a text from Josh this morning saying he missed me and wants to stop by. That was it. Two weeks of radio silence and . . . he misses me. What does that even mean? Does he miss the sex? My smile? My glowing personality? And why come by? Why keep torturing ourselves like this?
Because I miss him, and I am so damn tired of it. Yesterday was so bad that I had to put my phone in Ronyelle’s office to keep from texting him. At night, I dream of him. During the day, I think of him. The freaking man is taking up my brain while I’m trying to eradicate him. I have ached. Stupid, grumpy bastard he is.
He may miss me, but he doesn’t feel the same way I do. Which, hello, my brain already knew, but my dumb heart didn’t listen. Well, hope is dead and I am tired of waiting for a miracle.
Each mile to his RV, I get more worked up. I mean, who does this? Stupid men who have commitment issues, that’s who. I’m not going to allow this to happen. I need to end this right here and now. We are friends and that’s all this will ever be going forward. The friendship we had before didn’t have texts about missing each other.
I knock on the door to the RV. “Delia . . .” he says, his eyes wide. Josh steps down, closing the door behind him. “What are you doing here?”
“You wanted me to stop by and miss me?”
“You got my text.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “What do you miss?”
His gaze moves to the window of the RV. “What does that mean?”
“I’m asking what you miss. I’m asking why you would text me that after I told you how I felt.”
Josh sighs. “I missed you. I wanted you to know that.”
“Why?”
He moves closer to me. “Do you miss me?”
“No.” I lie.
He smirks. “Not even a little.”
“Nope.”
“Not the slightest amount?”
“I am going to punch you in the throat if you keep this up.”
Josh’s eyes flicker in the moonlight. “If you didn’t miss me, then you wouldn’t be here, but more than that, when we started this, I told you that I have wanted you for a long time. I wasn’t lying. You’re asking me to treat you like you don’t matter, and I can’t.”
Before I can come up with a response, there’s a loud thump that comes from inside the RV.
“What was that?”
“Nothing,” Josh says quickly.
“Is this a bad time?” I ask because he’s awful shifty.
Then he looks again, and it dawns on me. He has someone here and doesn’t want me to see. Why else would he be acting so weird, keeping me outside, and checking to be sure the woman he’s hiding away in his RV doesn’t hear. That bastard.
I am a complete and total fool.
“What?” Josh blinks a few times. “No. Who would I have here?”
“Did you get a cat?”
“Is this a trick question?”
It doesn’t matter anyway. I can’t get mad because he’s not my fucking anything. He doesn’t owe me fidelity and whatever is happening here is just too much for me. I wanted Josh, but I don’t want to force him into it.
“I shouldn’t have come here. I’m sorry that I interrupted your night with whoever you’re with.”
“There’s no one inside,” Josh says.
I huff, and it’s almost a laugh. “Please, Josh, don’t lie.”
“There’s no one in there.”
“Right,” I sneer.
“There is no one else I want.”
“You don’t want me either,” I say with a mix of defeat and acceptance.
“Go ahead and see, Delia. Open the fucking door and see.”
In the back of my mind, there’s a voice telling me that I’m crazy. I mean, I am outright losing my damn mind. I drove out here—to break up with the man I’m not even dating—all while he has some woman in his RV.
If this were a story Jessica was telling me, I’d call her a maniac.
But here I am, going up the steps.
I open the door, waiting for Josh to either stop me or the girl to come out.
But there’s nothing.
No one is here.
I move a little farther in, and there, on the floor by the table area, is a book.
A book I recognize the cover of.
It’s lying face down, which is a crime to any booklover, but there is no mistaking it for anything other than the romance novel I was reading last week.
I turn, and Josh pulls the door closed, watching me the entire time.
“Find anything?”
I raise my brow. “You know I didn’t.” I grab the book. “Well, other than this.”
He smirks. “Now you see what I was hiding.”
I lean against the table. “That you like romance novels?”
“I’ve never read one until now.”
“And?”
“I see why women like them.”
“Yeah? And why is that?” I ask.
Josh steps forward, his strides long and confident as he eats up the space between us. “Because, in the book, the guy is smarter and more intuitive about what the woman wants. He’s not afraid of love. Hell, this guy wants it so bad he’s willing to do anything for her. Is that what you want, Delia?”
I shake my head. “No. I know the difference between reality and fiction.”
“I didn’t ask about reality. I asked if this is what you want.”
That’s exactly what I want. I want Josh to give in. To take what I’m offering—my heart, my love, a chance—and love me.
His nose brushes against my cheek, and I fucking hate my body for the shudder it releases. “Josh . . .”
“I can’t give you that. If there were ever a woman who could make me crave it, it would be you.”
I close my eyes as the heat of his breath warms my cheeks. “But you can’t.”
“No.” A single syllable that says a million things.
“I wish you could.”
His lips move along my jawline. “I do too.”
I want to slap his chest and demand he try. Instead, I grip his shirt, tugging him against me, and fuse my lips to his.
My plan of telling him it was over goes to shit.
After the most sexually gratifying experience of my life, I’m in his bed, proving myself to be an idiot who can’t tell the wrong guy no.
Seventh time is the charm. This was it. It has to be.
“This is the last time,” I say.
“If you say so.”
I turn my head to him. “I do.”
“Okay.”
“You’re not even upset?” I ask, feeling a little miffed.
“I would be if I thought that were true.”
Ugh. I get up, pulling the sheet off the bed—and him. Which is a mistake because, damn that man is glorious when he’s naked. Or dressed. Really, it doesn’t matter.
“I came here with a plan,” I say as I drop the sheet and look for my pants. “I was going to tell you I didn’t want to do this anymore, get back over you, and start my life.” I shove my leg through the wrong pantleg and groan. “But no, you have to be reading . . . my book!” I keep ranting, again starting to wonder if maybe sex with Josh has done something to my sanity. “So, what happens?”
“You sleep with me?” Josh so unhelpfully answers my rhetorical question.
“Not again, buddy. No more sex for you and do you know why?” Josh puts his hands behind his head, staring up at me. “Because I need more, Josh. I need . . . I need to go,” I say now that I have my pants fully on. “I’m not doing this again. We’re not doing this again.”
“If you say so.”
I grab my book and sweater. “I do. I say so.”
“Okay then, as you said the last time, thank you for . . . this.”
I glare at him. “You are so not welcome.”
And with that, I make the dramatic exit I have dreamed of doing, with one arm in my shirt, which is still mostly bunched up around my neck.
Perfect.
Chapter 12
Delia
Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.
Can one say that too many times while staring at a pregnancy test?
A positive one.
No, I don’t think one can.
Oh. My. God.
This is false. It has to be. I’m on the pill. I’ve been on the pill for years, and . . . I can’t.
I let out a deep breath, fighting back the tears that are building, and decide that, today, I am not going to deal with this because I’m not pregnant.
I’m not.
That would be so much easier to believe if my period weren’t two weeks late.
I’m never late. Ever.
If there’s one thing about me, it’s that I’m so regular it’s not normal. Each day, I’ve pretended that it was fine, and it was nothing, but . . . it’s . . . not. Maybe.
Stella laughs loudly in the dressing room, and I hear Jess sigh deeply. This is supposed to be a day of stress-free fun. In a few days, Stella and Jack will have their second wedding, and it’s all amazing things.
Except now I want to cry, more stressed about those two little lines than I want to admit.
I peek out of the stall, making sure the coast is clear before I exit and toss the test into the trash. Winnie exits right after me.
I wash my hands, splash water on my face, and force a smile as Winnie does the same.
Stella enters, heading for the sink. She gasps. “Shit!” She stares at her hand. “My ring!”
“Relax,” Winnie says, “we’ll find it.”
Jess comes rushing in. “You lost your ring?”
Stella nods. “I had it on when we did toasts.”
“Okay.” Jessica is calm. “Did you have it when you got changed?”
She looks around, and we all do the same. “Yes. It has to be in here.” Stella’s panicked voice breaks.
We all search, getting on our hands and knees, looking over and under. I hear Stella yell. “It’s here! It must’ve flown off.”
Jessica stands there, holding something in her hand. Her gaze moves to each of us.
It’s my test. Oh, damn it. She must’ve looked in the trash, thinking Stella’s ring could’ve fallen there.
“Why are you holding a pregnancy test?” Winnie asks.
“It was right here,” she explains. “I’m . . . I mean, I’m seven months pregnant so we know I wasn’t taking it.”
I have to cover and not let anyone know it’s mine. Not until I know the truth and see a doctor. Jessica will . . . God, no one even knows Josh and I slept together.
&nbs
p; “Is it positive?” I ask.
“Yes,” Jess confirms. “So, which of you guys is pregnant?”
Stella looks around and shakes her head. “How do you know it was one of us?”
“Because this room was spotless when we came in, and we’ve been the only people here.” Jessica looks at Winnie, me, and then Stella.
I can see the confusion in everyone’s eyes. There’s not a chance I’m making it out of this without them figuring it out. Winnie is with the new guy, but she doesn’t seem worried, and Stella could be, but well, we both know she’s not.
Jess puts the test on the counter and turns to her sister. “Is it you, Win?”
“No!” she says quickly. “I have an IUD, and Easton wraps that shit up.”
“Deals?” Jessica asks.
I have to lie, and I don’t want to, but I can’t admit this. I shake my head, doing my best to act the same as the others. “No, definitely not. I’m not having sex, so I can’t really get pregnant.”
Stella stares at me, and I know she knows. Somehow, Stella Parkerson—well, O’Donnell now, knows the test is mine. And if she knows that, then she probably knows who the father is. Tears start to pool, and I beg her with my eyes to please just cover for me. I’ll figure everything out, but if it’s her, no one will question it.
Something passes between us, and Stella turns to Jess. “Yeah. I mean, you found out. It’s me. I’m . . . pregnant.”
“Oh my God!” Winnie yells and bounces up and down. “I am so happy. Does Kinsley know?”
Her eyes widen with genuine fear. “No, no one does, and you can’t tell her. Please. Not until I figure things out.”
“This is amazing.” Jessica smiles, her watery eyes brimming. “Our babies are going to be just a few months apart, and they’ll be best friends.”
“For now, can we not talk about this—at all?” Stella begs.
Jess grins. “Of course, we’ll be quiet.”
“Thank you.”
“Come on, let’s get back before Kinsley gets curious,” Stella says, already moving to pull the door open.
Jess and Winnie head out first, both of them smiling and giggling. My heart is racing, and I don’t know how to extricate myself from this—or Stella, but I will. I start to go, but as soon as I step, Stella’s hand grips my arm.