Page 50 of Always Been You

So, maybe it wouldn't be a bad thing if she adopted Vegas's motto and decided what happened in Chicago, stays in Chicago. Then at least she'd be in control. She'd be clear on the rules. She wouldn't be wondering if he was going to call or stop by. She could take back the reins of her emotional life.

At this point, she wasn't sure what her emotions were doing. Especially after the bombs that Ethan had dropped on her about his childhood and being her first kiss. She wasn't sure why those changed things for her, but they did. They'd connected in a way she'd never experienced with anyone, and that was before they got naked.

Her mind was so busy trying to categorize and compartmentalize what had transpired between them that she wasn't paying attention to her surroundings. The next thing she knew she was getting rapped on her knuckles by Mrs. Chen.

"You dropped your stitch. Do it again."

Mrs. Chen loved playing the role of taskmaster, but out of all three of the women that ran the club, Jess was most intimidated by Mrs. Dobrinski.

Mrs. Chen lifted her cane and pointed it at Jess's chest. "Nice shirt, Miss Myers."

"Thanks." Jess glanced down at her shirt. It read "Knitting Takes Balls" and it featured two balls of yarn over her tatas.

When she'd received the invitation to join The Needlepoint Mafia, she'd agreed, even though she'd never picked up a pair of needles in her life for three reasons. The first was because her best friend's life had just imploded when her brother died, and she'd been roped into joining the club that even with two twenty-eight-year-old women it only brought the members’ average age down to the mid sixty range.

And second, was because if she wanted to have a thriving beauty business in Whisper Lake, then she needed the support of the knitting club demographic.

And third, was because she got to wear these punny shirts. It brought her joy on several levels. Jess had always been a fan of a good pun. She came by it honestly. Her mom was the pun queen. And just beneath that surface of enjoyment was the faces on the women when she did wear them.

Some of them acted as if they didn't like the more shocking ones, but Jess called BS. They loved the drama of a rebel in their midst.

After examining their projects, Mrs. Chen moved on to harass, er um, help other members.

When she got far enough out of ear range, Ali leaned in closer to Jess. "Okay, so, you guys hooked up, does this mean that you guys are together now?"

"No idea," Jess answered honestly.

"Do you want to be with him?"

"No." It was the first answer that popped into her head, but that was quickly followed by, "Yes." She sighed. "I don't know...it's complicated."

"Well," Ali sighed. "If there's one person that can un-complicate it, it's you."

She was glad her friend had faith in her. That made one of them.

17

Ethan's shoulders slumped in exhaustion. He'd been with the fugitive task squad tracking down a murderer for the past thirty-six hours. During that time, there'd been a standoff, and he'd been shot. He'd spent an hour being examined by a medic that he hadn't needed since his vest took the brunt of the shot, another three hours on paperwork, and another two in the debriefing. He hadn't slept. Hadn't eaten. He was sore, and it hurt to breathe.

But as he stood outside the rehearsal space waiting for Jess, he could honestly say that there was nowhere he'd rather be. Well, maybe he'd rather be in bed with Jess, but just knowing that he was about to see her, that he was about to hear her voice, had him floating on cloud nine.

It was a place he was getting used to being, as he'd been there since their weekend getaway. Nothing had ever been as perfect as their weekend in Chicago. He still hadn't fully processed everything that had happened between him and Jess or had any idea what it meant, but he did know it was a step in the right direction.

He'd wanted so badly to declare his undying love for her, but he'd somehow managed to keep it to himself. Even in the texts they'd exchanged, he'd wanted to end them all with, I love you. He knew better than most that when someone you love walks out the door, it could be the last time you see them. But he was still worried that if he rushed her, rushed them, she might bail.

So as much as he'd love to suggest that they go back to his place, or hers, after this lesson, he was going to refrain. He'd waited a lifetime already. He could wait a few more weeks, or months if he had to, to be with her. Really be with her.

His phone buzzed, and he was pretty sure he knew who it was before he even looked at the screen. Sure enough, it was his grandma.

"Hey, Na-"

"Young man, you tell me what's going on right now." She used a tone he hadn't heard since she'd found empty beer bottles behind their house when he was a teenager.

He was thirty-two years old, but at that moment he felt like a guilty teenager again.

"Well, I'm on the phone, talking to-"

She cut him off. "Don't back talk. I'm serious."

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