Page 49 of Take Me, Sir

Dean

I'd knownCross before he'd met and married Hanna, but only as a business sort of friend. Someone to look up when I was in town. It wasn’t until I moved here that our friendship had solidified, and he'd gotten married a couple months before that. He'd introduced me to Juliette and Dalton then as well, and they'd just gotten engaged. None of them had ever made me feel out of place for being single, and I'd never thought much of it, but I couldn't help thinking that I liked this better, being part of a third couple.

A couple.

I smiled to myself as I strolled down the sidewalk. Kyndall and I hadn't discussed labels, but we were doing couple things. Sex was part of it, obviously, but more so staying over. Actually sleeping together. Having breakfast. Going out on dates. Spending time with family and friends.

I was still adjusting to the change, but it all felt more natural than I'd expected. After we had sex last night, Kyndall had fallen asleep – well, passed out was probably a better description – so I'd cleaned us both up and moved her under the covers. I could've left, and a part of me had thought about it. Then I remembered how much I enjoyed relaxing with her in my arms, so I climbed into bed with her. If she would've woken up and asked me to leave, I would've. But she hadn't. When I'd woken up this morning, she'd still been fast asleep.

It was while we were eating breakfast that I realized I could do this. I could sleep next to this woman, wake up with her, eat a meal with her. I could discuss plans for the day and know that I was coming home to her at night. Not only could I do it, but I wanted to do it.

It was happening fast, I knew, and some people might've thought it was too fast, but that sort of thing was in my blood. Sort of. My parents had met and married within a seven month period of time, and they'd always been faithful to each other. They still enjoyed being together, and their marriage had always been a solid rock. So I knew marriages with short courtships could last.

But I also knew what my parents would say if I told them I was serious about a woman without having a list of logical reasons why a relationship with her would be the best thing for both of us. And if I told them that I hadn't even had a conversation with her about the important things that should go into planning a long-term commitment, they'd both tell me that I needed to think things through more. Not because they thought I was going too fast, but because it wasn't my brain that was leading the way.

In their opinion, following one's heart was as foolish as making decisions based on sex alone. While I agreed with the latter, I'd never been entirely sure about the former, and being with Kyndall was making me consider things in ways I'd never done before.

I wasn't going to go completely off the deep end though. There was a middle ground between too logical and no common sense, and that's where I intended to be. That meant finding out how Kyndall felt about us being an exclusive couple before anything else.

Something out of the corner of my eye caught my attention and I stopped. It was getting late, and most of the shops would be closing within the next hour, but I hadn't come down here to buy. This was one of my favorite places in LA to come walk. Lots of little shops owned by families or individuals, each one unique rather than the commercialized sort of thing one found elsewhere.

This particular shop was a jewelry store. I'd passed it dozens of times over the last few months, but this was the first time I'd paid attention to the sign in the window.

One-of-a-kind, handcrafted pieces.

I pushed open the door and stepped into the cool air-conditioning. As the door closed behind me, ringing the bell a second time, all of the outside noise fell away. This area of the city wasn't as clogged with traffic as other parts, but it was still a city. In here, however, classical music played softly in the background.

Chopin.

I could still remember my piano teacher standing over me, his index finger poking hard between my shoulder-blades to get me to sit up straight. The metronome ticking away in front of me. And, of course, the rivalry between Mr. Woodley's piano and Mrs. Isler, who taught me violin on alternating days. I was good enough at both to be dragged out in front of guests but not enough to pursue it as a career or even for a scholarship. It'd been a while since I'd played, and I wondered how much I remembered.

“Can I help you?”

A young woman appeared from the back and gave me a charming smile. She was tall and thin, with dark hair and eyes, and the sort of features that could've made her a model.

“I hope so,” I said as I walked over to the counter. “I'm looking for something special, but I'm not certain of what that may be.”

“Well, sir, we have a fine selection of traditional jewelry, as well as one-of-a-kind pieces ready to go. We also offer custom-made jewelry should you wish to design your own.”

The words came easily, as if she'd said them a million times before. I doubted all of her customers received such appreciative looks, however.

“Nothing traditional,” I said. I gave her a polite smile but refrained from putting any extra warmth into it. I didn't want her to get the wrong idea.

“Do you know the sort of jewelry you'd like?” she asked, moving down a case. “Necklace? Bracelet? Ring?”

“Not a ring.” My neck grew warm as I practically blurted out the words. It was one thing to think that something long-term was possible, but it was something else entirely to be ring shopping.

“Our necklaces and bracelets are here.” She stopped behind a case and gestured for me to look. “If I may ask, what's your relationship with the lady in question? Sister? Mother? Girlfriend?”

I knew I didn't imagine the pause before the last one. Better to nip this in the bud than to let things get away from me. “Girlfriend.”

Disappointment flashed across her face, but it was gone in only a matter of seconds, replaced by a cordial, professional mask. “Do you have an idea in mind, or would you like some assistance choosing?”

I was impressed. A lot of women would've been abrupt or petty after a rejection, no matter how polite, but she took it all in stride. Then again, working at a jewelry store, I supposed she was accustomed to waiting on unavailable men.

I was unavailable.

The thought didn't bother me as much as I once would've thought.

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