Making the First Move

by Reese Ryan

  “You have no idea. I packed a week of activities into four days. It’ll take another three days to recover.” I flop down on the couch, my thigh against his.

  He puts his arm around me, and I relax into him.

  “Then I won’t stay,” he whispers. “But I needed to see you. I’ve missed you.”

  “I missed you, too.” I tuck my head underneath his chin, avoiding his eyes. My grandmother’s words echo in my head. “Don’t start nothin’ you cain’t finish, baby.” That’s exactly what we’ve done.

  Raine offers to warm our food. I take a quick shower and unpack. He lights candles, turns down the lights and pours wine. A cozy dinner for two.

  We sit on floor pillows at the coffee table.

  “Your mom must have been shocked when you showed up at her door.” Raine scoops General Tso’s chicken onto his plate.

  “She was shocked, alright.” I lick sticky, sweet sauce off my fingers. “But not as shocked as the old dude she was cuddled with on the couch.”

  “Your mom has a boyfriend?” He pulls his chopsticks apart. Show-off. “But I’m not surprised.” He nods toward a picture of my mom over the television. “She’s hot.” He winks at me.

  I cringe the way I did when I was fifteen and some sleazy guy at the grocery store would say, “You two must be sisters.”

  “Oh, come on. Don’t be that way. You should be happy your mom still looks great. You’ll be thankful for those genes in thirty years.”

  “I’m happy she looks great. I just don’t want to see her with Mr. Viagra Commercial, that’s all.”

  “So you’d rather she sit home alone watching soap operas?” He scoops up some of the rice and chicken with the chopsticks effortlessly. For a second I hate him the tiniest little bit.

  “You make me sound so...”

  “Selfish?”

  “No...”

  “Jealous?”

  “Okay, you’re not very good at this game. I was going to say self-centered.” I freeze, my fork in midair. “Is that what you think? That I’m selfish?”

  Raine scoops more rice and chicken into his mouth and chews in silence. Finally he says, “If you’re asking me if I think you’re a selfish person, the answer is no.”

  I relax and shove what hasn’t fallen off my fork into my mouth.

  “If you’re asking if, in this instance, you’re being a bit selfish...then I’d have to say yes.” Raine responds with a smile to my widened eyes and pout. “Admit it, when you left home you were the center of your mother’s universe. You return to find she has a life, and it sounds like a pretty damned good one. You should be happy for her.”

  I narrow my eyes, twist my mouth then sigh. “I’m thrilled she has her own thing going on. In fact, I wish she had more to do. Maybe she wouldn’t have time to meddle in my life.”

  Raine laughs. “That’s what moms do. She just wants the best for you. You’ll find middle ground. Don’t worry. The important thing is you’ll be surrounded by people who love you. You’re a lucky woman.”

  “Am I? I mean, I work my ass off for this kind of career opportunity, but then it means leaving San Francisco, where I want to be. And you...our timing couldn’t be worse.” I put down my fork and wipe my hands. “Funny, but I don’t feel very lucky.”

  We spent last weekend revealing a little more of ourselves, like a complicated puzzle coming together piece by piece. We talked about everything—except for the fate of our relationship. Now that I’ve acknowledged the elephant in the room, I wish I could shove it back in the box.

  Raine sighs and pushes grains of rice around on his plate. “I know our timing isn’t the best, but—”

  My phone rings. I hold up one finger and answer, grateful for the reprieve. I’m not ready to have this discussion. Not now. Not tonight. Maybe never.

  Raine sighs.

  “Hi, Mom. Sorry I forgot to call,” I say before she can lay a carefully planned guilt trip on me.

  She pauses, partly relieved, slightly defeated. “As long as you’re okay.”

  “I am. Thanks.”

  “We’re all so excited you’re coming home.”

  “I’m excited about coming home, too.”

  Raine gets up and starts to stack our dishes.

  “Jamie is especially excited. It’ll be good for her to have you here again.”

  “She’s changed so much.”

  “Love brings out the best in us, Melanie. Your father and I...we had that kind of love. That’s what I want for you. The kind of happiness I had with your father. Every woman deserves to have that.”

  I look at Raine and swallow, hoping he doesn’t hear the thump of my heartbeat from across the room. “I know,” I say. “It’s late. Get some sleep. I’ll call you later this week.”

  I settle back into the couch, thinking about what my mom said. I’ve always envied my parents’ relationship. It was what I’d hoped to have with Jaxson.

  Mimi and Jamie seem to have found theirs. I, on the other hand, am destined to be a spinster with a house full of stray dogs—since I’m horribly allergic to cats.

  Part of me still wishes Jax could have been that guy, the one I’m supposed to be with forever. He was handsome, funny and had a great career ahead of him. Check. Check. Check. Jaxson had an incredible gift for making me feel...special. Sometimes when he’d stare at me from across the room it felt like there was no one else in the world besides us. Where he failed horribly was by being equally talented at disappointing me in grand fashion.

  My eyes sting with tears. I wipe them with the back of my sleeve. My gift for impossible relationships is clearly still intact. What I have with Raine feels so right. Like he’s the man I’m supposed to be with. But in a few short weeks, we’ll be thousands of miles apart.

  I have no idea what the future has in store for us. I only know that I want Raine now.

  “Hey, you.” I gesture with my index finger for him to come here.

  He sits on the couch and puts his arm around me. “I know it’s late and that you’re tired, but—”

  “I want you to stay.” I fiddle with the buttons on his shirt.

  He presses his lips against mine. Small jolts of electricity run down my spine. My pulse races. Scenes of our last intimate moments flood my brain. Judging by my body’s instant reaction, there will be more of the same in store tonight. Sooner rather than later, I hope.

  We never quite make it to bed, and there’s very little sleep involved. But the bags I’ll have under my eyes when I stroll into work tomorrow will be completely worth it.

  * * *

  Wednesday night, Raine and I sit on my couch, eating lamb madras, tandoori chicken and some of the best naan I’ve ever eaten. He’s practically moved in among the growing stacks of boxes I’ve managed to pack when I’m not working, surfing real estate websites or fielding calls from my family.

  Tonight we plan to watch a movie. But first I need to tell him I’m leaving for the weekend. My real estate agent has lined up several Westside condos and a few starter homes for us to tour. It’ll be a two-day marathon to find the perfect space. It makes sense to go. So why can’t I bring myself to tell him I’m leaving?

  “You’re quiet tonight.” Raine pours more chai tea into my cup. “Everything okay?”

  I sip some tea then inhale deeply. “I’m going home this weekend to do some house hunting. I have to have a definite timeline for moving into my own place. If I don’t, I’ll be sucked in like a vortex. I’ll never get out.” The words tumble from my lips like a bowling ball falling down a flight of stairs.

  Raine nods. He spoons more tandoori chicken onto his plate then scoops it up with a piece of the naan and shoves it into his mouth. He doesn’t respond. His eyes are locked onto the co-hosts of The Inside Sizzle as they chatter on about the latest exploits
of pseudo-celeb bad girl siblings, Autumn and Summer Montgomery. Something he couldn’t possibly care about.

  “So, what do you have planned for this weekend?” Not my most original moment.

  He stares ahead, nibbling on naan. “I planned to take you out to dinner, maybe catch a show.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier that I’m leaving. And you know I’d love to spend the weekend with you. But I have to find a place of my own.”

  “So why not do both?” He tears another piece of naan and dips it in his lamb madras.

  “What do you mean?” I hope he isn’t asking what I think he’s asking.

  “I could come with you.” He watches for my reaction.

  “It’s generous of you to offer.” I plaster a superficial smile on my face. “But last-minute airline tickets would cost a fortune. I’d never expect you to take on such an expense.”

  Settling back into the couch, I take a long sip of tea. I hope this explanation, a perfectly reasonable argument, is enough to satisfy him. I don’t want to hurt his feelings, but we started this thing with the unstated understanding that it had the longevity of a carton of milk.

  Raine is the end-of-summer fling I should have had in my early twenties. The one you always remember but knew would never be anything more.

  Introducing him to my family would turn our relationship from a sweet memory to a nagging chorus sung by my mother and sister. Taking him to Cleveland is out of the question.

  Raine wipes his hands on a napkin and turns to me. “What you’re saying is you don’t want me to go with you.”

  So this is the downside to being with a man who actually has feelings. I put my cup down on the coffee table and turn to face him, folding my legs Indian-style on the couch. “This is complicated enough without getting my family involved.”

  He looks past me the way my mom does when she’s so angry or disappointed she can’t bear to look at me. Then he returns to eating his food in silence.

  I rub his lower back. “My mother lies awake at night, wondering if I’ll ever get married and round out the flock of grandchildren. If she meets you—”

  “It’s okay. I get it.” He chugs his tea then slumps against the couch.

  “I’m already under so much pressure with this new job. I don’t need the added pressure from my family. You understand, don’t you?”

  “I understand family can be a complicated thing.” He squeezes my hand. “I knew what the outcome would likely be the first night I kissed you,” he says. “But I couldn’t let you leave without at least trying.”

  “Most guys would consider this the perfect relationship.” I poke him with my elbow. “Three weeks, and you’re out. No attachments. No baggage. No promises. Just three weeks of incredibly hot sex.”

  “That’s what my brother keeps telling me,” he says. “But I don’t agree. I want more.”

  I clear our dishes from the table and take them to the sink. “More?”

  “More,” he says emphatically. Raine follows me to the kitchen and puts his arms around me, erasing the distance I hoped to create. He kisses me.

  My heart threatens to thump out of my chest. I pull back to catch my breath. My head must stay in control of this situation, not my libido.

  “What do you mean by ‘more’?” I look into his eyes.

  He runs his hands over his hair. “Melanie, you’re all I can think about. That has to mean something.”

  “This has been great. But it’s only been two weeks. We’ll get over it,” I say as gently as I can.

  He holds my hand in his. “If this were only about the past two weeks, I would agree, but it isn’t. I’ve felt this way for a while now.”

  My jaw tenses. I pull my hand away and lengthen my spine. “And you’re telling me now? I’ll be on the other side of the country in two weeks. Then what?”

  “I don’t know. But I know there could be so much more to this if we give it a chance.”

  “So what, I’m supposed to bypass the opportunity of a lifetime because this might be something special?” My cheeks burn. My head is spinning and my voice is more elevated than I intend.

  “I’m not asking you to give up your promotion. You’ve worked hard for this opportunity. You deserve it.”

  “Then what is it you want from me?”

  He shakes his head. “I don’t know, but I know it isn’t good-bye.”

  I open my mouth to respond, but there aren’t any words for this moment. I exhale. My eyes sting as I try to hold back the tears forming. Turning away from him, I lean against the counter. My stomach churns and I suddenly feel dizzy. I blink away tears and wipe my eyes quickly. “This isn’t fair. Don’t make it seem like our happiness rests in my lap. That’s bullshit. We had plenty of time to speak up and we didn’t. I think that says it all.”

  I walk away from him, shaking, trying to pretend I’m okay with this—the way things have to end.

  Raine wraps his arms around my waist, pulls me into him and kisses me. I want to stay angry with him, but with each kiss my irritation slowly dissipates.

  “Look me in the eye and tell me you’ll be able to walk away with no regrets.” He holds my chin in his hand. Our collective breath is as warm and spicy as the air in a tandoori kitchen.

  Sucking in a deep breath, I prepare to tell him I will do just that. But the churning in my stomach intensifies.

  “I’m not feeling very well. I—” Before I can finish the sentence, I’ve got my head over the garbage can, puking my guts up. So much for playing it cool.

  Raine wets a paper towel and hands it to me.

  I wipe my mouth. “Maybe it was something I ate.”

  “Maybe.” He watches me carefully. “Got any Pepto?”

  I shake my head. Even if I did, I probably wouldn’t know where it was packed at this point.

  “I’ll run out and get you some ginger ale.”

  “Thanks.” I raise my eyes to his. “Look, I’m really sorry about this.”

  “It’s okay.” He kisses my forehead. “Go to bed. I’ll finish cleaning up in here.”

  Raine returns with a bottle of Pepto and ginger ale. We spend the evening watching TV in my bed. Then he goes home.

  I can’t sleep. Instead, I lie awake, wondering how I could possibly pass up this nearly perfect man who comes close to owning every quality I wanted in the man I’d settle down with someday. He’s handsome and passionate about changing the world. He isn’t an heir to an oil fortune and is no Fred Astaire, but I could overlook those things. Too bad there will be more than two thousand miles between us in less than ten days. That’s something I can’t overlook.

  I will settle for memories of the man who was nearly perfect—except for his incredibly bad timing.

  Chapter Ten

  It’s been two months, but it still feels familiar yet strange to be home again. Those first four weeks were rough. I stayed at Mom’s while I closed on the condo and trudged to every furniture and home goods store in town with Mimi, whom I hired to design both my home and office space. I’m glad I did, though. The results are amazing.

  Still I couldn’t avoid the memories as I walked past the neighborhood ice cream shoppe where Dad consoled me when I dropped my cone or the café where I ran into Jaxson not long after our breakup.

  But there were some good things about those four weeks at home, too. Like spending time with Mom, Jamie, Mimi and the boys. And my mother’s cooking. I probably gained a pound and a half every week while I was there.

  During that time I’d only seen Walter Ferris a few times. But I’m pretty sure Mom’s mysterious trips to the store—when she insisted on going alone and would return without a single shopping bag—were a lame cover for meetings with Walter.

  Whenever I try to get the skinny on Walter, Mom gets upset a
nd changes the subject. I’ve since adopted this strategy every time she brings up the subject of my love life. She doesn’t appreciate it as much when the tables are turned. This, of course, provides me with endless amusement.

  Mom doesn’t give up that easily, though. She enlists Mimi and Jamie to do her dirty work for her. Which is why my Friday movie night with Jamie is peppered with observations like: “When it’s right, nothing can stand in the way,” during The Wedding Planner, and “It’s amazing how the right person can bring out the best in you,” during Pretty Woman.

  I’m patient with her. After all, in a way she’s seeing these movies for the first time. She’s finally invested in a relationship. It’s like someone turned on the light switch.

  While I’m happy for Jamie, I’m also a little jealous. I’m the bleeding heart who falls in love at the drop of a hat. She’s spent the past twenty years giving hell to any man who dared approach her. Any man who entered into a relationship with her was a masochist.

  Seeing her soft edges is surreal. As a teen, Jamie broke bones, sprained her ankle and got a busted lip—all trying to outdo some neighborhood boy on a skateboard or BMX bike. She never shed a tear.

  Now she sits next to me on the sofa, teary-eyed over Richard Gere climbing the fire escape to declare his love to Julia Roberts. A scene that never evoked so much as a sniffle in the dozens of times we’ve seen it before. There’s no doubt she’s in love.

  Miles Copeland is the kind of man any woman would fall for. He’s handsome, tall—but not too tall—and has a great sense of humor. He’s considerate to both Jamie and our family. He’s successful, owns an expensive condo and completely adores her. What’s not to love?

  I watch my friend dabbing her eyes with her shirt sleeves. Jamie smiles. She’s overjoyed that Vivian Ward will find happiness with wealthy businessman, Edward Lewis. The movie will fade to black and they’ll live happily ever after, despite their fundamental differences.

  It’s eleven-thirty at night, and I’m nursing a mojito I made over an hour ago. I try to focus on our conversation and not think about work. For the past two months my thoughts have been consumed with the new branch and potential clients. It’s hard to say whether it’s because I’m determined to make the new branch a success or because I’m trying to keep my brain too busy to think of Raine.