“Us…and Joy. Joy definitely saw your dick. It was a whole thing.”
He laughs easily, his shoulders shaking with it, and then wraps an arm around me, and I feel…
I’m happy, but it’s a happiness edged in teeth, because it’s a happiness that can’t stay.
We pick up a pizza and a tin of sardines for Professor X, and we go back to the house and change into comfy clothes and watchMatchmaking Small Town Americawhile we compete to come up with the best slogan for the Love Fixers.
Love got you down? Call the Love Fixers, and turn that frown upside down.
Want to see him cry? So do we.
We’re barely paying attention to what’s on the TV, but one of the guys on the show who was introduced as a New Yorker doesn’t seem to know anything about the subway system—or to understand that the Statue of Liberty is on an island. Jake snorts and says, “He’s not from New York City so much as he showed up on a bus six weeks ago for an audition and never left.”
“You’refrom New York,” I say in wonder, because I can tell. It’s there in the way he’s saying it. In the knowing roll of his eyes.
It’s kind of magical to think he was there the whole time I was—that we were living our lives in parallel. Maybe going to the same bagel shops or bodegas.
Part of me feels like I would have noticed him, as if it would be impossible not to, but there are millions of people who live in New York, and his would have just been another attractive face in the crowd.
Jake studies me for a second before nodding and running a hand down my calf, settling it on my ankle. “Sure, but I’m telling you that. I’m not telling Nicole and Damien.”
Which means I’m not supposed to tell them either.
“They’ll find out,” I warn. Then, thinking about what Nicole said earlier, I add, “They might already be finding out. It would be better to just tell them.”
He thinks this through before saying, “Probably. But if I did the smart thing all the time, I definitely wouldn’t have metyou. So maybe I should keep being stupid and hope for the best.”
Maybe this says something about the company I keep, but it’s one of the best compliments I’ve ever gotten from a man.
“What do you miss most about the city?” I ask as New York Man mouths off on the TV.
His mouth lifts up. “I’d kill someone for a bagel, maybe. But right now? Nothing. I’m exactly where I want to be, when I want to be.” He kisses my hair. “With the person I want to be with.”
“That’s a good thing,” I say, trying not to show him how much his answer means to me. “Because you still can’t leave.”
Just past dusk, Claire and Declan stop by to ask about the cookie basket, and Jake tells them how it all went down in a way that has even Declan in hysterics. Storytelling is one of his talents, but a voice in my head whispers that it’s convenient to be a good storyteller if you’re also a liar. The two go hand in hand. But I shake the voice off like it’s a wasp I’d rather not be stung by and suggest we all have a drink around the firepit.
Declan lights a fire, and we drink and laugh, our chairs turned to face the mountains in the distance—soft, rolling lines still visible as darker pieces of night. The weather’s a little crisp again but not cold—the perfect weather for sitting outside and enjoying the mountain air—and as Jake gives me a look, I feel a different kind of want.
It could be like this. My whole life could be like this if he stayed.
But he’s not going to, and I should be smarter than to want what’s never going to be mine. I need to dig my feet into that bedrock of truth and live there.
“Can I check the closet in my old room?” Claire asks out of nowhere. “I think I left my comfiest shoes behind.”
I admire the way she says this with a straight face, when both she and I know she’s wearing her comfiest shoes—the one she always praises for at least five minutes whenever she has them on. Honestly, I would have wanted to get the goods from her too.
As soon as we get through the back door leading into the kitchen, she pushes it shut and turns to me, her eyes shining. “Something happened between you two, didn’t it? I can tell. You decided to go for it.”
I think about what Jake said about wanting the garage to be just for us.
I do too, but that doesn’t mean I can’t confirm something happened. Claire’s my oldest friend, my person.
So I grin at her. “Maybe, but if you tell Nicole, you’re dead to me. She has this bet going with Damien about…” I taper off because Claire has a guilty look on her face. “No.”
She covers her mouth with her hand, then speaks through her splayed fingers. “I’m sorry. I didn’t…you know Nicole. It’s really hard to say no to her, and we were both rooting for you to have some fun. Damien’s more protective. He insisted we come out here every night to check on you, not that I wasn’t one hundred percent planning on doing that anyway, and…” She sighs and lowers her hand, worrying at the pocket of her pants.
Laughter gushes out of me, and I push her arm. “Who are you, and what have you done to my best friend?”