He holds my shoulders, his eyes on mine. "Jen, no. You have to go. You have to at least interview. See if you like the place and the people who work there. See if it feels right. You have to have all that information before you make a decision."
"But none of that will change the fact that I want to be with you."
He brings me into his arms. "I want to be with you too." I hear his voice crack. He takes a deep breath. "We'll figure something out. Just go to the interview, and if you get the job, we'll figure it out then. Until we know anything for sure, I don't want to talk about this, okay?"
"Okay," I whisper, a tear sliding down my cheek.
We remain there on the couch, not saying anything. We need to talk about this, but like Bryce said, we don't have to do it right now. I need time to think. I need to figure out what I want to do. If I were with any other guy, this wouldn't be an issue. I'd explain that I needed to take this job and that would be it. But Bryce isn't just some guy. He's the guy I've known for almost my entire life. The guy I love. My best friend.
He spends the night, and the next day, which is Friday, I go to his place for the weekend. The fun, happy mood we're usually in has changed to a sad, quiet mood that's depressing for both of us.
Friday night we go to a movie and try to act like everything's fine, but then give up trying to cover up our sadness and spend the rest of the weekend curled up in bed or on the couch, because being close is the only thing that makes us feel better.
On Tuesday morning, I fly to Denver, overwhelmed with a mix of emotions; excitement, fear, sadness, and others I can't quite identify. I'm an emotional mess right now, and tired because I didn't sleep last night.
When I land, I text Bryce to let him know I made it. I don't call him because hearing his voice would make me miss him, and miss home, which would make it even harder to get through this interview.
A driver picks me up at the airport, and when I get to the office building, Tracy meets me at the reception desk. She's probably in her late twenties, tall and thin with long, silky black hair and black-rimmed glasses. She's wearing a black pantsuit and black high heels.
She smiles widely and extends her hand. "Welcome. I'm Tracy. How was your flight?"
"It was good."
I barely get the words out before she pivots on her heels and starts walking really fast toward the stairs. "Follow me."
As I look around the first floor, I notice everyone is walking fast and talking on their phones. Their frantic pace makes me even more nervous, but maybe that's just how it is in the corporate world. I wouldn't know because I've never been in this type of environment.
Tracy takes me to her office, which is just a basic cubicle, and we sit down and begin the interview. She talks fast, firing off questions. I try to keep up and answer the best I can. I relax a little as I talk about my classes because my classes remind me of home, which reminds me of Bryce. I feel so far away from him right now. It's just a couple hours by plane but seems so much farther, like we're millions of miles apart. It's a feeling I don't like. One I don't want to feel. And yet I really need this job.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Bryce
"How'd it go?" I ask Jen.
She's at the Denver airport, waiting for her flight back to Chicago. My heart's going a million beats a minute waiting for her answer. Do I want her to get the job? Shit, not really. Actually, no, I don't. I know I'm an ass for saying that but I don't want her to leave. I used to tell myself I did, but now that it's actually happening, I don't want her to go. But I promised myself I'd support whatever she wanted to do. Her happiness is all I care about, so if this makes her happy, then I need to let her go.
"It went really well," she says.
Fuck. I knew it. I knew she'd do great at that interview. I knew she'd impress them. She's smart, funny, beautiful. They'd be crazy not to hire her.
"That's great." I try to sound enthusiastic.
"Yeah. I met with Tracy first, then interviewed with three other people, and after that they introduced me to the other people in the accounting department."
"You must be exhausted."
"I am. I'm so tired. I could barely keep up with these people. They walk fast, they talk fast, they do a million things at once. I got tired just watching them."
The wait is killing me. I need to know if she got it.
"So did they make you an offer?"
"Not yet. They said they'd get back to me sometime next week, but from the way they were talking, I'm pretty sure I'll get it. They just need to do the usual HR stuff before they make the offer. Background checks. References. That type of thing."
What do I say? Congratulations? I still don't know if she wants it. She's not saying much.
"What did you think of the job?" I ask.
"It's a good job. I'd be able to do a lot of different things and I'd be assigned a mentor so I wouldn't be totally lost the first few months. And the work I'd be doing sounded interesting."
"Are there other people your age there, or is everyone older?"
"In the accounting area, there were some guys a few years older than me, and Tracy said a guy who interned with them last semester will be working there after he graduates."
All guys. Great.
"They just called my name on the loud speaker. I think they're switching my seat. I probably can't call you back because we're starting to board. I'll see you at the airport?"
"Yeah. I'll be there. Bye."
It sounds like she wants the job. She wasn't screaming with excitement, but she didn't sound down about it either.
My phone rings and I answer it, assuming it's Jen. "Hey, that was fast."
"Bryce? This is Rita."
I sigh, wishing I hadn't answered. "What do you want?"
"Have you talked to my girl?"
"Yeah. She's getting on the plane."
"Why didn't she call me?"
I roll my eyes. "I don't know, maybe because she doesn't want to talk to you?"
"You better start showing me some respect," she snaps. "I'm not putting up with your attitude anymore." Rita's been on this respect kick ever since she started hanging out with Mark.
"I don't respect you, Rita. And I never will."
"Then you're never going to be with my daughter. I'll make sure of it. You better enjoy this little lovefest while you can because it's not gonna last."
"What's not gonna last is Jen being your servant. She's done being bossed around by you. And if she takes this job, you'll never see her again."
"She got the job?" I hear the panic in Rita's voice.
"Not yet, but she probably will. So you better get used to doing things yourself. And paying for them yourself."
"She'll always help me, even if she moves away. If I ask her, she'll send me money."
"Not if I tell her not to. She's sick and tired of paying your bills and I'm going to convince her to stop doing it."
"So you're the reason she wouldn't buy my groceries last week?"
I smile, because I didn't know that. I assumed Jen went over there and dropped them off, like she normally does.
"I didn't tell her to do that, but yeah, we've talked about it. And I'm going to get her to stop paying your bills too."
"So you're trying to turn my own daughter against me?"
"I don't have to. You're doing it yourself. Jen is finally seeing how you use and control her."
"She only thinks that because you told her that. You're brainwashing her."
"If that's what you want to believe, then fine. But it's not going to change anything. Jen's gonna keep pulling away from you, especially if you keep demanding things from her. I don't have time to talk about this. I have to go." And then I hang up on her.
The fact that Jen didn't buy her mom's groceries last week is a big step for her, but she still needs to do more. At her apartment, I saw two of her mom's bills sitting on the counter, which Jen obviously plans to pay. And she filled her mom's gas tank last weekend, which pissed me
off, but I kept quiet about it because Jen was stressing about this interview and I didn't want to add to her stress.
It's almost ten when I get to the airport. I wait for her just past the security exit, and when I see her, I know her decision. She was trying to hide it from me on the phone, but now that I see her face, I know. She wants the job. I can tell by the way she's nervously chewing on her lip and won't look me in the eye.
"Bryce." She hugs me tighter than normal, which just confirms it. If she gets this job, she's taking it. She's leaving.
It's what I wanted for her. It's exactly what I wanted. So why do I feel like someone just punched me in the gut? Like I can't breathe? Like the only thing that matters to me is being ripped away?
Other passengers from the plane race around us on their way to baggage claim. But Jen and I remain in a tight embrace, like we haven't seen each other in years.
Some guy's backpack bumps my arm. "Sorry about that," he says as he continues walking.
The interruption makes us slowly back away. I put my hand on the side of Jen's face and kiss her. "I missed you."
She half-smiles. "I missed you too."
She looks like she's about to cry. Shit. We have to get out of here before I break down crying myself. I never cry. I cried when my mom died and that's it. So the fact that I feel like I could drop tears any minute now just shows what this is doing to me. I can't lose her. I can't even think about losing her.
I take her carry-on bag from her and hold her hand. "You ready to go?"
She nods. As we're walking to my truck, she says, "Can I stay with you tonight?"
I stop and turn to her. "You can always stay with me. You never have to ask. You know that, Jen."
She looks up at me. "Then I want to stay you with every night until..." She bites her lip to keep from crying.
Fuck. She's really doing this. She's really going to move. This is real. Fuck!
I bring her into my arms and just hold her there. When her shaky breathing becomes stable again, I take her hand and we walk in silence until we reach my truck. When we're both inside, seat belts fastened, I start the engine and hear Jen beside me.
"I don't want to talk about it," she says, staring straight ahead.
I'm holding her hand and I gently squeeze it. "Then we won't talk about it."
She sniffles, then turns her head and looks out the side window and is quiet all the way back to my apartment. As soon as we go inside, she goes straight to my bedroom. When I walk in there, I see her searching my closet for a sweatshirt. She finds one, and I watch as she quickly takes off the black dress she wore for her interview, then slips on my sweatshirt. Just having it on makes her shoulders relax and relief cross over her face.
She goes in the bathroom and brushes her teeth.
"You okay?" I ask, standing by the door.
She sets her toothbrush back in the holder and dries her hands on the towel behind her.
"I just want to go to sleep," she says, going past me to the bed.
A few minutes later, I slide in next to her wearing just my boxer briefs. I know we're not having sex tonight but I want to feel her skin against mine. I tug her against my body and kiss her head.
"I love you," I whisper.
"I love you too," she whispers back. She buries her head in my chest and I feel the wetness from her silent tears.
Why did we wait so long to be together like this? We're finally together and now she's leaving.
This is all my fault. I'm such a fucking idiot. I kept her away, thinking it was for the best, but was it really? Because right now, I can't imagine anything better than this. Than having Jen in my arms, in my bed, in my life. It's what I want. I want her here. With me. But is staying here what's best for her and her future?
That thought keeps me awake for the next two hours until I finally fall asleep. My alarm goes off at five, like it normally does, and I take Jen back to her apartment, then head to the job site. I'm still working on that three season room over on Jackson Street. It should be finished this week. Austin's been working alongside me every day, so he knows what's been going on with Jen. I told him not to tell Dad or our brothers until I know for sure if she got the job.
"Hey," Austin says as I walk past him. "I got you a coffee."
I see it sitting on one of the paint cans. "Thanks."
It's only six forty-five so the rest of the crew hasn't arrived yet. I take my coffee and sit on the floor, leaning against the wall.
Austin sits next to me. "So how'd it go?"
"She got it." I rub my forehead, trying to ease my pounding headache that's either caused by stress or lack of sleep or both.
"They already offered her the job?"
"No. But I know they will. They wanted her even before she interviewed. She said they'd get back to her next week."
"Is she gonna take it?"
"She didn't say, but I know she wants the job, so yeah, I think she'll take it. It may be her only option. She's been sending out resumes for months and heard nothing back."
"So what does this mean?" he asks cautiously, noting the tension I'm giving off. I'm so wound up right now I probably look like I'm about to explode. I'm not angry. I'm just on edge, feeling like everything's spinning out of control.
"I don't know." I take a drink of my coffee.
"Denver's not that far. And they have direct flights from Chicago."
"It won't work." I shake my head. "That long distance shit never works. It may work for a month or two, but then things change and people move on and eventually it ends."
"But this is you and Jen. You guys are different. You're best friends. You love each other."
"It's not enough. We have to be able to see each other." I take a deep breath and rest my head back against the wall. "If she takes this job, it's over."
"Maybe she won't take it."
"She has to take it. It's a good job. A good opportunity. She needs to take it."
He doesn't offer up any more advice because he knows it won't help. The situation is what it is and there's nothing more to say about it.
The crew arrives and they, too, can tell I'm not myself. I don't joke around with them like I usually do and the few times I talk, it comes out sounding angry, so everyone keeps their distance and just does their work. We work seven to four, but when the crew leaves at four, I stay behind. So does Austin.
"You can go," I tell him.
"Why don't we go do something? I know it's early but you want to go to dinner? There's that brewery a couple miles from here."
He's trying to cheer me up and I appreciate the effort. I love my brothers. I really do. We used to fight a lot as kids, but as adults, we've come to appreciate each other. I can always count on them no matter what, and when Jen is gone, I'll need them to help me get through it. But right now, I'm not ready for their help. I need to be alone.
"Dinner's on me," he says. "I got a shitload of tips last night. Some drunk girls were throwing money on stage, trying to get us to keep playing."
"I forgot you played last night." I gather up the paintbrushes and set them on the ladder. "Sorry I missed it."
He shrugs. "Don't worry about it. You don't have to go every time I play. Besides, I knew you had to pick up Jen. So how about dinner? You up for a burger and some beer?"
Jen has to work until seven and I really don't want to sit at home alone so I agree to it. "Sure. Let's get out of here."
We go to the restaurant and order some beers. Austin doesn't usually drink during the week. It's part of his strict nutrition plan. No alcohol on weekdays, then splurge on the weekend. But even his splurge isn't that much. A few beers or some shots of hard liquor. He usually doesn't do much more than that, but tonight he's having a beer to commiserate with me.
"You going over to Jen's later?" he asks, then quickly says, "Sorry, I shouldn't talk about her. I'm trying to get your mind off her."
"It wouldn't work. She's all I can think about." I half smile. "But thanks for trying. You're
a shithead sometimes, but overall you're a pretty decent brother."
"Back at ya, man," he says, then swigs his beer.
"Bryce?" I feel a hand on my shoulder and turn around to see a girl standing there. She's tall and thin and has that goth look; jet black hair, her eyes outlined with thick black lines, and a piercing in her eyebrow.
"Yeah." I turn more so I'm facing her. "Do I know you?"
"No, but I'm friends with Jen. I go to school with her. I saw you guys having lunch a few weeks ago and I um," she smiles, in a flirty way, "asked her about you." She comes around to the side of my barstool. "I'm Natalie." She holds out her hand, and as we shake hands, I notice her black fingernails and the tattoo on her wrist.
I get hit on a lot by girls like her. They assume I'm attracted to them because of my tats. Maybe that's true for other guys covered in ink, but it's not true for me. I don't like the goth look. There's nothing wrong with it. I'm just not drawn to girls like that.
"I was thinking we could go out sometime." She puts her hand on my knee and I immediately turn forward again, causing her hand to drop.
"I'm dating Jen," I say forcefully.
"You are?" she asks, as if the very idea doesn't make sense. A guy like me with someone like Jen? It's that assumption that was one of the many reasons I didn't date Jen all those years. Because I knew people would react to us that way. As if we didn't belong together. As if I'm not good enough for her. But now? I don't give a shit what people think.
"He's been dating Jen for weeks," Austin says since I didn't respond.
"Oh." Natalie backs away. "Sorry, I didn't know."
"It's no problem." I glance at her. "I'll see you around."
"Yeah. Bye." She walks off.
Austin chuckles as he watches her leave. "You and the goth chicks."
"Yeah, I know." I swig my beer.
"She's pretty hot, though."
"Then why don't you go after her? Go ask her out."
"I don't like the goth thing either. She'd have to get rid of all that black shit around her eyes."
Even if she didn't have the goth look, I still wouldn't be attracted to her. Because I don't want Natalie, or any other girl. I only want Jen. She's it for me.
Can't Let You Go: A Wheeler Brothers Novel Page 25
