Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Peter
I’m reeling here. It’s been a solid week since I learned about the job in Charlotte, and I’m no closer to knowing what to do. I haven’t even told anyone about the offer. Not Sophie. Not Allison. Not my parents.
Professionally, it would be an incredible move. Mostly an incredible move. I have concerns about how I would fit in a corporate culture. I like wearing a suit every once in a while, but it’s hard to imagine doing it every day. And I have so much freedom working in Serendipity Springs. Dr. Conway is an excellent boss, and while I don’t make as much money as I could, I make enough.
I’m not sure what I’d gain would compensate for what I’d be giving up.
On a personal level, part of me wants to take it just to get away from Sophie. To make it a little easier to box up my feelings like I did last time. It got easier when we were in college. The distance helped.
But another part can’t stop thinking about my sister’s assertion last weekend that I’m not being fair to Sophie if I don’t tell her how I feel. Even Sophie’s mom thinks we’re meant to be together.
Even if that’s true, how do I broach the subject when Sophie seems so excited about dating other people?
My thoughts are not less jumbled when I find Sophie’s date standing on the stoop outside The Serendipity’s front door at seven p.m. on the nose, and for the first time, I’m faced with a guy who looks like he actually could be Sophie’s soulmate.
“Jake?” I say, as I hold open the front door.
“Yes?” he says, his confusion reasonable since he’s expecting Sophie, and I’m not half as beautiful as she is.
Jake, though. He is beautiful. Stupidly so. He’s an inch or two taller than I am with broad shoulders and really good hair. Thick and full. His teeth are straight, his eyes are bright blue. He looks like he belongs in a car commercial. Or in a print ad selling cologne.
I immediately hate the guy.
Which is stupid and wrong, and I do my best to swallow the emotion. Because it isn’t hatred. It’s jealousy. And I’m enough of a man to admit it, even just to myself.
“Hey, Sophie sent me down to let you in. She’s up on the rooftop watering her garden, but you’re welcome to wait for her up there.”
“Oh, awesome,” Jake says. “Sounds good.” He walks toward me, and I lean back, holding the door open so he can cross in front of me into the building.
“Cool place,” he says. “Are you and Sophie neighbors?”
“And friends,” I say. “We went to high school together.”
“Oh, cool. Locally?” Jake asks. “Sophie and I haven’t talked about where she’s from.”
“Yeah. Sweethaven High.” I motion toward the stairs. “You want the stairs? Or a really old elevator? It’s four flights.”
“Stairs are cool,” Jake says. “I skipped my workout today. It’ll be good for me.”
I try my best to take the stairs at a reasonable pace, but it’s possible I take them a little faster than usual, and by the time we reach the top of the third floor, Jake’s huffing, his breath coming in short bursts.
I am only slightly ashamed of how happy this makes me. I rarely have the opportunity to be that guy. I can never bench the most or run the fastest. But I swam distance in high school—still swim at the gym when I have the chance—and I’m built for endurance. I can climb stairs all day.
“What about you?” I say to Jake. “Are you from around here?”
“Nah, from Charlotte, actually,” Jake says. “I’m just here for my residency.”
My ears perk up when he mentions Charlotte. Would it be weird if I asked him how he liked the city? “Residency?” I ask instead. “You’re a doctor?”
He takes a deep breath as we finally reach the top of the fourth floor. “Yeah. A pediatrician over at Springs Memorial.” He looks over his shoulder and glances down the stairs. “Man, apparently I need to work on my cardio.”
I fight a groan. The guy isn’t just a pediatrician. He’s a self-deprecating one who is making it harder and harder for me to hate him.
“Just one more flight,” I say as I lead him down the hall and to the back stairwell that accesses the roof. I wait just inside the door just like always, but Sophie won’t need me this time. Not with this guy. Her ick detector might be broken, but mine isn’t, and Jake seems like the real deal.
Still. What are the odds any one of the men Sophie brings up here will actually trigger a bloom? I lean against the brick wall behind me and think about the data I’d need to figure it out. The numbers will change depending on a few different factors. Age limitations, proximity, relationship status. But the biggest factor is something unknown, and that’s a major hindrance to me finding an actual statistic.
Does the flower bloom for one single soulmate?
Or could there be multiple possibilities?
Does it guarantee a happy ending? Or does it just promise the potential for one?
I’m still thinking through the different variables, forming potential equations, when the door squeaks and Sophie and Jake appear.
My heart starts pounding as I take in her expression. She looks happy, comfortable, but she doesn’t look as starry-eyed as I would expect had the flower officially bloomed for her and Jake. But they’re leaving together, so…does that mean it did?
Maybe she’s just walking him out?
Jake eyes me as he passes by, but I’m not going to apologize for still being here, no matter how genuine he seemed when we first met. Sophie is my best friend, and he’s a stranger. I won’t take chances.
I make eye contact with Sophie, and she offers me a hesitant smile.
“You okay?” I ask, and she quickly nods.
“Yep. Just headed to dinner.” She starts down the stairs, hand gripping the railing, but I call her back.
“Sophie.”
She turns and looks over her shoulder. “We’ll talk later, okay?”
Then she’s gone.
I breathe through my nose, slow and steady, and count to ten. When the fourth-floor access door opens, then clicks closed, I count to ten again. They’re either taking the grand staircase or the elevator down to the first floor. Either way, I want them well and truly gone before I leave the stairwell.
So that’s it, then. She’s met her soulmate. That’s all it took.
Of course, I knew it was a possibility, but I didn’t think it would happen before I took my shot, told Sophie how I feel.
I finally make my way down the stairs, twitchy and agitated, and push through the fourth-floor access door. Without really thinking about what I’m doing, I charge down the hallway to Archer’s penthouse apartment. It’s not a true penthouse because it doesn’t take up the entire fourth floor. But it does fill the entire front of the building, which means you could fit my place inside his place many times over.
I knock on the door, trusting that this late in the day, Willa will probably be there.
Luckily, it’s Willa who opens the door.
“Hey, Peter,” she says. “What’s up?”
I push into the apartment without waiting for an invitation.
“Sure. Come on in,” she says dryly.
I spin around in Archer’s entryway. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. What’s going on?”
“Sophie is out on a date.”
“Oh, right. Jake? The pediatrician?”
I nod, hands propped on my hips. Jaw clenched.
“Is everything okay? He seemed nice. At least from all the DMs she let me read.”
“He was very nice. That’s the problem.”
She frowns. “I still don’t understand.”
“They went to dinner,” I say more pointedly. “She was only supposed to go to dinner if the flower bloomed, Willa. And they went.”
Her eyes widen. “Oh. Oh! Oh, my gosh. That’s great news.”
I shake my head, letting out a disheartened laugh.
“Or it’s…not great news?” Willa asks. “Peter, what are you not saying right now? Why is this a bad thing?”
I have no idea why I’m here. What I’m even supposed to say. I knew this was a possibility. I can’t be upset about it now. But I just thought I had more time to figure out what to say and how to say it.
When I finally look up to meet Willa’s eye, her expression is full of compassion and understanding.
“You’re in love with her,” she says gently.
When I don’t object, she lets out a sigh to match mine.
“Oh, Peter.”
Before I can respond, Archer appears in the entryway and wordlessly hands me a heavy crystal glass, then turns and heads into the living room.
“That was an invitation to stay,” Willa whispers.
I lift the glass to my nose. “Bourbon?”
She nods. “Worth more than your rent, probably.” She gestures for me to follow her into the living room. “Come on. Sit. Drink. Tell me everything.”