Until We're More

by Cindi Madsen

  “Just remember, this is for your own good.” Chelsea curled her hand around the back of the cat’s neck and stuck something in its mouth. He fought for a second, whipping his head back and forth before a resigned expression crossed his whiskered face.

  Chelsea glanced at me, and my what the fuck is she doing? thoughts must’ve shown because she said, “George has gingivitis, so I have to brush his teeth. He hated it at first, but now he deals with it. Mostly because I spring for the tuna toothpaste he likes.”

  She jerked her chin toward the tube on the coffee table, which looked pretty damn close to the kind I bought at the grocery store.

  Note to self: read the toothpaste labels carefully from now on.

  I grabbed a water bottle out of the fridge and sat in the gaming chair I used when I miraculously had time to play. “I made a few calls this morning and got things covered at the gym, so we’ve got the whole weekend.” The idea made me twitchy, my pessimistic side insisting the place would fall apart without my barking orders, but Finn assured me he could take care of everything. Better yet, Brooklyn promised to spend a few extra hours there keeping everyone in line. I’d be behind when I went in again, but what else was new? “What do you want to do?”

  Chelsea released her grip on George, and he darted away, choosing the entertainment center for coverage. “Ooh, remember that awesome used bookstore downtown? I’ve missed that place.” She tapped a finger to her lips. “No, you won’t want to do that. I can go another time.”

  Considering the amount of books she’d pulled out of her suitcase, she wasn’t in danger of running out of stories while she was here, but I was a sucker when it came to keeping Chelsea happy. “I’ll go with you. It’s been a long time since I was dragged to a bookstore.”

  “The last time I dragged you, I assume?”

  “Yep.”

  She grinned, seemingly proud of how easily she could get her way with me. Like I said, total sucker. Not to mention I felt like someone should care about her happiness, and unlike her family, I did. “Then afterward we can grab food and go to a movie. Non–book related. Shoot ’em up, blow ’em up, whatever.” She leaned toward me conspiratorially and lowered her voice. “Don’t tell anyone, but I sorta missed action movies.”

  “You could watch them without me, you know.”

  Her jaw dropped. “You hush your mouth. Then who would I annoy by pointing out plot holes? Who would I rant to about the helpless girls who never wear bras or clothes conducive to all the running they inevitably end up doing?”

  “You just described the perfect movie.”

  She tilted her head, doing her best to shoot me a dirty look, but she could never hold them, something I often teased her about. Sure enough, her smile broke through.

  I hated to do anything that would dampen the mood, but in order to find a way to keep her from being stressed about her job during our day together, I needed to know why she acted so anxious anytime it was mentioned. “But maybe before we get to that, you can tell me what’s got you so nervous about your job.”

  Damn it, there went the smile. If I thought leaving it alone would help her, I wouldn’t have brought it up. But if there was a chance I could fix it, I had to try. “Come on, Chels. I can read you, so I know there’s more going on than you’re letting on.”

  “Guess this is the downside to staying with someone who actually pays attention to me.”

  That stung on two levels, even as I told myself I would be the guy who pushed her if I needed to be. At least pushing people beyond what they thought were their limits was something I was qualified for.

  “I…” She sat up and picked at a nonexistent thread on the arm of the couch. “At my last employee review, when I asked what I needed to do to start advancing, they told me I have to learn how to be more assertive. I thought I’d grown so much in that department, but it’s not enough. I practically had to beg them to let me be on the team to open this branch, and I need to prove I can be a boss so they don’t settle me into a permanent minion position.”

  I nodded, soaking it in. “Well, you’re in luck. I just so happen to know how to be bossy and assertive.”

  She pressed her lips together as if she had to fight back a laugh.

  “What? I do.”

  “Oh, I know. But you’ve got it easy. You’ve got your size on your side.” She gestured at me, making a big circle to encompass me from head to toe. “Having all that going on automatically makes people listen to everything you say.”

  “That definitely helps. But it doesn’t mean you can’t learn how to be more assertive or that I can’t teach you those skills.”

  She bit her thumbnail. “You’re right. I just hate asking for help, especially after insisting I can take care of myself. Which I can.”

  “Hey.” I moved from the chair to the spot next to her on the couch. “I know you can. That doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with asking friends for help. We can get Brooklyn to pitch in, too. Grown men twice her size are scared of her. Even Shane was a little scared at first, though he probably won’t admit it.”

  “True,” Chelsea said with a laugh. “Both about people fearing her and about him not admitting it.” She shook her head. “You guys and your massive egos.”

  I frowned, because I didn’t have an ego problem, but she kept right on talking.

  “And I feel like yesterday’s self-defense class helped, in a different way than I expected. It made me feel stronger, not only physically but also because I managed not to feel self-conscious while everyone was staring at us while we demonstrated. Now I just have to learn how to transfer that to an office setting, although it’s going to take a lot of pushing past my comfort level. I’m afraid getting a promotion is going to be all about faking it till I make it.”

  I tried not to let that go to the dirty side in my mind, and I bit back a comment about women not needing to fake anything with me. The temperature rose a couple degrees as I took in her long legs and pink nail polish. There was something sexy about tiny pink toenails.

  Don’t even think about going there. I reached for my water bottle and took another swig. Then I forced my stray thoughts to return to what she needed—make that, to what she needed for her job. “We’ll spend our weekend kicking back and having as much fun as possible, but we’re also going to sneak in a few tips for your job and how to make sure you kick ass and show your boss that you can command a room.”

  She nodded. “Okay. Bookstore, movies, and assertive lessons. Pretty sure we’ve planned the perfect day.”

  Now that was something we agreed on.

  …

  Like my movies, I favored books with explosions and violence. But like my plight with both pets and girls, I didn’t have much time for reading. I usually stuck to news and sports, although thanks to Chelsea’s frequent bookstore habit and her tendency to drag me along—originally, it’d been a lack-of-car issue, but then she’d claimed she could use someone to help her cull her pile. Never mind that I blindly pointed most of the time, totally judging books by their covers, and that she ignored my advice on what she should or shouldn’t buy at least as often as she took it. Anyway, somewhere along the line, I’d gotten into this Warhammer 40,000 space marines series. Occasionally I listened to them on audio while I ran, but it’d been a while.

  I found a used paperback for half the price of a new one and tucked it under my arm, sure Chelsea would be thrilled I was buying a book. I circled the store one more time, and then made my way to where I’d last spotted a glimpse of her red hair. After her shower she’d left it down, and I’d almost told her it looked good a bit wild, but then thought she might find it strange I’d noticed.

  And why couldn’t I stop noticing every little thing about her?

  As I rounded one of the shelves, I spotted her. Seated on the floor in the general fiction section, talking to a guy who’d obviously also noticed how good she looked today. He was crouched in front of her, a goofy lovestruck grin on his face. He said something,
and she laughed, and a weird pinch twisted my gut.

  All protection. Definitely. Nothing that my brother and sister had often accused me of feeling for Chelsea. They didn’t understand that she was one of my very favorite people, and since I planned on continuing to be one of hers, friends was all it’d ever be. Even keeping things to that, I was too rough around the edges for her. Too different. Too a lot of things, but luckily she’d never minded, going so far as to wave off comments about it, from other people and from me.

  I strode toward them, and the guy’s eyes widened. He gave Chelsea a nervous smile, straightened, and slowly backed away. Smart choice.

  “Seriously?” she asked the second he’d disappeared around the corner, her eyes firing accusations up at me. “That’s the first guy who’s approached me in months.”

  I shrugged. “I didn’t say a word.”

  She cocked her head and huffed. “Yeah, but you looked at him like you were plotting his dismemberment.”

  “Only if he hurt you—call it a fair warning.” Guilt started to set in. I didn’t make it easy for her to have other friends or to date, even as I told myself she’d be better off expanding her circle of people. Another reason it was good she’d taken that job in Denver. “Did you want me to go scare him back your way?”

  A noise somewhere between disbelief and a laugh escaped her lips. “It wasn’t even like that anyway. We were just talking about a book series.”

  “Sure.” See? She assumed the best about people, naively thinking the only reason a guy would approach her was to dissect plotlines. Hell, we were just friends and I’d been roped into discussing books with her.

  She sighed, as if talking sense into me about this was a lost cause, and it was. This whole outing further demonstrated why she was better off in another state, where I couldn’t interfere in her dating life, no matter how badly I wanted to. She’d been hurt before, though, and was it so bad to take steps to ensure it didn’t happen again?

  “I didn’t mean to be so intimidating. It was an accident.” Okay, it totally wasn’t. “It’s part of my job, and I can’t just turn it off.” That part might be true.

  Chelsea shoved a giant stack of books into my hands and then unfolded herself from her crossed-leg position, using my forearm to pull herself up. Her gaze went to the book under my arm, and when she jerked it, I nearly lost my grip on the teetering pile. “You found a book! Yay!”

  I readjusted the stack. For things filled with nothing but paper, books were heavier than you’d expect, especially when there were…five, six…seven of them. “How many of these have you read already?”

  Guilt flickered across her features, then resolve crept into the set of her chin. “Only two, but one of them is a special edition. Of course, if I get it, I’ll need to find the other special-edition books in the series or they won’t match up on my bookshelf, and that’ll drive me crazy.”

  “Naturally.”

  She flopped my paperback on the top of the pile.

  “To the cash register?” I asked.

  “Yep. Oh wait, I didn’t check the sci-fi section yet, and—”

  I shifted the books, holding them tight against my stomach, and caught her arm before she managed to zip around the corner and get lost for another hour. “Later. If I don’t eat something soon, I’m going to be crabby.”

  “Going to be?” she teased. “If I feed you, and a guy hits on me by some miracle, will I actually get to talk to him for a few minutes?”

  I grunted, and she laughed and shook her head. As the woman behind the register reached for the books, I spotted the guy I’d scared off one row over. I turned to Chelsea, already regretting what I was about to do but making myself do it anyway. “Romeo is hovering around the sci-fi section. Go get his number.”

  A blush spread across her cheeks. “I can’t do that.”

  “If I go and ask on your behalf, he’ll probably run. And if I have to tackle him, I’m pretty sure you’ll never get a date.”

  She rolled her eyes, but her smile spread. That pinch that wasn’t jealousy rose up again, and I realized there might be a hint of jealousy. Because she was supposed to be all mine while she was here. I didn’t want to share. But as I’d mentioned before, I was a sucker when it came to keeping her happy, and that part about him being the first guy to approach her in a long time dug at me. Evidently she was surrounded by a lot of stupid, wussy guys, and I couldn’t have her thinking she wasn’t worth approaching.

  Then there was the other thing I’d managed to forget. I was supposed to be teaching her how to go after what she wanted. “Didn’t you mention that your bosses want you to be more assertive? And you said yourself that you needed to learn to push past your comfort level.”

  Her mouth opened and closed like she wanted to argue. “Fine. I could, perhaps, use a smidgen of practice with that. Gee, thanks for not holding it against me.”

  “You’re welcome,” I said, ignoring her sarcasm. I nudged her in the guy’s direction. “Go talk to him and I’ll buy your books.”

  “Oh, no. I can’t ask you to do that.”

  “You’re not asking. I owe you for scaring him off.” I gave her another nudge. She wobbled slightly, her stiff posture softening a fraction. “Come on, Jessop. Show me what you’re made of.”

  After another glance at my face—which I made sure conveyed the same mix of you can do it and I’m not backing down I gave my fighters—she quickly spun around. So much determination entered her steady stride that I worried the pansy might run from her now.

  Having a relationship with a nice, nerdy guy like that would be good for her. I wanted that for Chelsea, but at the same time, the idea grated on my nerves. Hell, I didn’t know what I wanted. Why’d this side of me choose now to come out?

  It’s just because I miss her. I’d experienced how much it sucked when she wasn’t around, which would happen more and more if she started dating Bookstore Bro.

  “How’s your day going?” the cashier asked.

  “Fine.”

  “Ooh, I love this whole trilogy.” She picked up the next book and scanned it. “This series is a great one, too. Did you hear that they’re making a movie out of it?”

  One Chelsea would undoubtedly be disappointed in. Instead of scanning in the next few books, the cashier paused, clearly wanting an answer, and probably one that matched her enthusiasm. “They’re not mine.”

  She nodded a few times and gave up on the small talk, thank goodness, leaving me free to return to thinking about how much I didn’t want Chelsea to be busy with other people in the limited time she was here.

  But I’d be nonstop busy training Finn as we continued working to restore Team Domination’s name anyway, and after that, I’d get even busier as I busted my ass to prepare for my own fight and keep all the momentum we’d built going.

  Maybe if things were different and I could actually…

  But they’re not. So don’t even go there.

  The cashier announced the grand total, and I handed over my debit card. Add one more reason I can’t be that guy for her, I sarcastically thought, grasping at straws to ease the irritation coursing through me. I’m not sure I could afford her book habit.

  Chapter Five

  Chelsea

  Did I even want Kevin’s number? The adrenaline from striding up to him in the bookstore for my second chance was beginning to wear off, and now I couldn’t tell. Yeah, I’d made a big deal about how he’d been the first guy to approach me in months—my last date came after chatting online for a few weeks, and I’d been the one to initiate meeting up—but as he droned on about the series we’d already discussed in-depth, I was having trouble summoning up excitement.

  As if that wasn’t enough to cause doubts to creep in, I slipped and did the thing. The thing I always accidentally did with guys. I compared him to Liam.

  Liam’s not an option. Hello, he sent you over to get this guy’s number. It didn’t matter if Liam was serious in a different, fascinating way; that his dr
ive and the way he cared for his family was as attractive as it was consuming; if his deep voice caused a cascade of tingles and he had this way of making me laugh, even as he was frustrating the crap out of me.

  I was getting caught up in the wrong details and losing perspective on why I’d pushed myself to come over to Kevin. Like Liam said, it would be good training on how to push past my comfort zone and be more assertive. To just unapologetically put things out there, no holding back as I thought of all the ways I might fail.

  “…really takes a cool turn in book five.”

  Then again, maybe he truly does just want to talk literature.

  Disappointment flickered through me as the spark of interest relit. A lot of the other guys I’d dated didn’t appreciate my bookish conversations, and here I was blowing off a perfectly good prospect before getting to know him.

  “As I mentioned earlier, book three was my favorite so far, but I’m looking forward to the next one. I think a lot of the big things the series has been leading up to are going to come to a head.” I leaned my back against the shelf, but it wasn’t as sturdy as I’d expected, and when it wobbled, I nearly tipped it and myself over. I flung myself forward, ramming my shin into the step stool someone had left in the center of the aisle, which knocked it right into the journal display, and several of the books fell to the floor.

  Ouch, shit, ow.

  I dropped down to scoop up the colorful journals, and Kevin helped by grabbing a few. I looked into his hazel—not blue—eyes, and then told myself to stop comparing and blurted out, “We should go out sometime.”