Chapter 18
18
[Genie]
J ust what was I thinking? I almost kissed Judd . Judd Sylver.
After stomping away from him, I needed some space, and while his home is plenty large enough to put distance between us, I need even more space. The outdoors was the answer. A walk was the best way to burn off this pent-up energy.
My mind races faster than my feet can carry me.
I almost kissed Judd .
A man I now know had a crush on me when he was ten and didn’t purposely stand me up for his prom.
The same man who put his mother’s ring on my finger and has a unicorn tattoo that matches the lined paper I once wrote him notes on.
I stop dead in my tracks at this point in my walk. Then I make a turn, knowing in the back of my head, I might get lost.
Strangely, being lost feels appropriate because I do not know how to navigate what I’m feeling inside me and what is actually happening between Judd and me, because something is happening.
Something unfamiliar and frightening and thrilling and his body alone is just everything.
I’m flipping from emotion to emotion in a flash. Maybe I am a slut. Is this lust?
I consider what Judd told me last night. The pain in his eyes as he shared what happened to him when he was only eighteen. My heart aches for him, but he’d never want my pity.
And here I’d been worried he’d think I was pitiful. Nearly forty, needing a date to appease my mother for ten days.
And there’s Judd offering to do it for me.
Will you date me for ten days? Check yes or no.
Will you be my new friend? Check yes or no.
The two notes merge together in my head and then I visualize the writing in another manner. In another place.
My memory rattles around until I have the answer.
Judd’s skin.
When Judd held up his hand to high-five me, I’d noticed lettering on the underside of his arm. In bold script lettering was inked: Check yes or no, with a box beside each word and a giant checkmark in the yes-box. More lettering was underneath, but I couldn’t make out the rest of it that quickly.
Judd had my question inked on his skin. And his answer, at least one time.
I didn’t understand any of it. I’d played a dangerous game asking him what he’d wish for because as his body came closer to mine and he leaned in, it was apparent what he wanted.
I wanted it, too. Yet, it felt wrong. Not that Judd feels wrong. He feels right, so very right. And that’s why I’m freaking out.
He’s Judd. He shouldn’t feel this good. It’s too much too soon.
What did I want? What is my wish? I’ll be forty soon. Shouldn’t I be entering my no-fucks era? Shouldn’t I feel a change coming? Accept singlehood. Sell my company.
These were big. Huge . Yet, why did they feel so small, like I was giving up instead of embracing life?
And, if I was entering my no-fucks era, I should have let Judd kiss me.
“Gah!” I yell at the trees along the empty road, coming to a full stop. My legs ache and my brain is fried, and that’s when I realize . . .
I’m actually lost.
My phone shows I’ve been gone a few hours, and I try using the map app to redirect me, but I don’t have Judd’s address nor do I have good reception. I can’t even figure out where I am.
Suddenly, everything hits me at once. The physical activity. The mental exhaustion. Tears burn the back of my eyes.
I’m left with no choice. I press the contact for Judd which mysteriously wound up on my phone.
“Genie?” My name is said with a deep exhale, like he’d been exerting himself before answering.
“Hey.” I swallow and squint up at the bright noon sky. “I’m lost.”
“Where are you?”
“I don’t exactly know. I went for a walk, but I got turned around.”
Judd takes another sharp inhale before saying, “Drop a pin in your location. I’ll find you.”
“How?” There are apps to follow your friends, and as a single woman, my friends and I often share our location with one another. Safety first, especially when one accepts random dates.
“I’ll be there.” Judd hangs up without further explanation and my breath hitches.
I’ve heard those words before, and they weren’t spoken by Judd. The innocuous phrase could be said by anyone at any time and yet a haunting memory mingles with Judd’s promise.
Quickly, I shake my head, not needing that memory while I wait on the side of an empty road.
Instead, I consider how I haven’t been on a date in a long time other than Ralson, which I don’t count. While I’m still in a mingle-phase, dating is getting tiresome. The getting-to-know you process. The finding out we don’t fit disappointment. I’ve been duped enough that I’m good at deciphering compatibility with another person within five minutes of meeting him.
Which is another reason Judd is so confusing.
We seem to fit.
Within minutes, I hear the telltale roar of a motorcycle engine and then one is breaching the subtle hill in the road.
Judd slows as he nears me. Dressed in jeans and a leather jacket, he wears a helmet on his head. He rolls up alongside me and stops. The engine revs. The heat of the machine warms my bare legs. Judd frees the helmet he had attached to the back and holds it out.
With shaky hands, I set the protection on my head and fumble with the chin strap I can’t see. Judd reaches out and clicks the latch into place. Setting my hands on his shoulders, I hitch myself onto the back of his bike but hesitate.
I’m the one who ran. I’m the one who killed the kiss.
Judd answers my reservations by cupping the back of my knees and tugging on both of them at the same time. Without further hesitation, I wrap my arms around Judd’s waist.
He takes off faster than I expected, and I tighten my hold, so I don’t fall backward. We race in the opposite direction from which he arrived, and I realize after a few minutes, we’re going for a drive.
Eventually, Judd pulls off the road into a small parking lot that marks a scenic viewing point. The mountains are breathtaking from this vantage with the blue sky overhead, and the green-brown of early spring in rolling peaks and valleys. With equal parts of fear Judd will leave me here in the middle of nowhere and afraid to let him go, I remain on the bike.
I don’t have a good reason for not kissing him earlier.
After a minute, Judd shifts, cuts the engine and removes his helmet. I do the same and slide off his Harley with shaky legs. Judd slings his leg over the bike in one smooth move and faces me.
“If anything had happened to you—” He swallows thickly, his eyes roaming down my body as if looking for signs of injury. Still, anger wavers around him like the haze on a hot day over blacktop. He slams his fists into his pockets and stares at me long enough I look away, uneasy from his glare.
“Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been?” Judd’s voice is low and harsh. A shiver-inducing rumble that’s more intimidating than if he’d yelled at me.
I lick my lips, preparing to apologize, when he speaks again.
“Just what the fuck were you thinking?” he continues, stepping closer to me. His jaw is tight. His shoulders stiff. He swipes a hand through his thick hair before those fiery eyes shudder closed. He takes a deep breath and when he opens his eyes again, fear fills them.
And suddenly, I understand. I know what he’s feeling. That drop-in-your-gut sensation when you expect someone to be there, and they aren’t. When you expect them to show up and they don’t.
This has nothing to do with our prom night, and I feel terrible for making Judd worry.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
“I don’t know what’s going on between us,” he begins, blowing out a breath. “And frankly, it scares the hell out of me.”
I agree with his sentiment.
“But I’m standing here, wanting you.” He points to his boot-covered feet. “And if that’s not something you want, I respect that. Nothing needs to happen between us. Nothing.”
He exhales again. “Just, please, don’t run away.”
“I wasn’t. I just . . .” got lost in my head and then got lost on the road . For some reason, I can’t tell him that, though. Self-doubt and past experiences have taken over.
His voice quiets. “Don’t let me think you’ve simply disappeared.” As his voice grows quieter, I realize what I’ve done.
The panic. The fear. The anger. Judd was truly scared I was gone forever , and I know the feeling.
Only I’m right here. Standing before him. Wanting him, too.
I rush at him, wrapping my arms around his midsection, locking my hands against his back. I bury my head in his chest, feeling the heat of the day and the warmth of the road on him. His pounding heart hammers through the tough exterior of his leather jacket. And Judd stands with his arms outward, not touching me.
I squeeze him once before accepting he won’t hug me back, but just as I attempt to pull away, he closes his arms around me.
His lips come to my head, and he lingers there, breathing me in like I’m breathing in him. Winter mint and sunshine. And something that feels so right, it scares the hell out of me.