Instant Gratification (Always Satisfied Book 2)

by Lauren Blakely

  “Says the man who wears his Bluetooth at the gym.”

  “I was taking a call. And I had to because this is a cutthroat business. Sharks are swimming everywhere, and I need to protect my clients. I have to talk to them whenever they need me.”

  I arch a brow. “You’re proving my point exactly. You’re constantly on. You don’t have an off mode. I have to be the same.”

  “No. I’m telling you that sometimes you have to let things go.”

  “Why do I? Do you let things go? I don’t think you do.”

  He stabs a finger against his chest. “I’m as single as the day is long. Different boat, my friend. No one gets hurt when I work all hours. But you? You do. You love this woman, right?”

  “Did I say I loved her?”

  He rolls his eyes. “You’re such an asshole. You don’t have to say you love her. You don’t have to use the word love for it to be apparent. The way you told that story, it was stupidly obvious that you’re madly in love with her.”

  “‘Madly in love with her’?” I parrot, because there’s a hard shell over my heart right now, and I don’t even know how to crack it.

  Josh slows his pace and stares hard at me. “Yes. Madly in love, Jason. I don’t know about you, but if I felt the way you seem to feel, I’d like to think I wouldn’t let work stand in the way. Just food for thought.” He presses a button to end his workout. “And on that note, I have a meeting about the shortstop I’m trying to win.”

  “So you’re not letting work stand in the way, right?”

  He moves to the front of my bike and parks his hands on the handlebars. “I’m not in love with the shortstop, dickhead.”

  “Love you too, asshole.”

  When I return to my apartment, I Skype the one person who’ll understand. Abby answers on the first ring with a yawn. “It’s practically eleven p.m. Why are you calling me now?”

  “Because I love you.”

  “I love you too. But you never call this late unless something’s on your mind. Spill.”

  I flop onto my couch, my arm hanging off the side. “I’ve got to go to another wedding tonight. And it’s going to fucking suck.”

  “Why is it going to suck?”

  I grit my teeth then fume. “Because evidently I have feelings for Truly, but I can’t be with her, and yet I have to be with her at a wedding tonight. Doesn’t that just take the piss out of everything?”

  She laughs. “That takes the piss out of literally everything.”

  “I thought it was going to be easy until my friend Josh reminded me of one annoying fact.”

  “What did he remind you?”

  “Turns out I’m actually in love with her.”

  She smiles from across the ocean. “Aww. Love is awesome. Studies show hearts are healthier when you’re in love, so it’s good medicine too.”

  “Ah, so that’s what you’re learning in medical school.”

  “Pretty useful, wouldn’t you say? But why is being in love hard? I thought the issue was you being best mates with her brother?”

  “Who knew? Apparently the bastard is fine with it.”

  She pumps her fist. “Yay. That’s awesome!”

  “No, it’s not. It’s awful. Because there’s no time for love. Love is distracting, and nothing is working. Therefore, I’m pissed and annoyed, and I hate everything.”

  She stifles a laugh. “Poor you. But are you annoyed because of work or because you’re in love with her?”

  I sit up, dragging a hand through my hair. “Because I’m trying to meet these bills. I’m trying to make things happen,” I say, letting too much slip.

  She narrows her eyes. “Wait. Hold on. We had a deal. You were paying for my school, but not if it drove you mad. And clearly, you’re going mad. Barking mad, as Ron Weasley would say.”

  “He’s a twat.”

  “Don’t be harshing on my Weasley.”

  “Weasley is a twat, like me. Both of us are penniless twats.”

  “Wow. This is a whole new level of moping. Also, for the record, I’ll take out a loan for the rest of med school. I never wanted you to pay for it if it was going to make you miserable and work twenty-four seven, you daft idiot.”

  “Daft idiot?”

  “Oh, excuse me, like you’ve never heard me call you that before?”

  “No, I think you should’ve called me a daft prick though,” I say, and then a laugh I didn’t expect bursts from my chest. Because holy fuck. That’s exactly how I’m behaving. I’m behaving worse than the night I went to Walker’s club.

  “I should get ready for the wedding. I have to see Truly tonight, and I need to be one hundred percent focused on my client. Perhaps I should take up yoga in the next few minutes to get her out of my mind.”

  “Or maybe don’t?”

  “Don’t take up yoga?”

  “Don’t worry about getting her out of your mind, because that’s not where she is. She’s in your heart. And you’re so damn focused on work. You say it’s because of me and school and bills, and that’s true to some extent, but I swear, I can find a way to cover them. Or take out loans and still be just fine. Please don’t let me be the person who stands in your way.” She takes a beat, takes a breath. “But I don’t think I’m actually the reason.”

  “What? Are you kidding? I made you a promise, and I’m not breaking it.”

  She groans and moves even closer to the screen. “You’re not listening, Jason. I’m not talking about money. I’m talking about that heart of yours. You locked it in a cage after Claire left. It’s made you afraid. You’re afraid that you’re going to lose out, that you’re going to have to reinvent yourself like you did after Claire left. But things will always change. That’s life.” She clears her throat and dives back into it. “No matter what happens with Truly, you’re going to have to figure out what to do with work and where the Modern Gentleman goes next. Don’t you see my point?”

  “I’m not sure I do.” But for the first time all day, I start to shuck off my hard edge, my anger, my frustration. Because I want to understand my sister and what she’s telling me. Maybe, just maybe, I want to find a way to the other side of this terrible mess. “Try to help me see it.”

  She softens further, taking a lower, kinder tone. “The question is, do you want to sort out all these work issues on your own? Or do you want to sort them out with somebody who loves you and supports you, and probably wants to be there for you as you navigate your way through?”

  And like that, today becomes crystal clear.

  Thanks to my friends and my sister.

  I am indeed a daft idiot.

  I’m spiraling.

  I’m letting work get in the way of love. I’m letting old wounds reopen. I’m forgetting every piece of advice I’ve ever shared.

  I lost one bit on one show, but I was doing fine before. I can’t lose sight of all the other opportunities out there. Hell, I’ll be my own Ryder if no one wants me on their program.

  But I’m not concentrating on what matters.

  What matters is Truly.

  I might have lost the job, but I’m not going to lose the woman.

  That’s the advice that every man should follow, and I’m going to do so to the letter tonight.

  48

  Jason

  The thing about getting your shit together is it doesn’t always work like it does in the movies. Just because you figure out how to remove your skull from your ass doesn’t mean you can cut across Midtown traffic like you’re the star of the show.

  Nor does it mean the woman will answer the phone.

  I keep calling Truly to see if I can meet her ahead of Enzo’s ceremony, but I reach voicemail every time. I hope she’s not abandoning me before the wedding, but if she does, I deserve it.

  I get dressed quickly, putting on my tux and knotting the bow tie, and catch a cab to the hotel where the happy couple will exchange vows in a flower-festooned ballroom. I search for Truly in the lobby, down the hall, and around th
e corner.

  I don’t see her, and a knot of worry tightens in me.

  I poke my head into the ballroom, scanning the seats. She’s not here early. I’m dying to wait on the front steps for her, but I can’t spend any more time on this mission just now.

  Because here’s the other thing: commitments matter. A man should keep his promises. I need to stick to mine, so I put my phone away, join the groom, and head to the front of the room.

  Wondering where Truly is when she hasn’t appeared by the time the ceremony begins, I take my place by Enzo’s side as he promises to love Valerie for the rest of their lives. As he kisses her, I’m struck by a certainty—he will. I have no doubt, just like I don’t doubt Chip’s love, or Gavin’s, for that matter.

  The men I’ve stood for might have needed help in the friend department, but not in the love department. They’ve all seemed true to their hearts, and looking back, I’ve learned something from each of them.

  Find a woman you want to spend each day with. Find someone who shares your passion. And give the woman what she wants.

  What does Truly want?

  As I flash back to the diner, the way she looked when I arrived, how she wanted to share her thoughts with me, I could smack myself. She came to the diner to talk to me about her news, and I made it all about me, me, me. And even when I did, she defended me. She told me The Consummate Wingman had been lucky to have me. And when I said love was distracting, she didn’t answer with a yes.

  She answered with It can be distracting, but it can also maybe be something . . .

  Something wonderful. Maybe that was what she was going to say before I cut her off.

  When I spot her at last in the back row, wiping her eye as Enzo and Valerie slide on rings, I can’t wait to tell her that I agree.

  I mouth, “Wait for me.”

  She gives a quick, crisp nod that does nothing to ease my mind. But that’s not the point. I don’t get to have my mind eased. I need to ease hers.

  I wait till Enzo kisses his bride.

  I wait till they’re declared man and wife.

  I wait till they walk down the aisle into their happily ever after.

  Then I steal time.

  I practically run past the rows of people, stopping inches from her. “I was a daft prick today. You should bang my head against the wall.”

  “Is that so?” she asks, careful and measured.

  “Bricks would fall out of it if you banged it hard enough. Or even pigs, because I was stupid and pigheaded.”

  She raises an eyebrow. “There are pigs in your head?”

  “There must be, or what other excuse is there for how I behaved? But I know this: when a man has made a mistake, he should own up to it. And I want to own up to mine.”

  She’s deliberate, taking her time as she asks, “What mistakes do you think you made?”

  “Oh, the list is a mile long. But let’s start at the top. How about the time I said falling in love is absolutely fucking distracting and ruined everything we’ve built? That was a horrible mistake. Because love hasn’t ruined a damn thing. In fact, I think it’s made everything better.” I lock eyes with her, waiting, hoping. Hers seem to sparkle a little more than a moment before.

  “What do you think?” I press.

  “I do think love can make everything better,” she says, still careful in her tone.

  “And another mistake is when you said, Love can be distracting, but it can also maybe be something, and I answered it all wrong. Completely wrong.”

  A smile plays across her lips. “Would you like a do-over on that answer?”

  “Yes.” I cup her cheek, and she lets me. She doesn’t turn away, even as a woman slides past us to walk out of the aisle and out to the foyer where waitstaff serve sushi appetizers. “Love is distracting, but it’s also something wonderful.”

  She seems to fight off a smile—a huge, winning grin. “It is wonderful.”

  I thread my hand through her hair, so damn grateful to touch her again. “I need you. I want you. I love you, Truly, and I love you in a way that terrifies me and thrills me too. And I think that scared me more than anything. I thought I’d protected my heart from hurt, but I can’t keep it safe from you. And here’s the thing—I don’t want to.”

  She sets her hand on my chest. “I’ll keep it safe for you.”

  This woman. My God. My heart thunders in my chest, beating madly with this barrage of emotions. And with emotions come words. “I want to give you everything you want, and everything you need. If that investor can’t realize what he has in front of him, then let me be the one you lean on. Let me be the one you talk to. Let me be the one who helps you figure out what to do next.”

  “You’d do that? You want that? Are you sure?”

  My answer is straight from the heart. “I should have done that earlier today. I know now that’s what you were looking for, and I want to be the one who supports you. Will you let me?”

  She melts against me. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  I press my forehead to hers as I learn something new. Sometimes you do need to beg when it comes to asking the woman you love to have you again. But beg like a gentleman. “Then will you please take me back?”

  She laughs, and her laughter turns to happy tears. “I don’t want to curl up at the end of the day with work. I want to curl up with you. And we can help each other when work doesn’t go our way. You’re the one I want to depend on, because I’m in love with you.”

  My heart soars—out of the hotel, up to the stratosphere, far, far away from me. I no longer have any control of it. Maybe I never did. Maybe it’s simply time to let go of my fears, the true shackles that were holding me back. To let go and love again.

  Or really, to love in a whole new way.

  Because this is real love. The forever kind.

  “I can’t believe I was stupid enough to almost let you get away.” I haul her in for a kiss.

  When I break it, she says, “Simple solution: don’t let me get away again.”

  “I can do that. I can definitely do that.” I take her hand, and we head into the reception where I give a kick-ass toast.

  Valerie thanks me with such earnestness that I scrap any notion that she sabotaged me. The job simply didn’t happen, end of story. There will be others.

  But love? As I’ve learned from the men who’ve hired me, you don’t let that slip away.

  In fact, you don’t let it get away even if Coldplay is playing.

  I groan when Walker puts on a tune from the band that kills eardrums. “Is it Armageddon?” I mouth to him.

  He shrugs impishly.

  At the head table, Enzo’s eyes light up. “I love Coldplay. They are big in Madrid.”

  “Oh, Enzo, I’m going to have to introduce you to U2 and Panic! at the Disco and Arcade Fire,” Valerie says.

  I turn to her. “You like all those bands?”

  “That surprises you?”

  “Actually, no. You have excellent taste.”

  She runs a hand down her husband’s arm. “I do indeed.”

  He winks. “She has the best taste. But then again, so do I.”

  “We both have impeccable taste, my love.”

  He stands and offers her his hand. “Then come with me and make me look good on the dance floor.”

  “I believe it’s the other way around.” She joins him, and they sway.

  Truly reaches for my hand, mischief in her eyes. “Dance with me, you Coldplay hater.”

  “Seriously? You do know it’s a deep and powerful loathing?”

  “I know. I definitely know. Don’t forget, I know a lot about you, and I still like you.”

  “Let’s keep it that way.”

  “Then let’s dance.”

  “Well, I’m not going to make the mistake of turning you down.” I take her to the dance floor for a spin, and somehow I survive the song. That makes me realize something important. “I must really dig you if I can dance to this song with you.”r />
  She clasps my cheek and plants a kiss on my lips.

  Yes, I can tolerate Coldplay a hell of a lot like this.

  A little later, I head over to the deejay stand, leaning against it, surveying the vestiges of the reception.

  Walker lifts his brow. “I see you’re starting to get your act together.”

  “Am I now?”

  He strokes his chin, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Let’s see. First time I’ve seen you at a wedding where you look legitimately one hundred percent happy.”

  “Are you saying I’ve been a grumpy bugger at other ceremonies?”

  He shakes his head as he packs up his gear. “Not at all. But there’s a difference between the charm you serve up as a best man for hire and the way you are when you’re with Truly.”

  “You’ve been studying me? I suppose that’s understandable. I am fascinating.”

  “Human nature is fascinating. You happen to occupy an interesting niche of it.”

  I pat his speaker. “And your niche? Are you simply a fill-in deejay now?”

  He flashes a satisfied smile. “Just filling in for a buddy. But I’m no longer taking any new gigs. And I do believe I’ve achieved nirvana.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yeah. That is so. I’m doing what I want. Took me a while to get here, but I’m here. I’m happy to help out a friend now and then, but for the most part, I’m on the other side.”

  “You’ve made it. You’ve caught your dreams. Like that Thoreau quote: Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you’ve imagined.”

  “You’ll get there too. Just don’t take too long to press go.”

  “I’ve been formulating a plan all night. Mulling over options. I have an exit strategy, and I’m pretty sure I’m going to put it in motion tonight. I don’t have a safety net, but I don’t care. It’s time to move on.”

  He holds up a fist to knock. “You’re doing it? Going after what you really want?”

  I knock back. “I’ve decided. I’m going all in on the Modern Gentleman. No more half this, half that. I can’t keep playing both angles. I’ll be letting this go.” I sweep my arms wide to encompass the ballroom.