by A. J. Pine
He sat down, his knee bumping hers, and for a minute they just stared at the small pond in front of them. It was dark now, but the low lights by the water illuminated Jamie’s profile, and she peeked at him from the corner of her eye, watching his chest rise and fall.
Even though they’d grown up together, a part of her always saw him as the goofy skater boy from middle school. Never mind that the summer between freshman and sophomore year had been quite the transformation for him, a growth spurt combined with the added muscle mass he’d gained playing volleyball at the beach or pickup baseball games with his buddies. Jamie wasn’t a star athlete in high school, but he was good enough to hold his own in any sport he played. He just played for fun rather than to win, something she now saw as kind of noble. And sexy. But she hadn’t seen it then, or maybe she hadn’t let herself. She realized that hanging on to her initial vision of Jamie’s preteen self was her safety net. Not noticing him the way other girls did meant she wasn’t jealous, didn’t feel like she was missing out, because she had the part of him that mattered most.
“Why, Jamie? Why weren’t you honest with me?” she asked.
He put his arm across the back of the bench. Not around her, though. For how close they were sitting, both were noticeably trying not to touch, and her stomach twisted.
Too quick. It was all happening too quick, from the intensity of that first kiss to Jamie’s profession of a decade-long love, to him admitting he’d only offered to take her to L.A. in the hopes that something would happen between them. She couldn’t fault him for wanting what she knew they both wanted now. She just couldn’t quiet the tiny voice in her head that kept asking the same questions. If circumstances hadn’t thrown them together like they did today, what would have happened if they’d made it to Adrian and their room with two separate beds? What if they’d made it all the way to L.A.? Would he have told her then?
Sure, Brynn had an epiphany at Cadillac Ranch, but she also thought Jamie was taken. She rationalized her excuse for not speaking up before Frank and Dora asked them to kiss. But Jamie didn’t seem to have one other than doubt.
Jamie tilted his head back, and she followed his gaze to the full moon above them.
“Then or now?” he asked, making a feeble attempt at levity. “Fine,” he said, when she didn’t respond. “I’ll start with then. How was I supposed to compete with the guy who seemingly ticked off everything on your list?” he continued. “Football player: check. Band geek: check. Ace student in every AP class offered and even the ones they didn’t?” He looked at her then, and she rolled her eyes. “Don’t think I wasn’t aware he took Mandarin at the community college. Big, fat, fucking check.”
Brynn groaned and threw her hands in the air before standing from the bench. And yes, she poked Jamie in the eye when she did it, but whatever.
“I’m sorry!” The apology was a reflex. This was their dance—Brynn wild with exasperation and Jamie with an injury, most of the time not life-threatening. “But you kind of deserved that.” He didn’t protest, only wiped the involuntary tear away from his watering eye. “It’s not a competition, Jamie.”
He laughed, a bitter sound, one she hadn’t heard from him before.
“Really? Okay, let’s go to almost two weeks ago. I had called it off with Liz and was ready to tell you everything before I walked into my office that night.” Her stomach lurched again. “So don’t tell me it’s not a competition. If you had ever looked at me the way you looked at him, you would have seen right through me. You would have known. It took a Goddamned fever to make you delirious enough to see clearly, and even then it was only because I was there and he wasn’t.” He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, and when he looked up at her, her heart staggered a beat. She’d been so focused on her own retroactive hurt that she never thought about it from his perspective, what it must be like to love someone from afar and watch her fall for someone else.
“Do you see it? When you look at me now, do you have any doubt how I feel?”
She shook her head. Of course she had no doubt. But that didn’t change what still ate at her, that he would have let fear keep them from what felt undeniably right if she hadn’t opened her mouth and turned a fake kiss into something more real than she’d ever felt before.
“But if my ‘delirium’…” Okay, maybe the finger quotes were a little much, but this was the part she couldn’t get past. “If I hadn’t asked you to kiss me, you would have been some stupid martyr and never told me how you felt? You would have done the same thing this week, letting me believe you were with someone else?”
Jamie raked his fingers through his hair. “You would have gone to that party, and everything would have been different. You would have chosen him.”
“You don’t know that, Jamie. After that night, I chose you, and you pushed me away. I know you needed a friend more than anything when your parents were splitting, but I could have been both. I could have been your friend, and I could have been more. But you can’t use what happened a decade ago to fuel that same fear now. It’s not fair—not to you or to me.”
He raked his hand through his hair.
“But you never told me that, B. You never told me how you felt.”
God. He was right. She’d been plenty vocal about her crush on Spencer a decade ago, and the night of the reunion she’d done everything short of skywriting her intentions to finally act on it. Here she was, casting this blame on him, and she’d done the same thing. Hadn’t she? She’d lied to herself, willing her feelings for him to bury themselves somewhere deep, and in doing so, she’d lied to him, too.
Jamie stood with a start, something alight in his eyes, but it didn’t comfort her. It scared her. She stepped back when he approached because she wasn’t about to let him kiss away the anger and the hurt. She wasn’t ready for that, but she knew if his lips got close enough she’d be a goner.
…
Damn it. How could he not see it? Ten years ago, ten days ago, three days from now—in every scenario Jamie was the same guy, the interruption to the regularly scheduled program. But he was never, not for Brynn at least, the first choice. He wasn’t a choice at all. He was her fallback, the stand-in. She was more than ready to give herself to Spencer in every way until a meddling B&B-owning couple demanded that they kiss. She was right to ask the question. If they hadn’t kissed ten years ago—if they hadn’t been pressured to put on a show for Dora and Frank—would they ever have?
“How do you know it’s really me you want if you don’t see things through with him?” he asked. “You need to go to L.A.”
She groaned. “I can ask you the same thing, Jamie. How can you be sure? You were actually with someone else. I was just chasing after a chance at being happy after you convinced me the Brynn and Jamie ship had already sailed. But guess what? I’ve found it where I didn’t know I could. With you.”
He cupped her cheeks in his palms. She pressed into one of them like a reflex, and it gutted him.
“I’ve always known it was you, Brynn. I was an idiot about it more than once, and yes, I may have been less than honest. But it’s because there’s always been this other person hanging between us.”
He didn’t doubt that she was heartbroken ten years ago, but so was he. The only difference was that either way, mono or not, Jamie would have gotten crushed, either by her choosing Spencer or the two of them ultimately crumbling like his parents did. As much as he loved her, he was convinced that saving their friendship was his only choice. Brynn getting sick just let him know what he was missing.
“God, you’re an ass,” she said. And she was probably right, but that didn’t change what had held him back. “I get you pushing me away before because you were scared. But where does that put us for the last decade? If I can trust your feelings even after keeping me at a distance all these years, why can’t you trust mine? I don’t get it. I got upset about you being dishonest, but I still know I love you.” She shook her head. “And now you want me to go to L.A.,—to him�
�despite how I feel. Why do you keep running from this? From us?”
No, Jamie thought. This wasn’t running. This was fighting.
“Why didn’t you tell me about the text?”
Brynn’s eyes grew wide, and she staggered back. Scratch what he said before. This admission of guilt—this is what gutted him.
“What?” she asked.
“The text, Brynn. First we kissed. And then there was the mind-blowing sex—thank you very much for that, by the way. And then Spencer texted you about the room he reserved.”
Ugh. Jamie inwardly recoiled at himself because this was a new low, but it was the only way to make her see that he wasn’t the only one hiding the truth, which meant she hadn’t really chosen. Not yet. As much as he wanted Brynn, he needed her to be sure.
“Jamie, you had no right—”
“I know, and as soon as I realized it was your phone I grabbed, instead of mine, I put it down. But I can’t unsee what I saw or forget that I asked you what was up in the hallway, and you said nothing about Matthews texting you. You can’t storm out of a room because of my lapse in honesty and then not own up to doing the same. Yes. I lied, but not because I wasn’t sure how I felt. I broke up with Liz because I loved you. I don’t think that’s why you kept Spencer’s text from me.”
He had to admit that he’d found reason upon reason to postpone telling Brynn how he felt. He let her believe he was still with Liz this whole time because it all boiled down to the only way the rest of this could play out. He had to take her to Spencer. If Brynn never had the chance to choose Spencer, then Jamie could only ever be her default, living in the shadow of what broke the trust between them time and again. He wanted Brynn to love him by choice, not because he was there and someone else wasn’t.
“I’m taking you to L.A.,” he said, hoping his resolve wouldn’t waver. They still had two more days.
“To Beer Fest, with you. I just need to text Spencer—”
He shook his head. “To the book launch.”
“So, you’ll come with me?” she added, but the fact that the statement came out as a question told him she knew where this was going.
“You need to see this thing through, B. On your own. It’s the only way you’ll know for sure how you feel, and that I’ll know you have zero doubt about choosing me.”
He stepped back, ready for a gesture that could second as an act of violence against him, and her hands went wild.
“You’re deranged, Jamie! Do you know that? You can’t be serious.”
“Serious as Gary Oldman in a velvet overcoat.”
Brynn’s hands fisted at her sides, and she seemed to be stifling a scream.
“You will not use Sirius Black’s name in vain to validate your insanity.”
He shrugged. Either way it was madness. They’d both violated their trust in each other. If they moved forward from here, he’d never truly know if he was her first choice, and she’d never believe he wouldn’t get swallowed up by fear again. If they continued on to the original destination, he was handing her off to another guy, one who could quite possibly sweep her off her feet. But that was saying Fuck you to the fear, wasn’t it? The only way for her to make a choice was to present her with both options, even if she thought he was nuts. They had to put this behind them—to rebuild their trust and have faith that their love would make things right in the end. They needed to see it through, for both of them.
Jamie braced his hands on her shoulders. Brynn was shivering. She didn’t flinch when he closed the remaining space between them, when his lips connected with hers. No, she opened her mouth and welcomed him in. He tasted salt and knew she was crying, but that just made him hold her tighter.
She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his chest. “I love you, Jamie. And if this is what you need, I’ll do it. But you have to know it’s not what I want.”
He kissed the top of her head.
“If we don’t follow through with the original plan, I’ll always wonder. And you might, too.”
He kissed her again, not giving her a chance to protest further. Come the weekend, he might lose her for good. But how much worse would it be six months from now? A year from now? Jamie rationalized that recovery time would be shorter if he didn’t let himself fall too deep for too long.
He kissed her wet cheeks, her salty eyes, and then gave her his patented kiss on the forehead. They would be together for two more days, but it already felt like they were saying good-bye.
“I do love you,” she said, burying her head in his neck. “You believe that. Don’t you?”
He stroked her hair, her back, wishing this could be easier.
He nodded. “And I love you. But this isn’t how it was supposed to happen. I should have been honest from the start, but it should also go both ways. The past ten years will always be between us if we don’t see this through. I don’t want to be the guy who stood in the way if there is someone who could make you happier than I could.”
That was the truth. She meant enough to him that her happiness came first. He didn’t add that it would ruin him, though, if she fell for someone else. That much honesty wouldn’t be fair if he was going to see this through.
He backed away. “I think there are some extra pillows and blankets in the closet. I’ll take the floor tonight.”
“Jamie…”
“I love you, Sleepy Jean.”
But he didn’t wait to hear her say it again. His determination was wearing thin as it was. He just had to make it through two more nights and two more days on the road. With Holbrook being a regular stop on the trip, Jamie had booked a room ahead at the touristy Wigwam Motel. Two beds. After that, L.A.
Despite the cold outside, Brynn waited until he was in his makeshift bed on the floor to return. He closed his eyes and pretended to sleep, sure she knew it was an act, but neither of them broke character. He heard muffled conversation from the bathroom and assumed she was filling Holly in on the latest turn of events.
When he finally started to drift off, he heard the sound of a door’s latch opening and then quietly closing. He sprang upright to see the bed empty. When he looked at his phone to check the time, only ten o’clock, he saw a text waiting.
Brynn: Dora and Frank had a room to spare. Don’t worry. I’ll pay for it. I know we have a long drive tomorrow, so I’ll meet you at the truck at eight. You need to be well rested for the drive.
Jamie: OK.
He collapsed back on the floor, the pillow not enough to cushion his head against the force of his frustrated momentum.
“Shit,” he said, rolling to his side and massaging his now throbbing skull. Then he settled back into position, prepared for a less-than-restful night’s sleep, the bed remaining empty till morning.
…
“Please,” Jamie said. “I insist.”
Dora shook her head. “That room would have sat empty last night. Now at least it was put to good use.”
Jamie looked at Brynn waiting by the door.
“I’m not so sure about that,” he said. “I’d also like to take care of her room.”
“Oh, hush,” Dora said. “That’s between her and me. As for the two of you, married or not, it’s as good a love story as I’ve ever heard. Y’all just haven’t gotten to the happy ending yet.”
He sighed. They’d reached an ending, all right. But it was far from happy.
“Thank you. It’s too generous.”
She pulled something from behind the counter. “Here. You almost forgot this.”
In a freezer-size Ziploc bag, Dora handed him what she’d found this morning in the Garden Cottage’s trash can—the lucky bouquet.
He had no choice but to take it. He’d insisted on carrying both their bags, so Jamie zipped it into the one empty spot in Brynn’s bulging suitcase, the outer front pocket. It would get crushed no matter what. This way it would be crushed and contained.
“Don’t waste it,” she said.
Frank snuck up from behind an
d threw an arm over Jamie’s shoulder.
“So you’re not married, huh?”
“No,” Jamie said. “I’m sorry we lied.”
“Aw, hell,” Frank continued. “Enough with the apologizing. Make it up to us by making things right with that girl.”
“Lasso the moon for her,” Dora added.
Jamie’s eyes widened, but there was no way Dora knew about his plan for this weekend. “I’m not sure I’m the one who’s supposed to,” he said.
Dora laughed. “Silly boy. The one who can lasso the moon is the one who is supposed to lasso the moon.”
Jamie’s brows pulled together. He wasn’t sure where this metaphor was going, so he thanked the couple again, these people who knew him and Brynn for a minute and seemed to have more confidence in their relationship than he’d had in a decade.
“Come see us if you ever pass through Amarillo again,” Frank said.
Jamie pulled the brim of his Sox cap down in what he hoped was a gesture akin to tipping his hat.
“Will do,” he said and headed to the door. “Wait.” He turned back toward the couple. “Please tell me you have a gas station and an ATM nearby. We’re out of, well, everything.”
Frank smiled. “Hang a left when you head out. One mile up on your right, both in the same place.”
Jamie filled the tank and replenished his wallet. He may have hid an extra twenty dollar bill apart from the rest of his cash, but he didn’t think Brynn was in the mood to hear that he’d heeded her ludicrous advice. She hadn’t said anything before they got in the truck. Now it seemed like the window to break the ice was closing. They grabbed coffee, snacks, and cash inside the shop at the gas station before getting on the road, and once they hit the highway, that proverbial window felt sealed shut.
It was a seven-and-a-half hour ride to Holbrook, Arizona, and for seven and a half hours, neither of them said a word.
Chapter Twenty-Two
As the tires of the truck crackled through the gravel parking lot, Brynn felt the deceleration of the vehicle and roused from one of her many naps.
