by Noelle Adams
“I certainly do,” Jace said cryptically.
“Anyway, I can’t even remember the last time I was set up on a date. Joanne and I were together for six years, and ever since the divorce…well…I haven’t really been comfortable with the thought of dating. I mean, Joanne and I were high school sweethearts. So she’s the only woman I ever…you know.”
Oh good lord. TMI!
“You should be honest with Isabella. Tell her that. I’m sure if she knows how nervous you are about this being your first time out since the divorce, it will go a long way in relaxing her.”
“You think so?”
“Sure.”
He had no idea. All he knew was that if he was out on a date with a woman who admitted to never having been on a date with anyone but her ex, he’d be majorly uncomfortable. He only hoped that Isabella felt the same way.
Greg looked at his watch and stood. “I need to get back to it. Thanks again for the advice, Jace. You’re a good friend.”
He wasn’t so sure about that. What he was was desperate.
“No problem, Greg. Good luck and have a good weekend!”
Five
Isabella’s eyes glazed over as Greg launched into another endless diatribe about exactly what was wrong with D.C. politics.
She was only mildly interested in politics in the best of times, and this kind of useless discoursing always drove her crazy.
Everyone seemed to want to fix politics by talking about it. Very few people wanted to get involved and actually work at it. Greg was clearly no exception.
She tried to smile and nod politely, glad at least she didn’t have to participate in the conversation any more than humming encouragingly every once in a while. She didn’t understand why more guys couldn’t be like Jace—who always asked her questions, listened when she spoke, wanted to hear what she had to say.
It had been fifty minutes now since they’d sat down at this table in a Thai restaurant in the town over from Preston. She hated Thai food, so that was a bad sign from the very beginning. Fortunately, she’d suggested they meet here, so as soon as dinner was over, she could get into her car and escape.
“Oh,” Greg said, evidently noticing at last that she was amusing herself looking at other diners in the restaurant. “I’ve been doing all the talking. What do you think?”
What did she think? About what exactly? About anything in the world?
That was as useless a question as “how are you?”
“I agree with you,” she said with a little smile, deciding that was easier than making any sort of claim that could encourage him to launch into another political rant. “It’s too bad everyone doesn’t agree.”
He smiled, as if she’d said exactly the right thing, and she tried not to roll her eyes.
He seemed a nice enough guy, and he was decent looking. If he didn’t feel obliged to fill every moment of the conversation with political talk, she might actually like him.
“Do you want dessert?” he asked.
“No, thank you. I’m really full. This was delicious.” She pushed her mostly empty plate to the side in a clear gesture that she was finished.
“Oh. What about some more wine?”
“No, thank you. I’ve had enough, since I’ll need to drive home.”
“I can drive you ho—”
“No, no. I’m fine. Thank you.”
Greg sighed, his shoulders slumping. “That doesn’t sound very promising. Have I made a mess of the date then?”
She suddenly felt bad for her attitude. It wasn’t Greg’s fault he was boring as hell, and she didn’t like hurting anyone’s feelings. “No, no. It’s not that. I guess I’m just kind of tired tonight. You seem like a really nice guy.”
“Thanks.” He gave a huff of amusement. “No need to sugar-coat it. If you don’t like me, you don’t like me. The truth is I haven’t had much experience in dating.”
“Really?” She was surprised and genuinely interested, since men didn’t usually talk like that on dates.
“Yeah. I’ve only ever dated one woman seriously. My ex. I’m…I haven’t gotten around much.”
From his tone, she suddenly realized what he was talking about. Not just about dating. He was implying he’d only ever slept with one woman.
The strangest thing was she liked him better now than she had before. It felt like he was being real, being honest.
She liked that trait in a man.
“Well, that’s okay. It’s not like I’ve been a social butterfly or anything. Everyone has different experiences.”
“So you don’t think it’s weird or… or pitiful?”
“Why would it be pitiful?” she asked. “I actually think it’s kind of nice—that you take relationships seriously, I mean.”
He smiled at her, and she smiled back.
She still wasn’t really attracted to him, and she didn’t think there was much potential after the tedious dinner they’d just had, but she felt better about him now. She liked him as a person. She was glad to have met him.
“So you might consider going out with me again?”
“Maybe,” she said, not wanting to trap herself by being too nice. “I mean, maybe something friendly and casual. Just as long as you don’t spend the whole time talking about politics.”
He blinked in surprise and then smiled. “It’s a deal.”
***
Since their dinner ended early, it was just nine o’clock when Isabella drove back to Preston. By instinct, she steered her car toward Jace’s apartment building.
When she saw his car in its place, she parked in a visitor space and got out.
Her first instinct was always to go see Jace, whenever anything noteworthy happened to her—even a very strange date.
It occurred to her as she was walking toward the building that things would have to change between her and Jace when one or the other of them finally was in a serious relationship. They couldn’t keep hanging out together all the time the way they did now. No one would be okay with their significant other spending so much time with someone else of the opposite sex.
It was inevitable, natural. Isabella had always known it would happen.
But the thought of it right now caused a sudden stab of pain to shoot through her chest.
She would hate not to be able to hang out with Jace all the time, tell him all of her thoughts and feelings, hear his opinions and complaints and encouragements.
A life without Jace in it that way felt sterile and empty.
“Isabella,” a voice came from behind her, startling her out of her bleak reverie.
She turned around to see Heather Carver, a small, pretty blonde she’d gone to high school with. Heather lived in an apartment in Preston’s Mill too—in fact, her father’s company had restored the old mill and converted it into apartments.
“Hi, Heather,” she said with a smile, as the other woman approached. “How’s everything going?”
“Good, good!” Heather flashed her a beaming smile. “You heard Chris and I are engaged, didn’t you?”
“Of course I heard. I work in the beauty salon, remember. I’m so happy for you. When is the wedding?”
“We’re still working on setting the date.” The two women walked up the front steps. “Are you here to visit Jace?”
“Yes. Who else?”
Heather chuckled. “Are you two still just friends or have things moved along to something more.”
Isabella blinked in surprise and stopped walking. “Of course, we’re just friends. There’s never been anything else between us.”
“Sometimes that changes though. Right?”
“I… guess.” Isabella felt a weird twisting in her stomach she’d felt occasionally in the past, whenever the nature of her friendship with Jace was analyzed. She didn’t like for people to question them. Sometimes it felt like everyone else was skeptical that a friendship like hers and Jace’s could even exist. “But ours won’t change. We’ve been friends like this since high sc
hool.”
“And neither of you ever considered something more than friendship?” Heather wasn’t being rude, although a little smile played on the corners of her mouth. She seemed genuinely interested, and she’d always been sweet and friendly with Isabella.
Isabella shook her head. “No. I was dating Brock when Jace and I started hanging out, back in high school. So anything more than friendship was out of the question. I was with Brock for so long that our relationship just got established as friendship. If it hasn’t changed yet, I don’t think it’s ever going to change. Is that so strange?”
“I don’t know. Maybe not. But Brock is out of the picture now, isn’t he?”
“Yes. He’s long gone. And honestly it feels like I wasted a lot of my life on him. But I wouldn’t have become friends with Jace if I hadn’t been going out with Brock, so I can’t regret it.”
“Jace is pretty cute, you know.”
Isabella stiffened. Her first instinct—ridiculously—had been a stab of jealousy, that any other woman was thinking Jace was cute. Heather was engaged, though, and Isabella had no call to be jealous of anyone. She let out a breath and let go of the silly feeling. “I know he’s cute.”
“So maybe don’t take something more than friendship off the table completely. You never know.”
“Right,” Isabella said with a slightly forced smile. “You never know.”
She agreed mostly to end the conversation. She was feeling that twisting in her stomach again. She hated that feeling.
“Sorry,” Heather said, obviously reading something on Isabella’s face. “It’s none of my business. I hope I didn’t annoy you too much.”
“No, not at all.” Isabella’s smile was real this time, relieved that part of the conversation was over. “I’m glad I ran into you, actually. We should hang out some time.”
“Definitely. Give me a call, and we’ll set something up.”
So the two were on good terms when they said goodbye. Heather started up the stairs to her and Chris’s apartment on the second floor, and Isabella walked down the hall to Jace’s apartment on the first floor.
She knocked on the door and waited until Jace unlocked the door and swung it open.
He wore jeans and another T-shirt she’d given him—this one with a big dog wearing a top hat on the front. He was always such a good sport about the silly shirts she gave him.
Her heart clenched unexpectedly as she saw him, his hair rumpled, his eyes slightly heavy behind his glasses, wearing the shirt she’d picked out for him. It was the strangest, most unexpected feeling of possession.
Like he was hers.
Like he belonged to her.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, his eyebrows drawing together.
She swallowed, shaking herself out of the bizarre feeling. Clearly, her conversation with Heather had rattled her more than it should have. “Nothing. Sorry. It’s nothing.”
“Another bad date?”
“It was… strange.” She stared at him for a minute, waiting for him to step aside. Then finally she asked, “Can I come in?”
“Of course,” he said, blinking as if he too had been in a strange daze. “Sorry. I’m just kind of out of it tonight, I guess.”
She walked in and had a brief conversation with Beau, who squawked to her a few times a combination of “So bo-ring” and “Hi Bel-li” as she gave him a few grapes.
When the greetings were over, Jace went to get a couple of beers and Isabella collapsed onto his couch.
“So tell me about the date,” Jace said, stretching his legs out and taking his glasses off.
“Most of it was terrible. He talked about politics the whole time. I was about to go out of my mind.” She smiled. “But at the end we actually had a decent conversation.”
Jace frowned. “About what?”
“About relationships. You know, he’s only been with one other woman. Ever. Can you believe that?”
Jace made a noncommittal sound.
“Don’t tell him I told you that. He’d probably be embarrassed. But it was actually kind of nice, that he was honest about you.”
“It doesn’t kind of freak you out?”
“Why would it? I’m not looking for some sort of player, you know.” She gave him a teasing poke in the ribs. “And who are you to talk, anyway?”
His frown deepened. “I’ve been with more than one woman.”
“I know you have. You’re, what, up to three now?”
His eyes narrowed.
She giggled. “Is my count wrong?”
“Yes, your count is wrong.”
“So what’s the number then?” She and Jace didn’t normally talk about sex. In fact, that had an unspoken rule not to bring it up. She wasn’t sure why she was pushing the issue now. She just couldn’t help it.
He kept frowning and didn’t reply.
“Tell me! I’ll tell you. I’m at four.”
He sighed, his expression relaxing. “I’m at four too.”
She giggled again and leaned over to kiss his jaw. “We match! I always knew we were a good pair.”
She was pulling away from the kiss when he turned his head, and suddenly their lips were only an inch apart.
Her breath caught in her throat as she had to fight the desire to kiss his mouth.
What the hell was wrong with her? She was never like this. Not with Jace. This was completely inappropriate.
She straightened up quickly and leaned back against the couch, putting distance between their lips again.
Jace cleared his throat and shifted, as if he were uncomfortable. “So how did you leave it with Greg?”
“He wants to go out again, and I said maybe something casual. As long as he doesn’t talk endlessly about politics. Why do guys do that? Is it supposed to impress us?”
“I have no idea.” He cleared his throat again and then took a long swig of beer. “You want to watch a movie or something?”
“Sure.” She toed off her shoes and folded her legs up onto the couch to get more comfortable. “What were you doing this evening?”
“Just catching up on some work.”
“Why are you working on a Friday night?”
He gave a shrug. “Figured I’d just get it done.”
“You don’t want to go out on dates too?”
“Who would I go out with?”
“I’m sure we could find you someone. What about—”
“Please don’t try to set me up.”
Isabella blinked at his tone, which was almost bad-tempered. “I’m sorry. I was just trying to help.”
“I know. But I’m fine. I don’t need to be set up. If I want to go out, I can find someone. I’m not a total loser, you know.”
“I know. You’re smart and funny and cute and sexy. Women should be pounding down your door. I really don’t know why they’re not.” Her cheeks flushed slightly as she realized what she’d said.
Had she actually said that Jace was sexy?
What was wrong with her tonight?
He gave her a little smile, but his eyes were soft, almost tender. “Thanks.”
They stared at each other for a minute until Jace evidently remembered he was supposed to be finding a movie for them to watch.
They picked out an old action film that both of them liked and settled in to watch it.
After about fifteen minutes, Isabella started to get cold, so she reached over Jace’s body to grab a blanket from the other side of the couch.
“Help yourself,” he teased. “Don’t mind me sitting here.”
She laughed and spread the blanket out over her. “Are you cold too?”
“Not really.”
“We can share.”
“I’m really fine.”
Despite his words, his expression was fond and laughing, and she couldn’t seem to resist it tonight. She wanted to be close to him.
She rearranged the blanket so it was covering him too and then she cuddled up against him.
He
put his arm around her, and she liked how it felt. A lot.
He made her feel like she was protected, known, cherished.
Taken care of.
They watched the movie together like that, and when it ended she knew she needed to pull away. She was feeling far too affectionate, far too close to him.
Their relationship was too good and special for something weird to get in between them.
She couldn’t let things get weird.
But she also couldn’t seem to pull away, and he didn’t appear inclined to remove his arm from around her.
With his free hand, he clicked the remote, looking for something else to watch.
“I guess I should go home,” she said, since it felt like something she was supposed to say.
“No hurry.”
“Just tell me when you’re ready for me to leave.”
“I’m never ready for you to leave, Bella.”
Her breath hitched at the words, and she was too nervous to look at his face to see his expression.
“Remember back in high school when I stayed half the night playing video games at your place, and Brock showed up all mad about it?”
Jace chuckled, still flipping channels. “Of course I remember. He said that obviously nothing would happen between us but you were still his girlfriend and he didn’t like it.”
Isabella shook her head. “He was always kind of jealous of us, I think.”
“He was.”
“I think maybe he knew deep down that we were closer than he and I ever were.”
“Yeah.”
She felt that twisting in her stomach again, the one that made her so uncomfortable. “Sometimes I worry,” she admitted.
“About what?”
“About what will happen when I get a real boyfriend. Will he always be kind of jealous of you and me, because we’re so close?”
Jace moved his hand to stroke her hair gently and didn’t answer.
“Do you ever worry about that?” she asked.
“Sometimes.”
