by Shae Banks
He was sitting by the window when I walked inside. I took a minute to get myself together and ordered myself a drink before I went to the table, the coffee mug rattling on its saucer in my shaking hands.
It didn’t help that he was staring at his phone. I could see what he was looking at over his shoulder. Me. He got my message and was looking at my profile. Stalker.
He was wearing a white t-shirt and he looked tense, his shoulder muscles visible through his top. His hair was pushed back, held there with what I assumed to be a shit ton of wax, and he was resting his head on two fingers, elbow on the chair arm.
Summoning every ounce of courage I could, I said, “Hiya.”
He looked up immediately, that smile knocking me sideways. Bastard.
He shoved his phone into his pocket as he got up. “Nat. You look… Thanks for… Umm…”
I sat down and put my mug down in front of me. “I look hungover.”
He pulled a face. “A bit… Have you eaten?”
I shook my head and breathed in the scent of the coffee. “I’m okay.”
He sat opposite me and picked up his own mug, but didn’t drink. “Thanks for coming.”
I looked at him over the rim of my mug as I sipped the hot, black, life-giving liquid and tried not to groan at how good it felt. “Don’t mention it.”
He watched me for a moment, seemingly unsure of what to say to me.
“Are we going to sit here and stare at each other, or do you have something you want to get off your chest?” I asked.
His brows pulled in, but he didn’t speak.
“Because I have other things to do,” I added.
“I just wanted to talk. See how you’ve been. Catch up.”
I took another sip of coffee, giving him a sceptical look. “Like old friends? I don’t remember parting on friendly terms, Jase.”
“I just wanted to… Well, the way I just left was…” He paused and took a breath. “What I mean is, I shouldn’t have vanished like I did. It wasn’t fair to you. I wasn’t thinking. I was stupid, and it was… Well, it was…”
His fluctuating nervousness gave me a little kick of confidence, and I put the mug down. “It was a shitty thing to do, Jase. You didn’t even manage to dump me by text. You just vanished. You ghosted me before it even had a name.”
He looked at his hands. The spark of confidence grew, and before I knew what I was saying I added, “Do you know what that shit does to an eighteen-year-old girl?”
He didn’t, he couldn’t possibly. It wasn’t a fair question, but it wasn’t a fair situation. He wanted to see me, he’d put himself in the firing line. “You ruined my confidence, Jase. You took that from me when I needed it most, and the fight to get it back—"
“I made a mistake,” he said, cutting me off.
“Yeah.” I picked up my mug, sat back, and sipped my coffee, watching him. “You did.”
He was quiet for a minute. Maybe two. Then he broke the tense silence by asking, “So, how’ve you been?”
I shrugged. No way was I getting into that. Not with him.
“You said you’re in admin?” he enquired.
I nodded once.
“Married?” he pressed.
My answer was reluctant. “Divorced.”
“Kids?”
I couldn’t stop the bitter sniff. “No. None of that particular baggage, thankfully.”
I saw his eyebrows pull in slightly and his head jerk back just a fraction before his features smoothed out and he smiled. “You look well.”
I really did laugh, then. “Wow.”
He gave me a confused look. “What?”
“That’s a very polite way of telling me I gained weight. I was already aware, but, you know… Thanks.”
He looked horrified. “Is it? No. That’s not what I was… Jesus, Nat, don’t you take compliments at all anymore?”
“They’ve been thin on the ground,” I responded, glancing out the window. “You left me. That wasn’t really much of a compliment, was it? Then my marriage ended… Well, there weren’t many compliments there, either. To be honest, I can’t remember the last time anyone gave me one so no, I don’t suppose I do.”
When I glanced back at him, he looked wounded. I don’t know why, but guilt pricked at me. “Okay, that wasn’t fair… I’m sorry, Jase, but I don’t know what I’m here for. I don’t think there’s anything left to say. I shouldn’t have come.”
Something changed in him. He sat up straighter and his obvious awkwardness vanished. “You came because you wanted to see me.”
He said this with such confidence, I was forced to pay closer attention. I gave him ten out of ten for bravado. He wasn’t far off, however much I hated to admit it. I sipped my coffee.
“You wanted to talk to me three weeks ago, but didn’t know what to say. You would have spoken to me last night if Haylie hadn’t been there. You’re here now for the same reason I am.” He watched me for a second, then looked over at the bar. “Excuse me while I order another drink. Do you want another one?”
I shook my head, confused. One second, he was walking on eggshells, then he was all confidence and telling me what was, and then he was walking away. I looked across the room to watch him order, his words going around in my head.
By the time he returned, I was more than halfway through my drink and looking out of the window. It was almost three, and the bar was getting busy, the noise level increasing as groups gathered around us and drinks began flowing. He didn’t seem too bothered and picked up exactly where he’d left off.
“You’re here, Nathalie, because you have questions you need answered.”
“Do I?” I asked with a small laugh. “Such as?”
He leaned forward, holding my gaze. “Why did it feel like that when you realized it was me?”
My mouth suddenly felt parched. He couldn’t possibly know what I felt when I saw him. Could he? How did he know my body responded to him as it had the last time we were together? Was he guessing? Had I not managed to hide it? “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He sat back in his seat and chewed at his thumbnail, watching me intently. My cheeks heated, not because of what he’d just called me out on, but because of how he was looking at me. Like he still knew me. Like he intended to get to know the parts of me that had changed. I was frozen. I couldn’t move. His eyes didn’t leave mine, and panic constricted my chest. I took a deep, shaky breath.
He clearly recognized it all. I could tell by his expression that he remembered how my breathing would change when I was nervous. Or excited. He smirked and looked away, picking up his drink. “Will you have dinner with me?”
The change in topic confused me. “What?”
“Dinner, tomorrow.”
My brain screamed no. No, no, no.
My mouth moved. “Why?”
“To satisfy the curiosity.”
Then, of all the stupid questions to follow up with, I asked, “Where?”
There was triumph in his smile. I was furious with myself. “The Plaza. Eight o’clock.”
It went against every shred of judgment I had, but he was right. I wanted to know why. I wanted to know why I felt this way when he was close. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that it meant I was a complete idiot, but the least he owed me was dinner and some sort of explanation after the shit he pulled. “Okay.”
He looked surprised. “Great. Shall I pick you up?”
I shook my head and put my mug on its saucer. “No. I’ll drive. I have work Monday morning, so I can’t drink.”
He nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
“I have to go. I only put an hour and a half on my parking ticket,” I said, getting up.
He stood up and grinned, his azure eyes searching my face. “Thank you.”
“Yeah. Well, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I gave him a brief smile and went to step around him, but he blocked my path and leaned forward, brushing his lips against m
y cheek. He stayed there, so close I could smell his aftershave, feel the few days growth of stubble across his jaw. My breath caught in my throat as I waited for him to say something. He took a breath, and a tingle ran down my neck and spine. I wanted to turn my head and look at him, but I daren’t.
“Thank you, Nathalie,” he murmured at last, his voice low in my ear. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
I took a step forward, and he moved aside. I took another and another, gripping my handbag with both hands as I made my way out of the bar and onto the safety of the street.
I joined the crowd, weaving in and out, lost in my thoughts. I shouldn’t have agreed to dinner. I shouldn’t have agreed to coffee, which had led to dinner. I didn’t want to know why I felt the way I did when I was with him. We were different people now. Yeah, I still held that grudge, but it wasn’t a demon I needed to exorcise. The whole experience served as a lesson, one I should have learned a long before I actually did. With my headache clearing, I checked my phone then pressed the call button twice.
“Get up.”
Haylie groaned. I waited. Eventually, she asked, “What… Why?”
“Get your shit together, we’ll make the gym.”
“Coffee was that bad?” she asked, waking herself up.
“Worse. I’ll pick you up, just borrow some of my spare gym clothes and throw some in a bag for me. They’re in the middle drawer.”
“For fuck’s sake.”
I smirked when she hung up on me.
I took a detour, visiting a small deli for a couple of salads before I went to my car. I arrived with five minutes left on my ticket, threw my bags onto the passenger seat, and fastened my seatbelt, but didn’t start the engine. Instead, I rested my forehead against the steering wheel and took a few breaths. Why had I done that? Was I just punishing myself? Did I really want to revisit the past? I didn’t think I did, but the thought of seeing him again was already sending a flutter of excitement spreading through my stomach. “Shit.”
Pulling myself together, I started the car and backed out of my space. Windows down, I turned the radio up and started singing along as I rolled out of the car park. Another car roared into life on my left, and I was sure I caught sight of Jase, but it was moving too fast. The car followed me out, and I caught a glimpse in my rearview mirror as it turned in the opposite direction to me. There was no way that was him. Not driving that. I was no expert, but a BMW i8 was easily a one hundred and twenty grand car. Engineers didn’t drive those things.
Chapter Five
Haylie looked like shit. I didn’t feel fantastic either, but I knew the workout would help.
We’d stopped for a drink and a rest, she leaned against the wall at the back of the gym where we attended our kettlebell class. She didn’t really like it, but she’d joined to lend me some support when my physiotherapist suggested I try it. I loved it. It helped me build enough strength where I didn’t have to attend physio appointments anymore, and the exercise made me feel good. For a short time, at least.
“Who goes out for dinner on a Sunday night?”
“Someone who doesn’t want to end up drinking too much and doing something stupid.”
She looked at me with her brows raised. “If you really hate him so much, why agree to meet him a second time?”
I scowled at her and took a long drink of water.
“Unless you’re planning to get him out of your system properly.”
I almost choked. “That is not what—”
“Why else would he invite you to a hotel? He wants to get into your pants for old times’ sake. Bet you.” She wiggled her brows over her water bottle then lowered it slowly. “Unless… oh, my god. Are you after scratching that itch?”
I looked at her in horror. “Absolutely not!”
“So, you admit to the itch?” she asked smugly.
“No.”
She rolled her eyes. “Ugh. Why else would you go to the trouble?”
“I…” I didn’t have an answer. I could see how she’d come to that conclusion, but I was certain the very last thing on my mind was jumping in the sack with him. I didn’t want to be in bed with anyone, except her when she couldn’t get her drunken arse home of course. She was the exception. She hadn’t betrayed me, hurt me, broken my heart. Not yet, anyway. There was still time. I never ruled anything out. “He wants to make it up to me. I don’t know how he plans to do that, but it’s costing me nothing to let him try. It might even help me get over it, it’s been long enough.”
It was only there for a second, the look of pity, but I saw it. She covered it by saying, “Whatever. Just tell him if he hurts you again I’ll string him up by the balls.”
I stared after her as she went back to her exercise space to resume the session. I didn’t know what she wanted from me. I walked away the first time I saw him. I was happy to let him pass through without so much as a conversation. She invited him to sit with us at the bar. She instigated his presence in my life, not me.
“What are you wearing?” she asked, breathless as the workout resumed.
“I don’t know. I hadn’t thought about it.”
“Dress. Definitely wear that dress.” I ignored her. She carried on. “You need to wow him.”
“I do not. It’s dinner, it’s him trying to make up for something that slaughtered my confidence. He won’t manage it, but I get a free dinner while watching him squirm. I won’t see him again after tomorrow.”
“You reckon?”
“Yes. I’m certain.” I knew she would have called bullshit if she could breathe. Thankfully, she was knackered and had to concentrate hard on not smashing herself in the face with her kettlebell.
We ate our warm salads in the car outside her house. I dodged any more talk of Jase, and when I finally got her to leave, I went home and ran a bath. I loved a good workout, but they left me aching. It was a good ache, it meant everything was working, but I couldn’t sleep with it. I didn’t think I was going to sleep much anyway with today’s events spinning around in my head, but the bath was supposed to help.
I laid there soaking when I heard a notification alert on my phone. I reached for it and opened the app to see it was Jason. His friend request was still there, staring at me. I’d just put the thing down when another came in. I turned it back on to find a message in the app.
Still not friends then?
I looked at the message for a minute. Could we be?
Not yet. No.
I saw three little dots bouncing at the bottom of the screen and waited.
So, we could be?
Maybe.
He sent back a fist bump emoji, and despite being pissed off at him I laughed, closing the app. It was strange, but I wasn’t anxious about the following night. He’d been quite intense in the bar earlier, but just then he seemed more like the Jason I remembered. I knew that wasn’t possible. He wasn’t the same person he’d been back then. Neither of us were.
I supposed that meant I should give him the benefit of the doubt. He wasn’t the same guy any more than I was the girl he ran out on. People changed. Didn’t they?
The possibility of him being different now brought tears to my eyes. It was years ago, but it hurt like it was yesterday. Did he really feel remorse for what he’d done? He sounded sincere enough. There was no other reason for him to be chasing me, begging for my forgiveness. I believed our meeting was one of chance. There was no way he could know I’d be there that night, was there? Nobody was that weird.
More memories, ones I’d kept buried for years, surfaced to remind me that yes, they could. People did some weird shit when they got stupid ideas in their heads. I’d seen just how crazy it could get first hand. I dropped the phone and sank beneath the water. You can’t cry under water, and I was done crying. I’d cried enough over Jase and every bad decision I’d made since. I’d decided to see him again, I wasn’t going to cry over it until there was something to cry about, and so far, all he’d done was promise to earn forgiveness a
nd make me smile.
When I was out of air, I sat up and wiped the water from my face. My phone was going nuts.
I picked it up and without thinking, accepted the incoming video call.
“What’s up?” I asked, expecting to see Haylie’s face. My eyes widened slightly as I looked directly at Jason’s amused face.
“You’re definitely coming tomorrow?”
My wet hair was hanging in tails around my face and it was obvious I was in the bath. I stared at the screen.
“Jase… I’m a bit busy.”
He appeared to be a laid on a bed, the white sheets behind him showing the bright blue of his eyes. There was a small smile tugging at his mouth. “I can see that. Are you still joining me tomorrow?”
I couldn’t believe what he was asking. He’d video called me for that? “Really?”
“Really, what?”
“Are you this needy? Are you going to check every,” I did the math in my head, “four hours to make sure I don’t stand you up?”
He looked thoughtful then smiled, raising his brows. “I wasn’t going to, but that’s an excellent idea.”
I sighed and wiped a few drops of water from my face. “I should have never accepted your message.”
“But you did, so now I can keep checking in,” he said grinning.
“If I turn off my phone you’ll just have to sweat it out, won’t you?”
He shrugged, and I noticed the beautifully tanned skin of his muscled shoulder come into view. He’d filled out considerably over the years, in a good way, and he obviously worked out.
“I’m going now.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I’m not dressed for company.”
“You’re not dressed at all, Nat. You’re in the bath.”
My cheeks heated, and I almost groaned when I saw the evidence in the tiny video call window and watched him studying my face. “Goodbye, Jason.”
“Tomorrow?” There was genuine hope in his voice.
I closed my eyes briefly, sighed, and gave him a stiff smile. “Yes. Tomorrow.”
He was smirking when I ended the call. I took a second to memorize some of his features. The new ones. The few lines in the corners of his eyes that accompanied the dimples in his cheeks. His thicker brows. The curve of his mouth when he smiled. And he was gone.
