Somebody to Love

by Ann Christopher

  “Absolutely,” Raymond said brightly, shooting a discreet raised brow look at Sean, who returned it with interest. “We can sit right over here—Bobsy! Bad dog!”

  Bobsy, true to form, had taken advantage of their absorption with Griff to sneak off to the empty but uncleared table nearby, where he’d put his paws up and helped himself to some remaining tidbit on a plate.

  Something that looked chocolatey.

  “Did you eat a brownie?” Raymond cried as he reeled the dog back in. “Bad dog! Bad dog!”

  Bobsy yapped.

  “Don’t you backtalk me, you bad boy!”

  Sean watched them all go to another table, stifling a chuckle. He spared a passing thought for poor Griff, who was now divorcing the trophy wife for whom he’d left Miranda. The brother was in a bad way, no question. Sean was pretty sure that the second marriage hadn’t even lasted as long as the average pair of windshield wipers. Evidently Griff had decided to cut his losses before he got in any deeper, but still. A second divorce. That had to hurt.

  With that, Sean reverted to feeling sorry for his own fool self.

  The situation with Amber had him tied up in knots. Bottom line.

  He checked his watch and sipped his coffee in moody silence, oblivious to the other customers’ chatter all around him.

  The thing was, they were several months in and he had no idea where he stood with Amber.

  Well, he knew where he stood.

  He stood in a place of near eternal sunshine, where her smile, laughter and support served as the fuel that got him out of bed in the morning and her silken skin, fragrant body and heated whispers served as his goalpost and his reward for another day’s hard work.

  Maybe he should have been better prepared for this to happen to him, having seen his friends fall one by one and having given them all shit for it, but he found it a stunning curveball out of left field that he could feel this way about any woman.

  How had this happened to a seasoned romantic cynic like him?

  No idea.

  But he lived for those moments when their gazes caught across the room and those big baby browns of hers sparkled at him. The sound of her voice when he answered his phone thrilled him beyond all reason. Five months in and he wouldn’t dream of making a major decision without her. He valued her commonsense opinions far too much.

  And the way he felt when he was inside her...

  Well, there was no describing that. No getting used to it. No living without it.

  The bottom line? The words were stuck in his throat all the time now, ready to surge forth like water from a fireman’s hose. He was a man teetering on the edge of confessing that he was crazy in love with her. With all the swelling joy that entailed.

  And, more to the point, all the bottomless misery.

  Why?

  Because she’d stuck him firmly within the four walls of her relationship rules, and God help him if he stepped a toe out of line and wanted a little something more.

  They spent their nights together, but only the three nights of the week that Ella spent with Edward. He saw Ella, but only in passing during family events when she was with Edward, and only under Edward’s stingy and watchful eye. As for his panda Christmas gift? It still sat on Amber’s shelf, gathering dust.

  That panda had become the focal point of all his hurts and desires; the mere sight of it up there gathering dust when it should have been in Ella’s arms this whole time made his heart ache.

  If he made the slightest noise about wanting to spend more time with Amber or the slightest whimper about the two of them spending time with Ella so that she could get to know him better, Amber slapped him with a troubled silence that could last anywhere from five minutes to two days. Even though she lit up like the Manhattan skyline at night every time he walked in the room and even though she blew apart in his arms every chance she got, the idea of the two of them spending time together with Ella still made her face turn pale.

  And he was sick about it and also sick of it—

  “Sean.” Amber appeared out of nowhere with her own cup of coffee, cutting across his interior monologue with the vague note of alarm in her voice. “Hi. What are you doing here?”

  See that? he thought sourly, blinking himself out of his thoughts and watching the color leach away from her normally rosy cheeks. They never got anywhere when this topic came up. The conversation never progressed.

  Which was exactly what he was doing there. He was forcing the issue and trying to determine, as best he could, whether it was safe to continue this glorious falling-in-love process or whether this woman was about to rip his heart out and leave him for dead.

  A needy and childish move? Probably.

  Would he regret it later? Quite possibly.

  Did he see any other options at this point? Not a one.

  “Hey, Sweetness.” He stood just enough to kiss her, savoring her soft coo of pleasure even as he noted the new wariness in her eyes. “How’s your morning going so far? Did you get everything steamed?”

  As always, she beamed with pride at the mention of her new baby, also courtesy of Isaiah and one of his angel grants. When the first of the year arrived, she’d wasted no time embracing Sean’s upscale resale shop idea, researching the local market, finding prime space several doors down here on DeGroot Avenue and making the place her own. She’d decorated, made several buying trips to New York, LA and Miami, making good use of her contacts in the fashion industry to great advantage when it came to buying slightly-used designer clothes for cheap, and now stood poised to have her own grand opening a couple of weeks from now. As soon as she got all her clothing items steamed and displayed to her exacting standards. He couldn’t be prouder of her. Couldn’t wait to watch her turn her boutique into a fantastic success.

  “Not yet. And little Miss Ella will derail all forward progress as soon as she arrives,” she said, adjusting her bag on her shoulder, checking her watch and glancing toward the window overlooking the sidewalk.

  “True,” he said, making a production out of idly sipping his coffee and grateful for the background noise so she couldn’t hear the violent thump of his heart. “Why don’t you have a seat for a minute? I haven’t seen any sign of Edward and Ella yet.”

  They stared at each other for a tense beat or two, both well aware of what he was doing and both evidently willing to play the other’s game. At least for now.

  “I’m not so sure that’s a good idea,” she said at last, shifting uncomfortably.

  “Of course you’re not,” he said, determined to be a loving and supportive boyfriend who could remain patient for as long as she needed but unable to keep all the bitterness out of his voice.

  “Sean…”

  “It’s fine. Forget I said anything.” He fiddled with his napkin, wanting to play it cool and only seethe inwardly, where he did all his best seething these days. But then he remembered that all his happily committed buddies marched around spouting shit about the importance of communication. And here Sean was, determined to build a great relationship with Amber while also quashing the main thing he needed to communicate. Not a very good plan. So he decided to grow a pair, open his mouth and tell her what he needed. “Actually, it’s not fine. Why can’t we sit here together and wait for Edward to drop off Ella? I can leave after two minutes if you want me to. What would be wrong with that? She’s a year and a half old. It’s not like she’s going to be damaged for life.”

  “We’ve talked about this,” she said with the exaggerated patience of a beleaguered kindergarten teacher trying to explain proper shoe tying procedures for the hundredth time. “It’s because I don’t want Ella to—”

  “—get the wrong idea about you and me or get hurt, yeah, I know,” he said, leaning into this discussion and his hurt feelings, both of which had been a long time in the making. He knew that his stress and exhaustion levels were only intensifying the situation, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. “And I know I’m auditioning here—”

&nb
sp; “Auditioning?”

  “For a place in your life. For a place in Ella’s life. You want me to prove I’m worthy. I get that. Any woman would. But how long is this going to take?”

  “What’s gotten into you?” she said, aghast, still looming over him.

  “What’s gotten into me is that I’m scared because I don’t know where this relationship is going. How’s that for honesty? And will you please sit down so we can talk for two seconds?”

  He stared up at her, knowing he’d just smeared his heart all over his face, but helpless to do otherwise. And she, to his everlasting gratitude, took her bag and jacket off, slung them across one of the empty chairs and sat.

  Something in his chest eased up, allowing him to take a breath.

  “Look. I know they’ll be here any second. We don’t have to hash this all out right now. But we need to talk about it. I need to talk about it.”

  “You’re really angry with me,” she said, looking startled and hurt. “You’ve never been this angry before.”

  “I’m frustrated. Things between us are so great. We talk. We laugh.”

  She nodded.

  “We can’t keep her hands off each other.”

  A glorious flush refilled her cheeks with color, going a long way toward soothing his feelings.

  “I think we trust each other—”

  “We do trust each other, Sean.”

  He rested his elbows on the table and reached for her hands, which she eagerly gave.

  “Are you okay with only seeing me part of the week? Is that the deal?”

  “No,” she said.

  He managed another relieved breath.

  “Then how can we talk about next steps if you don’t even want Ella in the same room with me? Do you think I would hurt her? Physically?”

  “What? No. Of course not.”

  “What is it then? Because Edward has Reeve around Ella all the time. So he’s not worried about Ella being exposed to new people when it comes to his relationship. You know that. Meanwhile, that stuffed panda is still on your shelf. You won’t even let me give Ella her Christmas present.”

  “I can’t control Edward,” she said sharply. “As you know. I can only control myself. And I’m trying to be the best mother possible.”

  “Fair enough. But did you ever notice that everyone who meets your kid falls in love with her?” Rising frustration made his voice rougher than he would’ve liked as he reached for his phone, yanked off its cover and displayed its back, which was covered with stickers. “Look at this. She gives me a freaking panda sticker every time I see her over at the Harpers’. She smiles at me with those big brown eyes that are just like yours and she gives me a sticker. And I stick them on my phone because I can’t stand to throw them away.”

  “Oh, my God,” she said faintly.

  “You may not realize this, but I met her way before I ever met you, and she’s already precious to me.”

  “Sean—”

  “Maybe I want to spend more time with her instead of just hoping she might turn up to see her grandparents when I’m around. Maybe I could have dinner with her and watch her eat chicken nuggets. Maybe I could watch The Little Mermaid before bed sometimes. Maybe I could tuck her in bed with you. Maybe I have something to offer both of you. Did you ever think of that?”

  She seemed frozen, staring at him with eyes the size of saucers.

  “Sean. Where is all this coming from?”

  As if he knew. As if he’d be getting into all this in the middle of a busy weekday morning at Java Nectar if he had the slightest grip on his sanity at the moment.

  “I can’t keep hiding my feelings,” he said with rising desperation. “I’m here. I’m doing my part. There are things I want to tell you. I’m ready. Why are you blocking me?”

  She opened her mouth. Took forever to speak.

  “I don’t know,” she said helplessly. “But I can’t let you in.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. It’s like there’s an invisible wall that keeps me back.”

  He searched her face for better answers than that, finally deciding that she looked exactly as strung out about the topic as he currently felt. He slumped back in his chair. Roughly rubbed his face with the heels of his hands.

  “I really didn’t mean to get into all this right now,” he said as sudden emotional exhaustion made it almost impossible for him to get the words out as he dropped his hands again. His fear, meanwhile, rose up to catch him in a chokehold. “But the only thing I can think of is that you’re still hung up on Edward.”

  “That’s not it,” she said, way too quickly. Way too sharply.

  He felt his lip curl. Tasted bitterness on the back of his tongue.

  “I’ve been hung up on a woman who was hung up on another man before. You know that.” Christ. Those excruciating memories of that painful time with Mike and Dara, which never went very far, seemed to be right there beneath the surface of his thoughts. Probably because he’d be seeing them later. “That shit’s hard to get over. And I didn’t care about Dara anything like the way I feel about you. I’m not doing that again. So I’m asking you.” He needed a long pause before he was able to get the abhorrent words out. “Please tell me if you’re still hung up on Edward.”

  “No,” she said without missing a beat.

  He wanted to be reassured and satisfied. Told himself to just drop it and not push her too far. Begged himself to let it go and continue enjoying this time with her for as long as it lasted.

  But he couldn’t. This was way too important. For both of them. And if they didn’t have honesty, then they didn’t have jack shit. No matter how much they enjoyed each other.

  So he stared her in the face. Gave it to her straight:

  “I don’t believe you.”

  She gasped, looking stricken. “You think I’m lying to you?”

  “No.” Another long hesitation while he collected the words and forced the words out and laid them on the table between them. “I think you’re lying to yourself.”

  Now she slumped against the back of her chair, dumbstruck.

  They stared at each other in complete silence, a million miles apart, trapped inside their painful standoff. Which was, he supposed, the perfect metaphor for their relationship—they stayed where they were and never progressed.

  The stalemate might have continued forever except that their powder keg met a lit match.

  Edward, pushing a sleeping Ella bundled up in her stroller and accompanied by a nervous looking Reeve, appeared at their table, startled them and kicked their tension level up to eleven.

  Amber hastily straightened and cleared her throat, looking embarrassed; Sean stifled a curse.

  Edward eyed them warily, probably wondering what sort of hornet’s nest he’d stumbled upon.

  “Hey, you two,” he said. “Sorry to interrupt.”

  “It’s okay.” Amber put a real effort into her nonchalant act and shot a quick glance at Reeve. “Hey.”

  Poor Reeve brightened as though she’d discovered a handful of Harry Winston jewels inside her birthday piñata. “Hey, Amber. How are you?”

  But Amber, who evidently couldn’t scrape together more than a minimal amount of social politeness toward Reeve, immediately turned back to Edward and didn’t seem to notice Reeve’s crestfallen expression.

  “So how long has Ella been asleep?” Amber asked.

  “About ten minutes. Listen. Can I talk to you for a minute?” Edward shot an apologetic look at Sean. “Alone?”

  Because of course, Sean thought sourly.

  That was just the type of day he was having.

  Amber looked vaguely alarmed, possibly because she knew that this request was exactly the kind of fuel that Sean’s fire didn’t need at this critical juncture.

  “It’s a bad time, Edward,” she said crisply. “And anything you need to say to me, you can say in front of Sean.”

  Sean silently awarded her points for trying, but did not feel bett
er.

  Reeve, meanwhile, shifted uncomfortably and smoothed her hair behind her ear—

  “Oh, my God!” Without warning, Amber grabbed Reeve’s hand, examined it in minute detail, then turned it loose and focused her accusatory stare on Edward. “You’re engaged.”

  What the —?

  Sean glanced wildly around, wondering what he’d missed, and discovered that Reeve sported a sparkly yellow ring that looked as though it had been yanked from one of Jennifer Lopez’s fingers.

  “Yeah.” Edward nodded, the joyous light in his eyes tempered by his clear desire not to make the situation any worse for Amber. “We’re engaged.”

  Amber did her best. No doubt well aware of her audience, she squared her shoulders, took a deep breath and managed a smile that was only fifty percent wooden.

  “Congratulations. I wish you the very best.” She turned to Reeve. “I mean it.”

  “Thanks, Amber,” said Reeve, who glowed with a bride’s happiness and unmistakable gratitude at this grace from Amber. “I really appreciate that.”

  Beneath all his misery, Sean felt a fleeting moment of pride. Amber was a class act. No question. Too bad she couldn’t hide her upset any better than she’d be able to hide it if Edward took out a pistol and shot her through the heart.

  “Congrats, you two.” Sean stood, divvying up a handshake and hug for Edward and a kiss for Reeve.

  Amber also stood. Smoothed her pants and gestured vaguely toward the hallway. “I’m just going to, ah, run to the ladies room before I head out.”

  She hurried off. And while she may have successfully hidden the flash of her tears from Edward and Reeve, she couldn’t hide them from Sean.

  At the sight of them, Sean suddenly hit his limit.

  He was sick of this bullshit. Sick of watching Edward and Reeve parade around town, happily living their lives and doing whatever the fuck they wanted with Ella while Amber lived in suspended animation and he paid the price. Sick of pretending he was okay with his kinda-sorta relationship with Amber when he knew in his heart that he planned to marry her one day if given half the chance. Most of all, he was sick of living in some other guy’s inescapable shadow.