by Jay McLean
Part of me wanted to sit out in the cold until Mocha returned—a penance or something—but I knew he was right. I reluctantly took his hand and let him pull me back onto my feet. My head throbbed. Between the previous night’s champagne, and the fact that I hadn’t eaten anything all day, I suppose it was to be expected. I wobbled on my feet a bit, catching myself from stumbling.
Jeremy’s arms were suddenly around me pulling me in. I buried my face into his fleece jacket as the tears came flowing out. He smelled like some kind of woodsy cologne, mixed with the scent of fresh laundry. I felt my shoulders start to relax. “It will be okay,” he whispered into my ear, tightening is embrace. “I promise. Don’t worry.”
I didn’t want to let go. For a second I thought he might be right. It all might be okay. But reality nagged at me. I was standing in front of my boss’s house, hugging his brother, after having just lost his dog. What if one of the neighbors was watching? My tension returned as I lifted my head and pulled back.
“Um, thanks,” I paused awkwardly, avoiding eye contact. “I am sort of hungry.”
He folded his arms across his chest and tilted his head. “We won’t do Mocha any good by going on a hunger strike you know.”
I bit my lip. “No, I guess not.”
We walked in silence back toward the house. There was something comforting about Jeremy’s presence. I couldn’t quite figure out why. I mean, I’d met this guy all of six hours ago and all I wanted was to feel his warm arms wrapped around me again. He had an ease about him that I wanted to have. Rob suddenly popped back into my head. My boyfriend. I had a boyfriend. A boyfriend who was in Hawaii hanging out with girls in bikinis.
Here I am, stuck in this mess and he hadn’t even bothered to call. Wasn’t he supposed to be worried about me? What if something had happened? I mean, something worse could have happened. Jeremy could have been some lunatic who broke into the house and murdered me. Rob wouldn’t still be drinking Mai Tai’s on the beach while my cold dead body sat in this house. When I’d first met Rob I couldn’t get over his charm. He was smart, handsome, successful and totally into me.
We’d met at this bar in my neighborhood called The Triangle on a totally dead Tuesday night, a little over a year ago. Avery had begged me to go with her. She was stalking a bartender who’d bought us drinks a few times and had the most ridiculous handlebar mustache. He turned out to be off for the night, but Rob was there will some friends from work. Avery had physically shoved me into him in an awkward, but effective method of matchmaking. I spilled my drink, he bought me another, and that was it. I was smitten.
He’d called me his girlfriend on our third date and we were basically inseparable from that point on. There were constant texts and notes written on Facebook in full view of our friends. He introduced me to his family and took me out to cozy dinners at tiny restaurants favored by locals. It all felt so grown up and real. Not like the immature guys I’d dated in college whose idea of a romantic evening was Top Ramen and beer pong. Rob had been different.
I don’t know when it was that I realized his charm didn’t extend only to me. He would flash his perfect smile at the checker at the grocery store, or our waitress at a restaurant, and strike up an intimate conversation. I didn’t want to think about what happened when I wasn’t there. The Facebook posts had stopped months ago. His profile pic was a photo of us posing at his company Christmas party, but he’d replaced it with a selfie of him on a boat in Mexico. It was the same picture he’d had when we met. It was so obvious things had changed, but we’d admitted nothing. Everything went on normally for the most part. But maybe we were just getting comfortable? It wasn’t supposed to be the honeymoon stage forever, was it? This was real life, not a Jane Austen novel. Did I expect his to profess his unending love to me and propose? Ugh. I need to stop thinking about it.
“Kiera?” Jeremy’s voice startled me. We’d walked into the house and were now standing in the kitchen. I’d been so caught up in my head I almost hadn’t noticed.
My cheeks started to get warm. It was obvious he’d said something, but I had no idea what. I gave him an apologetic look. “Um…”
“You have a lot on your mind,” he looked at me, his eyes questioning. What was it about this guy that made me want to tell him everything?
“It’s just been,” I struggled for words, “A really bad day.”
He pulled out a bar chair that was tucked under the huge granite kitchen island and patted the seat. “So now, tell me again how you were roped into this? My brother can be pretty demanding, but forcing his employee to watch his dog seems a little much, even for him.”
“It’s not his fault.” I climbed onto the seat and leaned over the counter, resting my elbows on the cool stone. “I offered.”
He turned and opened the fridge. “That’s very generous of you.”
I couldn’t lie to this guy. “Not really.”
He turned back to me and raised his eyebrows briefly, but let them drop. “The fridge is looking pretty bleak. I hope the pantry has more to offer.”
I studied him for a second. “Why do you believe me?”
“Should I not?” He walked over to the pantry and began studying the shelves. He seemed so sure of himself.
“No,” I paused. “But, I am a stranger who just happens to appear in your brother’s house.”
“Why do you believe I am Will’s brother?” he replied, still rifling through Will’s limited dry goods. “I could be a psycho home invader.”
A smile tugged at my mouth, “Touché. You don’t seem like a home invader.”
“I am glad to hear it,” he held up the box of Kraft Macaroni and Cheese on one hand and a bottle or some kind of red wine in the other, “Look I’ve found us a gourmet feast.”
I sat up and folded my arms across my chest. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
He looked at the box of pasta and frowned. “Don’t tell me you are gluten free or vegan or something?”
I nodded my head toward the wine.
He smiled. “Best cure for a hangover they say.”
I probably should have protested, but how could this weekend really get any worse? “Do you think we should call Will?”
Jeremy retrieved two oversized wine glasses from the cabinet and set them on the counter. “Will can’t do anything beyond what we’ve already done, and he’ll be here tomorrow night.”
I suppose he was right. “I am supposed to be in Hawaii right now. Sitting on a beach.”
He didn’t say anything, but opened the wine and started filling my glass. My eyes were locked on the dark liquid. “So there’s this girl at work. Emily. She’s perfect.”
Once I got started, the whole story flowed out while Jeremy prepared our neon hued pasta. The generous glass of wine didn’t hurt. I told him about how Emily had stolen my idea, and how I just couldn’t let her have the spotlight again. I told him how the offer to dog sit had flown out of my mouth before I’d had the chance to think. I told him everything—and he’d listened, with little interruption. When I finally stopped my mouth felt dry. I was usually pretty quiet, especially with people I’d just met.
He looked thoughtful as he placed a plate of steaming macaroni in front of me. “So, your boyfriend is in Hawaii right now, without you?”
“Yeah,” I suddenly felt a little defensive. “I mean, he’s there with his friend Paul.”
“I’m sure he must feel pretty bad he’s not here to help with the hunt for Mocha.”
“Yeah. I’m sure he would…” my voice trailed off as I stared at my nearly empty glass.
“You haven’t talked to him?” he frowned.
“He hasn’t seen his friend, the guy we’re staying with, in a long time. I’m sure they’re busy and besides you know the reception isn’t always good there.” I sounded pathetic. I knew it. He had reception enough to post on Instagram. I couldn’t help but wonder if he’d posted anything else. I’d turned off the ringer on my phone because I didn’t really think I
could handle another photo like the one I’d seen last night.
He shrugged. “I wouldn’t let a day go without talking to you if you were mine. Who knows when you might meet someone else fantastic?”
“Who would seduce me with macaroni and cheese?” I offered.
“Perhaps,” he replied simply. “So, Kiera Vane, what do you like to do when you’re not jetting off to Hawaii or coming to the rescue of your boss?”
“Hang out with friends, family. Jog. Visit the snow when I have time. Draw.” I bit my lip. Why did I feel like I was filling out the ‘about me’ section on Match.com? The personal resume where you write about your love of taking long hikes and cooking gourmet meals, but conveniently leave out your online shopping addiction or Candy Crush habit. “I also play a lot of Candy Crush.” This wasn’t a date. Might as well be honest. He could make fun of me if he wanted to.
“What level are you on?” he asked, as if Candy Crush was totally acceptable extracurricular activity.
I took the last sip of my wine and shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know, one hundred fifty something.”
He refilled my glass. “Persistence. I like it. I prefer Battleship myself.”
“My brother and I played that all the time when we were kids.” I didn’t know if it was the wine or the company, but I felt sentimental.
“So did Will and I. He’d get mad when he lost and toss the plastic board across the room, but you have to have compassion for a big brother when his little brother bests him.”
“Did that happen very often?” I couldn’t imagine Will losing. He just had an air of success about him.
“Oh always,” He smiled. “No, honestly, Will’s always been the best at everything. He doesn’t like to come in second.”
I saw a flicker of something cross his eyes, but I couldn’t read it. I wondered what kind of relationship Will and Jeremy had. How would they talk to each other? Jeremy couldn’t be much younger. Maybe a few years at most.
“So, what do you do? When you’re not breaking into your brother’s house and stealing his macaroni, that is.” I took the last bite of the pasta from my plate. Why did fake powdered cheese sauce taste so damn good?
“I run a nursery.” He reached for the pot on the stove. “More?”
I shook my head. I was a little taken aback. “You take care of children?”
He smiled. “I do love kids, but no, plants. It’s the family business. Will could have been a part of it, but there wasn’t enough upside for him—plus he’s never met a plant he didn’t kill.”
I looked over at the leafy palm in the corner.
“A good fake.” He spooned the rest of the pasta into his dish. “I gave up on him a long time ago.”
“But the yard outside is so perfect.”
“Gardeners we send over from the nursery one a week. We couldn’t let him tarnish the family name could we? Anyway, Will went off to Stanford and I was happy studying botany at UW. It was really sort of easy given the fact that I knew half the curriculum before I started. It left me time to do a minor in music.” He gestured playing the drums.
“You play the drums?” I didn’t have a musical bone in my body. My mother drug me back and forth to piano lessons for a year when I was ten, but I only succeeded in learning chop sticks. I found myself sort of awed by his accomplishments. They were so unexpected.
“Just for fun, nothing big,” he replied dismissively. He picked up our empty plates and deposited them in the sink. “Now what?”
I pushed myself off my seat. “I think we should try calling for Mocha again.”
“Exactly what I was thinking.” He reached for his fleece jacket and a baseball cap.
I pulled on my coat and tugged at the zipper. Shit. This coat was always impossible to put on without the zipper getting stuck on the fabric. I pulled hard to get it open again and started over. Stuck again. “Shit! Shit!” I bit my lip. Did I say that out loud?
“Everything alright there?” Jeremy leaned down to catch my eyes.
“It’s just the zipper. I’ll be fine,” I snapped. I pressed the zipper into place and pulled again. “Shit!” This thing was impossible. Who designed this stupid coat?
“Let me help.” He said softly, leaning toward me. “I have a knack with these things.”
He carefully set the zipper into place and gently tugged it up. It moved easily for him. My heart started racing as I felt his warm breath on my face, the pressure of his hand brushing slowly up the front of my jacket. I could smell that cologne again and I flashed back to the hug he gave me outside. I wanted to be in his arms again. I wanted more than a hug.
He reached the top of my collar with the zipper, his hand bumping up against my chin. His lips were inches from mine. Our eyes locked. My heart was beating so loudly I was sure he could hear it, but there was only silence. It seemed like hours passed in that moment, but I knew it was only seconds. He let go of the zipper and traced his finger along the line of my jaw. His other arm wrapped around my waist and he pulled me to him, his lips pressing against mine.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back, softly at first and then more urgently. Everything around us seemed to disappear. I ran my fingers through his thick wavy hair and tightened my grip on him. I didn’t want this moment to end. I hadn’t felt this alive in months. Maybe ever.
I don’t know exactly how much time had passed when his arms loosened and he started slowly pulling away. Our lips were only apart for a second when he drew me back to him for more. It took a few tries to get a little space between us. I was breathless. My whole body was trembling. I felt such a rush of pleasure and contentment that it almost crushed the other feeling that was pricking at the back of my mind.
Guilt. What the hell was I doing? Rob. Rob who might be an asshole boyfriend, but technically was my asshole boyfriend. Shit. Shit! The rush of pleasure I had been feeling immediately turned to panic. I hid my face in Jeremy’s chest. I couldn’t look him in the eye. I couldn’t look myself in the eye.
I was so preoccupied with my internal breakdown that I hardly noticed that Jeremy wasn’t saying anything either. I don’t know why it never occurred to me that he might feel something other than elation at what just happened, but it didn’t. The truth was I didn’t really know much about the guy I just spent fifteen minutes making out with.
I gathered my courage and finally peeked up at him. He rubbed his hand across his chin, his eyes suddenly looking weary. I hadn’t seen this expression before. My stomach dropped. I might regret what just happened, but I didn’t want him to regret it. He caught my eye and gave me a weak smile.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for that to happen,” he paused awkwardly.
My mind was spinning again. He didn’t mean it? He had been the one to lean in and kiss me hadn’t he? Everything replayed in my mind. Him helping me with my zipper. His hand on my face. Yes. He had kissed me—and now he regretted it? My eyes narrowed, but words didn’t come.
He looked away. “I really shouldn’t have done that.”
My stomach dropped again. What they hell had just happened? I wanted to be angry, but at who? So he regretted kissing me? I had a boyfriend. Of course I had told him about my boyfriend, and he kissed me anyway. I glared at him, but what could I say? It was all just a huge mistake.
He sighed. “It’s complicated.”
Here we go. He was judging me. He kissed me and now he wanted to take it back. I don’t care. I didn’t want to hear his reasons. I shook my head. “It never happened. You don’t have to explain anything to me.”
His eyes returned to mine, his face strained. “But…”
“Let’s go call for Mocha,” I cut him off before he could say more, and started for the door. I didn’t look back, but I could hear his footsteps falling behind me. He didn’t try his explanation again.
Chapter SIX
We called Mocha’s name for an hour before giving up. My mind was going over everything that had happened with Jeremy a dozen times as I y
elled until my voice gave out. Nothing became any clearer. Part of me wanted his explanation. I yearned for him to tell me something to make it okay. But the truth was, even if he could excuse his own behavior, it didn’t change mine. I still had a boyfriend—and I had not only lost my Will’s dog, but I drank all his Champagne and made out with his brother. His brother who apparently wasn’t single.
At this point firing me probably wouldn’t be enough. Maybe he would sue me or something? Don’t they say people can sue you for pretty much anything? He’d win too. I was pretty sure of that. Of course I didn’t really have anything for him to take. I drove a 2002 Subaru Forester with one hundred and sixty thousand miles on it. My biggest asset was probably the Marc Jacobs purse I’d bought when I first got my job. He could have it. A tear slid down my cheek. I just wanted to get Mocha back. I could take being fired if Mocha was okay. The air was so crisp I could see my breath. I hated to think of her out here in the cold. She had to be taken in by someone. She just had to be.
“I think we should go back,” Jeremy’s voice cut in. “We can look again when it’s light out or maybe we’ll hear back from the vet.”
It was the first time he’d spoken since I’d stopped him in the kitchen. I couldn’t read his expression. “Yeah, I think you’re right.” My voice sounded strange—hoarse from all the yelling.
We walked back to the house in silence. Words kept coming to the tip of my tongue, but nothing came it. It was like one of those nightmares where you’re trying to scream for help, but no matter how hard you try, you have no voice. I was seriously going crazy. Or. Maybe I was being seriously over-dramatic. It wasn’t that big of a deal was it? It was just a kiss. Was I acting like a silly teenager? My shoulders relaxed a little. Maybe that was it. I just needed to relax and start acting like a grown up. I needed to breathe.
Thank god I’d gone to all those Yoga classes with Avery. That controlled breathing came in handy. I was almost calm by the time we got back to the kitchen. Why was it, when you didn’t have a particular destination in mind in a house, you always end up in the kitchen? I watched Jeremy as he walked to the sink and filled to large glasses of water. What if I was single? What if the kiss wasn’t a mistake? What if. What if. I sighed.
