by R. C. Martin
I followed behind my two favorite artsy men, trying to ignore the knots of anxiety that were making a tangled mess in my belly. The night felt good against my skin, and I breathed in a lungful of air. According to Judah’s previous messages, he would be at my apartment in about an hour. I planned on heading straight home in order to get ready, except I couldn’t help but wonder if it would all be for not.
Andrew bid me good luck with a parting wave, and Geoffrey kissed my temple—all the while insisting I call him when I got home from my date. There was so much assurance in his tone that I was definitely going on a date that night, I grabbed hold of it and carried it with me all the way to my car.
A piece of me believed it was entirely possible I was worrying for nothing and Geoffrey was absolutely right. In a life ruled by technology, it was easy to forget how things could come up. I tricked myself into thinking there was a distinct reason why Judah had not messaged me; and just because he hadn’t responded in what then felt like a desperate attempt to flirt with him, he hadn’t canceled our evening.
He waited seven days for me. He told me he was taking me out. He wouldn’t stand me up. I was sure he wouldn’t ghost me. Not Judah.
Except, at eight-thirty, I was pacing around my apartment. By nine, I had entered and exited every room in my flat at least a dozen times—my phone clutched in my hand. A quarter after the hour, I took off my heels and curled up in the corner of my sofa. My stomach turned over itself repeatedly as I contemplated calling him. I had no clue what the appropriate action was in that moment, and the last thing I wanted was to look desperate or foolish if he’d changed his mind about me.
At nine-thirty, I hit dial.
“That fucking bastard,” Geoffrey growled. “He stood you up?”
Hearing someone else say it made it more real, and my heart ached. I looked up toward the ceiling, in hopes that my sudden onrush of tears wouldn’t spill over, but it was no use. I drew in a shuddered breath, unable to speak around the knot which clogged my throat. I felt dejected in a way I hadn’t expected, and I wasn’t sure if I had any words to say.
“Give me an hour, Freckles. I’m on my way.”
“Okay,” I managed on a whisper.
As soon as our call was disconnected, I powered off my phone entirely. I didn’t want to wait. I didn’t want to wonder. I didn’t want to hope. I needed to eliminate even the slightest possibility that I’d hear from anyone about anything, or I knew I’d only feel worse.
After wiping away my tears, I returned to my room in order to change my clothes. I abandoned my dress on the floor and slipped into a pair of cotton shorts, a tank top, and my favorite, oversized CSU hoodie. I pulled my hair up, piling it in a messy bun on top of my head, and then washed my face. When I felt as unprepared for a date as possible, I grabbed my computer and pulled up a few photos I’d recently been editing. I needed something to distract me while I waited for Geoffrey.
As hard as I tried, I couldn’t get lost in any images. When I heard Geoffrey’s footsteps outside my door, I jerked my gaze away from my computer. After he knocked, I was quick to set aside my laptop. Certain as I was it would be him on the other side of the door, I felt a fresh wave of disappointment wash over me when I saw him standing there. My night wasn’t supposed to have gone the way it did, and I couldn’t for the life of me explain what happened.
“All right—Josh’s chardonnay, Ben & Jerry’s coffee ice cream, Thor and Captain America,” greeted Geoffrey as he held up his re-useable grocery sack. “I didn’t know which Chris you might want to round out this orgy.”
In spite of how I felt, that got a half of a smile out of me. “Hemsworth,” I mumbled.
He nodded and then took a step toward me, opening his arms. “Come ‘ere.”
I shuffled my feet across the short distance between us and propped myself against his chest. His arms held me snugly, and he rested his cheek on top of my head.
“Did you try calling him?”
“No,” I whispered.
“Yeah. I probably wouldn’t either.” He squeezed me tighter. “I’m sorry, Teddy. He’s an asshole.”
I sealed my eyes closed tight, wondering if I believed that. A part of me did. But it wasn’t so cut and dry as it was in the beginning. I knew there was more to that man than what met the eye. Except, I couldn’t argue with Geoffrey, either—not when it was him who held me and not Judah.
“I don’t think I want to talk about it.”
“All right.” He pulled away from me and shut us inside. “What’ll it be, wine or ice cream?”
“Um, ice cream. Then wine.”
“You got it. Pop in the movie,” he instructed, handing me the bag. “I’ll get us some spoons.”
I consumed half a pint of Ben & Jerry’s as I tried to get lost in the movie. Much like I hadn’t been able to completely distract myself with my photographs, the God of Thunder couldn’t capture my full attention, either. Geoffrey seemed to notice, and he stole my ice cream and stowed it in the freezer before he poured me a glass of wine. When he returned to the couch, it wasn’t wine I wanted. I curled myself into his side, and he cuddled with me for the duration of our first movie—then again through our second. It was after one in the morning when he finally left to go home.
Alone again, I contemplated powering on my phone. In the end, I decided I didn’t want to know what might await me—or not—and I left the device on my coffee table as I went to bed. I woke up the next morning finally ready to confront my fate. When I turned it on and found two text messages, neither of which were from Judah, I felt rejected all over again.
I went through the motions of brewing my coffee; but in the end, it tasted bitter and it made my stomach turn. I didn’t like the way I felt. It was more than the hurt of rejection. It was also the bewilderment that accompanied a lack of explanation. Over and over again, I thought of the week gone by. I replayed every exchange between us, and it only increased my confusion.
A week ago, all he wanted to do was kiss me. Three days ago, he was all but demanding I go out with him. What did I do wrong?
I thought about calling Harper. I wanted to talk to my sister. I needed her point of view—but I was afraid she’d drag Ben into it. I played out the whole scenario in my mind. Her intentions would be noble, but I was sure Judah wouldn’t see it that way. If word got back to him, I knew it would somehow make me into a picture of someone weaker than I wanted him to see.
After I wandered around my thoughts for nearly an hour, I decided I needed to get out of my apartment. I needed a distraction—one that forced me out of my head. I barely even thought about it as I got dressed, grabbed my camera, and headed to my car. Even though I had hiked Horsetooth Reservoir a million times since I moved to Fort Collins, I never tired of it. Upon my arrival, I willed myself to enjoy the trail and challenged myself to find something through my lens I hadn’t seen before.
By mid-day, I realized I was starving, hot, and dehydrated. As I arrived at my vehicle, I made up my mind where I would stop for lunch. An hour later—when I was walking back into my apartment—I noticed I left my phone in the kitchen. I stopped abruptly upon seeing it. It was like a switch had been flipped in my head. I imagined countless scenarios in which something happened to me—something awful—and in every situation, my phone was left in my kitchen.
I wondered if something horrible happened to Judah. I didn’t want to believe it. It was easier to label him an asshole who hurt my feelings and move on. But it wasn’t that simple. I had seen a glimpse of him; I had experienced his genteel nature; I had been exposed to the brilliance that lived inside of him, and I knew too much to appraise him as a two-dimensional being. Hungry as I was, I picked at my lunch as I started to conjure a list of viable reasons as to why we hadn’t gone out the night before.
He lost his phone.
He broke his phone.
He was sick.
He was in an accident.
He knew someone who was in an accident.
The list fed my curiosit
y until I felt brave enough to call him. Except, with my phone in hand, my thumb poised over his contact information, I was also afraid of calling and receiving no answer. No answer would leave me in exactly the same place I found myself.
The silence was making me crazy.
I finished my lunch and then decided to shower before I did anything else. When I went to my dresser and saw Judah’s clothes piled neatly on top, crazy no longer felt like a feeling—but a state of mind. It occurred to me that I knew where he lived. If I wanted answers, I wasn’t beholden to the phone that wouldn’t ring, I could show up at his house.
It was crazy. I knew it was. Even in my own mind, I realized I sounded like a stalker, but none of it added up. His behavior didn’t make sense. Something happened, and I wanted to know what. My gut needed to know what. So, I made up my mind. I was going to see him. I just needed to find the courage to fuel my crazy.
Chapter Thirty
Staring at his front door, I thought I might throw up.
After my earlier shower, I stalled. I blew my hair dry. Completely. I put on makeup. I changed my outfit four times, then ended up in the first thing I put on; my dark washed skinny jeans, an oversized black t-shirt, and a pair of Toms. I cleaned my apartment, to calm my nerves—and then I drank two cups of coffee, to make me brave. It was after six o’clock when I finally gathered his clothes, my purse, and my phone and hurried to my car. I knew if I didn’t go right then, I wouldn’t go at all.
I was trembling as I parked my car on the street outside of his house. Whether it was from my nerves, my excessive caffeine intake, or both, I was too wired to know. All I knew was if I didn’t walk up his driveway to the door, I’d never get any answers. Even still, I waited.
I thought, for sure, I might throw up.
Sitting behind the wheel, I was nauseous with doubt. Suddenly, I didn’t know whether or not I was owed answers. I wasn’t convinced my actions were justified in the slightest. I thought maybe I really had lost my mind. To show up at his house, unannounced? It was insane. It was impulsive and reckless. Even returning his clothes felt like a sorry excuse to have driven there.
I expelled a heavy sigh, burying my fingers in my hair as I tried to get a grip. It took only a couple of deep breaths for me to decide on a course of action. I was going to hurry up his driveway, leave his clothes on his doorstep, and then race back to my car. Backwards as it seemed, it would be me who went home with my tail between my legs.
Just as I was getting ready to climb out of my Civic, another vehicle pulled up behind me. Glancing in my rearview mirror, I saw a white Lexus park on the opposite side of Judah’s driveway—directly in front of his mailbox. Immediately, my heart began to race. I didn’t know who was in the car, but I was horrified at the idea of getting caught in mine at that particular moment.
When she stepped out of her seat, my stomach dropped and my mouth fell open. It took everything in me not to turn around in my chair entirely to get a better look at her. She was irritatingly attractive, even from my vantage point. I watched in what I could not quite identify—but knew intrinsically—was something akin to horror as she checked herself out by way of her reflection in the driver’s side window. She tossed her blonde hair out of her face and smoothed her hands down her short, strapless, bandage dress.
I was frozen in my seat as she strutted up the driveway. It was like she’d done it a dozen times. Worse, even, it was like her fashion runway. I could hardly make sense of it all. Her in that dress. Her at Judah’s house.
Her on Judah’s porch.
When he opened his front door, all of my air rushed out of me. I felt deflated at the sight of him. He looked perfectly well. Moreover, he looked like he was getting ready to leave for a date—a date with a woman who was far from the likes of me.
It wasn’t until the blonde turned and glanced my direction that I realized I’d been spotted. As soon as my eyes found Judah’s, I whispered a curse under my breath. The last thing I wanted to do was get out of my car. I had seen the answer I was looking for, and it was humiliating enough. Yet, be that as it was, my gut told me it was fate that ushered me into the very scene I was in.
I put myself out there with Judah. I took a chance, and he took advantage. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, the opportunity in front of me was one I needed to take. I needed to be a strong woman, full of gumption and grit. I needed to speak my peace—or spit my fire—and then let it all go.
Before I could second guess myself, I opened my car door and grabbed his clothes out of my passenger seat. Neither of them moved as I hurried up the drive, and I tried to grab hold of the anxiety I felt and twist it into courage. In the end, it was the look on the blonde’s face when I approached the porch that set a fire within me. She was gorgeous, that I couldn’t deny. Neither could I miss the judgmental way she looked at me, as if I was unworthy of a man like Judah.
“What are you doing here?” asked the man coldly, stealing my attention.
I inadvertently sucked in a gasp, my head jerking in his direction. I opened my mouth to speak, but the sight of him left me speechless. None of the scenarios I played out in my head involved him, in black slacks and a crisp white button-up, on the verge of going on what was obviously a date with another woman. I felt foolish and naïve; and there were no words that were going to change that. Thrusting his belongings at his chest, I said nothing.
He grabbed them as I began to pull away, and his fingers brushed over mine. Just like every time he touched me, the feel of his skin against mine made my whole hand tingle. The sensation brought a blush to my cheeks, and it triggered what I had been trying to ignore all day.
Hurt.
“I thought—I don’t—what happened?” I managed.
“It’s really quite simple, Teddy. I changed my mind.”
His words struck me, as if he’d literally slapped my face. The tears that welled up instantly, causing my vision to blur, couldn’t be stopped. I was so startled and confused by his cold response.
“I don’t—I don’t understand,” I stammered. “Why? What happened? What did I do?”
He tossed his clothes aside, and the items slid across the floor behind him as he replied, “You played me for a fool, and I am no one’s fool.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked, growing exasperated.
“What’s going on here, exactly? Who is she?” piped in the blonde.
I jerked at the sound of her voice. For a minute, I forgot she was there.
When Judah spoke next, he had my full attention again. Furthermore, it was like he hadn’t heard the blonde speak at all. He took a step toward me and said, “Seven days. You told me to go seven days without having sex with anyone. I never pegged you as a tease, Teddy, but I thought the same rules would apply to you.”
I scrunched my face in bewilderment. I tried to make sense of what he was saying, but I simply could not.
“I haven’t had sex with anyone!” I insisted.
“Then who was the blond fuck with his tongue down your throat Thursday night?”
I reared my head back as my mind raced. The previous couple of nights felt like a collection of puzzle pieces he was forcing me to put together under pressure. What he thought he knew, I couldn’t figure out.
“Don’t lie to me. I saw you. At The Tap Room.”
“Excuse me,” said the blonde.
Her words were lost as I gasped, reaching up to cover my face. In an instant, everything was crystal clear. Judah’s silence began immediately after that kiss. Except, he had it wrong. I thought back on that second in time, and his words twisted my memory. The thought of Geoffrey’s tongue in my mouth was actually kind of gross.
Dropping my hands, I said, “His tongue was definitely not in my mouth.”
“Um, Judah?”
“The fuck?” Judah spat as he squinted his eyes at me. Still ignoring the blonde, he went on to inform me, “I don’t care. That’s not the point.”
“Yes. Yes, it is!” I cried, t
hrowing my hands up in frustration. “The blond you’re referring to? He’s my best friend. That was not a date. He’s not into me, and I’m not into him.”
“Right. Tell me, do you let all your friends kiss you like that?” As he spoke the words, he lifted his shoulders in a flippant shrug.
“No,” I practically groaned. “But I do let all my gay friends kiss me like that.”
In an instant, his face fell into a relaxed state, and he took a step away from me. “What?”
“Yeah. Geoffrey? Six-one, blond hair, blue eyes, built like a Viking? He doesn’t have any interest in my vagina. In fact, not that this is any of your business, but he’s getting over a really hard breakup. So, while you were, apparently, watching us—making assumptions—he was drinking and helping me flirt with you.”
I blew out a sigh and shook my head. I could feel the blonde still standing in my periphery, and I realized the argument I was having with Judah didn’t matter. Whatever was building between us, it wasn’t anymore. That much was obvious.
“You know, I came over here to check on you—or—whatever. I wanted to know why you stood me up last night. Now, I guess I know.” I turned to leave, but then thought better of it. I remembered the opportunity I decided to seize, and I no longer felt unjustified. Sweeping my hair behind my ears, I glanced up at him and added, “You’re kind of a coward, you know that? You’re so afraid that someone is going to mistreat you, you won’t even give a girl a chance. You didn’t have to ghost me. You could have just asked, Judah. I would have been honest. I have never given you anything less than the truth.”
I didn’t get two steps away before I felt his hand clasp around my wrist. Before I knew it, I was pressed against his chest. Along with the sharp intake of air that filled my lungs with the act, I caught a whiff of his cologne, and I felt off balance for a second. As if he could sense it, he circled his other arm around my waist and held me against him.
“I’m not a fucking coward,” he declared.
“Hello! What the hell? Judah—”
