CLAM JAM

by RC Boldt

  I want a guy who will love me even when I have no makeup on and still tell me—and believe—that I’m beautiful.

  Ry’s response from that night was written right beneath mine. But it seems he’d added something to it; drawing an arrow from my response, he pointed it at something he’d added at the bottom.

  I want someone who will be cool with hanging out and watching movies we’ve seen a million times. Just to be with me.

  I know a guy who does. Who always has. From day one.

  My boss comes out of his office, rushing into mine and catching me staring down at an old wrinkled bar napkin before I quickly tuck it away. He gives me an update on his upcoming appointments and what materials he’ll need before he retreats to his office to make a few calls.

  Pulling the napkin back out, I find myself staring at it in wonder. He had kept it? After all this time?

  Glancing over at my office window a few feet away, I wonder if he’s in his office across the street, and if he’s watching me with those creepy binoculars. If he’s even in his office today.

  A call comes in from one of our more demanding clients, forcing me to push aside the note from Ry.

  * * *

  I’m reluctantly readying myself to have lunch at my desk yet again, since it’s already started out as one of those Mondays.

  One of our architects submitted his resignation notice—completely unexpectedly, I might add. Now, my boss has that vein on the side of his temple that looks like it will burst at any given moment. Which means it’s going to be a loooooooong day.

  The knocking on my door startles me just as I’m about to pull out my peanut butter sandwich—yes, I’m already imposing my cheapness now that I’m roommate-less—and glance up to see Jess at my door again.

  She’s holding an envelope similar to the one I received earlier this morning.

  This goes on three times a day—morning, lunchtime, and before the workday ends—for the remainder of the week. And I … I just don’t know what to think.

  I don’t want to admit that I crept into his room the other night. I’d curled up on his bed and cried because I miss him so much. Heck, even his sheets are still on the bed—guess he doesn’t need or want them—or his bed—back.

  I lay there and cried after I’d come home from work to find an envelope taped to the apartment door. Inside was another bar napkin, and I swear I can recall the conversation we’d had that night as if it were yesterday.

  “Is it wrong that I want the whole shebang? I want a guy who will not only love me for me, but someone who’s my best friend,” I’d told him.

  Looking back on that memory, I wonder if there had actually been yearning in his eyes, even then.

  “I want the exact same thing,” he’d said. And so I’d written:

  I want a guy who is not only the love of my life but my best friend, too.

  Beneath it, Ry had written:

  I want the same. Always.

  Now, though, beneath our writing was an addition.

  I love a woman who also happens to be my best friend. Except now, she doesn’t want to be that anymore since I messed up and broke her trust. I still love her, though. More than anything in the world. Always will.

  * * *

  It’s Saturday, and Sarah and I are having a rainy day TV-watching marathon. We’ve ordered takeout and have just started the next episode of Kimmy Schmidt—no eighties movies permitted since that had been more of a Maggie-Ry tradition—when there’s a knock on the door.

  I pause the show, get up, and grab my cash to pay the takeout guy. Except when I open the apartment door, no one is there. Glancing around and finding nothing and no one, I frown, stepping back to close the door when something catches my eye.

  There’s an envelope taped to the door.

  Another envelope.

  Darting another glance around the hallway, yet still finding no one around, I remove the envelope from the door and close it behind me. Walking back to the couch, Sarah looks over and notices the envelope, recognition lighting her face.

  “Another one?” she says with more excitement than I expect.

  “Yes,” I murmur as I sink back down on the couch, carefully opening and removing another napkin from the envelope.

  I want a guy who will be a goofball with me. One who will dance in the rain and kiss me. Just like in the movies.

  Ry’s response from that long ago night was:

  I want to kiss and dance in the rain and actually embrace being a dork with the one I love.

  There’s an arrow drawn from mine pointing to what he has recently added at the bottom.

  Come outside and dance in the rain with me. No kissing necessary. Please. Give me another chance?

  “What does it say?” Sarah asks quietly.

  Dazed, I hand it to her, watching as she reads it. Her eyes dart up to mine. “Are you going to go?”

  “What do you think I should do?”

  She offers a tender smile. “I know I wouldn’t be able to come up with any guys’ names who’ve gone to this much trouble to show how much they care and love you. That they’re sorry.” She pauses for a beat. “I think you’ll regret it if you don’t go down there.”

  She’s right. I know she’s right the moment she says it, but something still holds me back…

  “He loves you, Maggie.” Her tone is gentle. “I doubt he’d go to all this trouble”—she lifts up the napkin—“if he didn’t.” Tucking her blond hair behind her ear, her fingertips briefly touch her earlobe, triggering something in my memory.

  Wait a minute…

  Suddenly, my mind flashes back to that first meeting with Ry. When he’d talked about being in a relationship with Jack, he’d tugged on his left earlobe.

  Lie.

  He’d done the same thing when I’d asked him if he disapproved of me starting to date again.

  Lie.

  When I’d asked him where Matt had gone that one night in the bar, Ry had tugged on his earlobe when he’d come up with some excuse.

  Lie.

  Not once had his little “tell” shown up when he’d told me how he felt … When he’d told me he loved me, he never once tugged on his earlobe.

  He’d been telling the truth.

  “He really loves me,” I murmur, turning to stare at the stack of napkins on the counter that had been delivered over the past week.

  Sliding off the couch, Sarah flashes a smile, tugging me from the couch and steering me into the bathroom. “Of course, he does! Now, we have to get you looking a little more presentable for this.” Hastily, she applies some blush and a bit of gloss to my lips as I attempt to twist my hair up into a clip.

  Grabbing an umbrella and my raincoat from the closet, I slip it on along with my flats and give Sarah a quick hug.

  “If I don’t hear from you, I’ll assume everything worked out well.” She winks and slips out the door with a quick good-bye as I grab my keys. Two steps toward the door, I stop, thinking of something I should do first. Once I’ve done it, I lock up after myself.

  Taking a deep breath, I decide to take the stairs instead of the elevator, and the moment I burst through the door to the lobby, I feel like breaking into a full-on run to get to Ry. I rush out onto the sidewalk; I look both ways, trying to figure out where he’ll be and hoping he didn’t give up on me. But I don’t see him anywhere.

  Walking down the sidewalk, I try to use another storefront awning to help shield myself and my umbrella from the onslaught of rain, and I still don’t see him.

  “Darn it,” I grumble aloud.

  “I wasn’t sure you were going to come.” His deep, husky voice rolls over me, and I take a deep breath before turning to find Ry behind me.

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  Ry

  Ducking into one of the small alcoves of a nearby store in order to prevent being washed away by the crazy amount of rainfall, I really don’t think she’s going to show. Hell, no one with any sense is out here in these conditions, so I can’t
really blame Maggie for not wanting to show up—among the other more obvious reasons. Gazing down at the raindrops splashing heavily against the sidewalk, I physically jerk at the sound of her voice.

  “Darn it,” she grumbles loudly, her back to me a few feet away.

  Maggie. She came.

  Stepping from my spot, my hands are still deep in the pockets of my raincoat. “I wasn’t sure you were going to come.”

  Spinning around to face me, the wariness in her eyes guts me.

  “I really didn’t think you’d actually come,” I say, like a broken fucking record. I think I’m in shock that she’s actually here. In front of me.

  “Well, I figured I should thank you for all of the napkin notes.” She glances down at her shoes before raising her eyes to meet mine. Her gaze is less guarded, and she offers a hesitant smile. “I can’t believe you kept them all.”

  “I kept them because they matter to me.” Swallowing hard, I press on. “Because you matter to me.”

  Her lips part to speak, but I rush on. “I don’t think I can ever manage to apologize enough for lying to you, but I honestly just wanted to be with you—to be near you in any capacity. And, wow,” I break off with a chuckle, “that actually sounds far more disturbingly creepy than I expected.

  “I wanted to get a chance to know you without you feeling like you were getting hit on constantly. And I can’t say I regret that part of it. Because you were comfortable with me, and you didn’t have your guard up. You allowed me to see you—the real you. And that’s the Maggie I love.

  “I understand if you never want to see me again, but I wanted to apologize one final time—face to face. If you want me to leave you alone,” I pause, inhaling sharply at the pain the words cause me, “I will. You have my word on—”

  “Did you know that originally, Pretty in Pink was filmed with Andie and Duckie ending up together?”

  Caught off-guard and unsure of where she’s going with this, I hesitate. “Really?”

  She nods. Watching me, her expression is guarded, and she falls silent.

  “You once told me you wished she would’ve ended up with Duckie, her best friend.” I swallow hard past the lump in my throat. “Do you still feel the same way?”

  The silence drags long enough that my chest feels heavy, dreading her answer. Finally, she takes a small step toward me. Yet she’s still so far away.

  “I’ve always wanted to be the one who ends up with you,” she whispers.

  “I love you, Mags”—the words pour out of me—“so much.”

  Tipping her head to the side, she remarks softly, “Enough to keep all of the napkins, huh?”

  I flash her a sheepish smile. “I’m just relieved it wasn’t something a lot bulkier, or I would’ve had trouble storing those suckers.”

  “No napkin, now?”

  Her words throw me off. “What?”

  “You don’t have a final napkin?” Her eyes are lit with something that appears almost like mischief.

  “No,” I draw out the word slowly, uncertainly. “It’s raining cats and dogs out here so I just—”

  “What about this?” She holds out her hand, fisted, fingers uncurling around something, and I see that it’s a napkin with writing on it. Pinching it between her thumb and forefinger, she holds it so that I can read it.

  How long will you love me?

  I nearly laugh out loud with relief, a smile forming as I raise my own hand to show her what I wrote on my own palm. What I had written, the message I’d been prepared to show her regardless of the way this conversation had gone.

  I’ll love you forever.

  The moment she reads it, her eyes glisten with tears, and she tosses her umbrella to the side, launching herself into my arms.

  And I give her what I promised her.

  I kiss her in the rain, just like they do in the movies.

  Epilogue

  Ry

  Seven months later

  I’m waiting on her, sipping my drink at Irish Times while keeping an eye on the entrance. The moment she walks through the door, I wait for her eyes to find me. The moment they do—the moment our eyes meet—is just like that cheesy shit in the movies.

  And I get an equally as cheesy grin on my face because of it.

  Maggie slides onto the barstool with a long sigh. “Man, am I glad it’s Friday.” Leaning toward me, she meets me halfway for a soft kiss only for the bartender, Mike, to interrupt us when he sets down a napkin before placing her drink in front of her.

  Turning to her drink, Maggie raises the glass halfway to her lips when she notices it.

  There’s something written on her napkin. Picking it up, she reads what I wrote on it.

  I want to ask the woman I’m in love with—my best friend—to marry me. I hope she says yes.

  Maggie’s eyes dart up to meet mine, finding me watching her expectantly. The smile that spreads across her face is full of mischief.

  Taking a sip of her drink, she carefully sets her glass down on the bar, napkin still held in her other hand. Raising an eyebrow expectantly, she says, “Why don’t you check your napkin?”

  Drawing back in confusion, I turn, noticing our bartender has just placed a fresh napkin beneath my drink. Lifting the glass from it, I slide the napkin closer and see one word written on it.

  Yes.

  My head whips around to stare at her. “How did you—”

  “I didn’t.” She smiles, leaning in to kiss my lips as I sit, stunned. “I was just hoping. So I asked Mike to keep one stashed, just in case.” Maggie gives a little laugh and whispers, “There was another one, too.”

  “Oh?” I whisper back. “And what did that one say?”

  The way she smiles at me, the way her eyes light up, the corners crinkling … There’s not a more beautiful sight than this.

  “It said, ‘I love you. Now are you going to marry me or what?’”

  I barely get out a short laugh before she presses her lips to mine. I kiss the hell out of her right there in that bar before proudly sliding the diamond ring on her finger. And I can’t help but think …

  Who knew this much happiness could come from a little clam jamming?

  THE END

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you so much for taking the time to read this book! I’d love to hear what you thought about Maggie and Ry’s story. If you would be so kind as to leave a review on the site where you purchased the book, it would be appreciated beyond words. And if you send me an email at rcboldtbooks@gmail.com with the link to your review, I’ll send you a personal ‘thank you’!

  Please know that I truly appreciate you taking time from your busy schedule to read this book! If you’d like to stay up to date on my future releases, you can sign up for my mailing list via this link: http://eepurl.com/cgftw5

  Also by RC Boldt

  The Teach Me Series:

  Wildest Dream (Book One)

  Hard To Handle (Book Two)

  Remember When (Book Three)

  Laws of Attraction (Book Four)

  My newest standalone:

  Out of Love

  Stay Connected to RC Boldt:

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  Website: www.rcboldtbooks.com

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  Acknowledgments

  This book would have never been possible if it weren’t for the following individuals (in no particular order):

  My readers! The fact that I actually have readers is just … incredible!! Thank you for choosing to read these books. Without your support, your sweet emails and reviews, none of this would be possible. I am forever grateful.

  My husband, for being my everything.

  Sarah, my Australian BFF. Seriously. I don’t think I could’ve made it this far without you … or our WhatsApp texting, voice messages or phone dates. Thanks for letting me vent and brainstorm ideas with you. You’ve become such a treasured friend and I am incredibly grateful for you. I love you. Long time. ;)

  My incr
edible ‘pimpers’ galore and my street team—thank you for everything you do!!! You ladies are the best!!

  Amber G., I adore you and your gracious generosity! I’m so incredibly grateful for all of your help!!

  Boldt’s Beach Babes—you ladies are the most stellar individuals! I am beyond grateful for your support, excitement, and feedback when I share my ideas with you. I’m clearly biased but I think I have the best readers group!! Love you all!!

  All the book bloggers out there who have been so wonderful to me! I could never manage to truly show my gratitude for all of your support. Please know that the time you take to read and review my books and/or do promo posts is appreciated beyond words.

  My beta readers who spent their own time to comb through my book and help me refine it! You all are freaking stellar and I’m so grateful for your help!!

  Kata C., for being gracious beyond words to offer to do a third proofreading of this book. I love you, mi playa.

  Leddy H.—I’m convinced it was fate that led you to my signing table (and not Teresa, lol!) that day. To say I’m grateful for you and all of you help/insight would be a vast understatement. Love you!

  Ms. Jenny at Editing4Indies for helping to polish my writing and for catching things like how they went from sitting at a table one second to sitting at a bar the next … when the book includes zero magic or teleporting. LOL. Thank you!!!

  Ms. Marla at Proofing with Style for ensuring this book is as perfect as possible. Your eagle eyes are much appreciated!

  Ms. Letitia at RBA Designs for creating this gorgeous cover!!

  Ms. Stacey at Champagne Formats for being so patient, professional, having such a quick turnaround and, most of all, for putting up with me!

  My parents for making me. Now, you can go ahead and admit I’m your favorite. I won’t tell my brother. Promise.