Page 35 of Lucky in Love
We stop next to his car, and I turn to study Knight. He stands patiently, waiting. Thoughts are buzzing through my brain a million miles an hour. There’s so much I’m unsure of. I’ve never found myself in a situation where I’m seriously contemplating long-term. As much as it makes me sound like a douche, there’s always a willing body to warm your bed. They’re easy to find – dime-a-dozen as the cliché goes.
But for the first time in my life, I want more, and it makes me nervous. This is completely new territory for me. I know for sure I’m going to fuck something up sooner or later. This talk has reminded me that Knight has, pretty recently in fact, been in the same situation.
“Can I ask you a question?” The words pop out of my mouth of their own volition.
“Sure. Shoot.”
“How did you know Indie was the one?”
His eyebrows shoot up. Just as he’s about to answer, we hear Gator shout his goodbye. With a quick wave, Knight turns his attention back to me. “You think she could be the one?”
Blowing out a harsh breath, I scuff a foot across the pebbled surface of the parking lot. “That’s just the thing. I don’t know what these feelings are. I just know I’ve never felt this way about any of the other women I’ve dated over the years.”
“Let me break it down for you. If she’s on your mind all the time. You wonder what she’s doing, who she’s with, how her day’s going. Is she thinking about you? If you think of any given situation and there’s no one else you can picture experiencing it with, chances are strong she’s your one.”
I go to speak and find the words won’t come out. Like a strike of lightning, I realize that he’s pretty much described what I’m feeling – just done a better job of verbalizing it. “But isn’t it too soon to feel that way? Doesn’t it take time to develop genuine feelings for someone?”
Knight snorts out a laugh. “Brother, this shit doesn’t work on a timeline. As cheesy as this is going to sound, especially coming from me, the heart works to its own timeline. It wants what it wants, and fuck the rest. Doesn’t matter how long it’s been. If everything about being with this woman feels right, chances are strong it is. Embrace it. Go with the flow.”
The man makes sense. The problem is me. I’m terrified of putting myself out there and having my heart trampled if she isn’t the one. Oh, I know she won’t do it purposefully – Agatha’s not wired that way – but I’ll get it broken if I go all in and things don’t work out.
“I can see that mind of yours racing. I can’t tell you what to do. I can only advise you based on my experience. My advice, for what it’s worth, is don’t fight it. Take the chance. Yes, there’s the potential for shit to go south. But it might very well be the best decision you’ll ever make in your life.”
Suddenly, an overwhelming urge to get back to Agatha swamps me, and I decide not to resist. Giving in to the feeling, I stick out my hand to Knight. When he places his own in mine, I clasp it for a long moment, praying he can see the genuine gratitude I feel for him taking the time to talk to me.
“Thanks, brother. I appreciate you taking the time, taking my feelings seriously, and not ragging on me about this.”
Using our joined hands, Knight pulls me into a man hug. “Anytime. You know where to find me if you need someone to talk to. Now go on and get. Go shower and go see your girl.”
A huge grin splitting my face, I do as I’m told. Hopping in the Mustang, I drop the top, crank the tunes, and plant it. Impatient to see Agatha again, I race for home so I can do the necessary and I can be with her again.
16
AGATHA
The conference room is packed. As far as the eye can see is just people with their little wheely book bags, arms overloaded with books as they stand patiently – some not so patiently – to meet their favorite authors, and get those precious books signed.
My own line is overwhelming as I see how it snakes around past the table and along the wall beside it. There’s still another three hours to go, and I’m exhausted. Between the lack of sleep and the sheer volume of people I’ve interacted with today already, I’m in desperate need of a tall, ice-cold glass of something – I don’t care what, just as long as it contains copious amounts of alcohol, a long, hot soak, and a nap.
Lost in my own thoughts, I startle as Toni taps me on the arm to get my attention. Thank God for her. I’d be a wreck without her. I don’t “people” well when I’m under stress, and there’s no doubt about it, today’s plenty stressful.
She leans over to whisper in my ear. “There’s the lady that I told you about at lunch.” She gestures with only her eyes to a woman making her way toward the table. “She’s the one who’s been asking around about your writing retreat next week.”
I look over to where Toni’s trying to surreptitiously indicate. I spot a beautiful woman striding in my direction. When I say beautiful, I mean people-turning-their-heads-to-stare gorgeous. Something seems both familiar and unsettling about her. There’s something in her gaze I can’t quite pinpoint that makes me uneasy.
Bypassing the long line of people waiting to see me, she stops right in front of my table. The man standing there with a stack of books clutched in his arms stares open-mouthed at the woman. The vision, dressed from head to toe in bold red, smiles over at him and in a husky voice rich with an accent I can’t quite place, asks, “You don’t mind, do you? I won’t be but a moment.”
Struck dumb, he gestures for her to go ahead while shaking his head. She gifts him another smile, but as she turns to me, I notice it doesn’t reach her eyes. In fact, the dark orbs are cold and flat, calling to mind sharks and snakes.
“Ms. Traeger, it’s such an honor to meet you. I’ve been hearing about a writing retreat you’re hosting next week. I’d like so much to join, and I’m hoping I’m not too late. Since I’m lucky enough to be in town at the same time as the signing, I thought I’d come speak to you in person.”
Her intense gaze is focused solely on me, and it’s making me highly uncomfortable. I couldn’t tell you why, but something about this woman – despite being incredibly well dressed and nothing but pleasant – feels off. Weird as it sounds, I don’t get a writer vibe off her. Totally a prejudiced opinion, yet I can’t shake the feeling she’s not being sincere.
“Thank you. It’s lovely to meet you too.” I jump in fright as a pair of hands settle on my shoulders. Yet I’m unable to tear my gaze from hers, despite feeling movement behind me. Then I feel a gentle touch of lips to my forehead and his smell hits me. The one that is uniquely, distinctly Jessen. Something settles inside me, and I don’t feel quite so uneasy.
“That is a rather fortuitous coincidence then. Sadly, all the spots have been filled.” We usually don’t release all the booking spots at once, reserving one or two for situations just like this one where we have last minute enquiries.
Her face shifts into disappointed lines. Once again, I get the impression that it’s faked. “Oh no. This news is most disappointing. I’ve been so hopeful that you would, perhaps, have had at least one spot open for me.”
