Chapter 25
CHAPTER 25
MIKAEL
I'm dating Chelsey, and Valentine's Day is coming. I'm in a pickle. How did I get here?
I broke my rule of dating close to Valentine's Day.
She's pushing to make us official. What am I going to do?
I can't buy her jewelry; it would imply I'm in love with her, and I'm not.
We're lying in bed, and her arm is draped possessively over my abs.
“We should come out officially on Valentine's Day,” she coos as she runs her leg up mine. It's too early in the morning to discuss serious relationship issues.
I'm smothered. I toss the blanket off me, along with her arm, and stand. She's been here every night this week.
I need my space. I can relate to Kenzie's panic attacks. I'm having one now. I walk to the bathroom and bend, taking deep breaths.
I'm like a trapped raccoon, ready to fight my way out of an alley. How did this happen? Why do I feel like I'm suffocating with my girlfriends?
Do I fear commitment?
Chelsey knocks softly on the bathroom door. “Talk to me.”
“I'm fine.” My voice is gruff. I'm filled with dread. I don't want to be here. I need to make a dignified escape.
“I wanted to make plans for Valentine's Day—the restaurants are booked in advance,” she says.
“I'll handle it,” I croak.
God, why can't she take her foot off the gas?
I won't be forced into an engagement. However, she's a slick talker. It took her two years to get me to date her. She's already secured a dresser drawer. I didn't offer it. She created it for herself.
How did she take over my house? She's claiming her space and never bothered to ask. Now, she's rushing me to decide on our relationship status.
I've been jumping through hoops since we hooked up two weeks ago. She has me toeing the line with social engagements. She craves the bright lights of our lifestyle. Perhaps one has to embrace it or ignore it.
Is it possible to have a happy medium? What happened to balance?
It's a grand opening of a trendy restaurant, followed by a movie premiere, and she's hinting at gifts for Valentine's Day, all of which are thousands of dollars. It's not the money as much as the expectation that follows.
I've become a bystander in my life. I hate confrontations, and she's capitalizing on my weakness.
I wash my face. I throw the door open and find her standing in lingerie, hoping for round two.
“I have to go. Practice,” I murmur and head to my closet. At least she's not moved into the second closet, but it's only because I took Finn's advice and filled it with my winter stuff.
“Baby, I want you,” she moans, and she walks behind me.
“Later, Chelsey.”
“Wow.” She steps back as if I scolded her. Then, she stares at me. “You're going to see her, aren't you?”
“What do you mean?” I look at her, confused.
“Kenzie.”
“Why do you say that?” I draw my eyebrows together. I'm so pissed I think I'll probably have a permanent crease on my forehead. My upper lip stiffens.
“I can tell she's on your mind. No one turns me down for sex,” she huffs, placing a hand on her hip as if we're in a standoff.
Maybe we are.
Was I going to go to the shop? I go daily. Why should I change my routine?
“Whatever,” I huff, tugging on jeans, a T-shirt, and a pullover.
“No, it's her or me, Mikael. I won't be the other woman.”
“Then don't. You're asking me to change everything in my life for you.”
“What do you expect? I'm twenty-eight. I need to know if you're in this or not. It's been two years of dancing around each other,” she pouts.
“Maybe there is a reason we never pursued taking this step before.” I step into my ankle boots and tie them, grabbing a down vest.
“Oh, you're so crass. You think you can have your cake and eat it, too. Well, I'm not standing for it,” she screams.
I stand, mesmerized by her red face. I've never seen this side of her before. Kerplunk! The infamous shoe dropped.
Sadly, I had a feeling it would happen. What's wrong with me?
Finn was right. My life continues to repeat.
Why do I attract the same woman, packaged differently? I like safety; who doesn't? These are women I know. They understand my lifestyle, and I thought they would be a good fit. However, time and again, they all want more from me. They love being on my arm and posing when the press snaps pictures.
I ask myself, What do you want, Mikael?
Not this. I make a decision.
She's not the one.
“Fine. We're over. You wanted an answer. Now you have one.” My breathing is fast and shallow.
If the anger in her eyes could kill, I'd be a dead man twice over.
“We can work it out, Mikael.” Her voice softens to de-escalate the situation. “I moved too fast. You're not used to someone living with you. I get it.”
“No, Chelsey. You don't. I'm not doing this. You need to pack your stuff.”
Her face puckers unbecomingly. I hear her choke up, and then a tear wells in her eye.
A fake tear! I never knew life could be so monotonous and predictable.
Finn warned me that I was in my version of Groundhog Day .
“Leave the key on the counter,” I state before walking to the door. She follows behind me and reaches to grab my arm. “Mikael!” she hollers.
I shrug her off, open the door, and slide into my car. My breathing returns to normal. I hope she doesn't try to fix us.
I'm no longer listening. She's not the one. I thought we had more in common and we could grow together. But I misjudged us.
I don't appreciate manipulations, and her fake crying was the icing on the cake.
I have another failed relationship—an epic failure. I don't know why I decided to jump in. Maybe I felt I owed her a chance to see if we worked.
I don't desire a life in front of the cameras. I realize I'm making others happy, but it comes at my expense.
I aimlessly drive my car, and when I park, I discover I'm at the bakery. It's like I'm on autopilot. I come here so often, I'm sure it's a habit. I hope Kenzie is here. I know she'll have a welcoming smile for me. I pull the visor down and check my complexion in the mirror. I've calmed down. I look normal—rational. Relief bathes me like the sunlight as I walk to her door.
Why do I seek her out whenever my life takes a turn?
I walk into the shop, and the overhead bell jingles. My eyes double as heat-seeking missiles as I scan the shop for the warm and pleasant face I've grown accustomed to seeing.
She's boxing a cake for an older woman and making conversation as she works. She adds a personal touch to everything she does. She glances my way as if she senses me.
How does she do that? She sees me every day, but to her, it's as if we just met. Her eyes glow with excitement, and she gives me her award-winning smile.
Kenzie doesn't care about my money or what I own. She never even asked where I live. She doesn't wear jewelry; perhaps it gets in the way at work as she uses her hands.
“Thank you, dear. My grandson will love it,” says the petite woman with hair that's so silver it appears white. She walks past me carrying the box with a smile.
“Hey, Kenzie,” I say.
“Mikael.”
“What's for breakfast today?” I'm rattled. Is it from my breakup with Chelsey? Or is it Kenzie's warm vanilla scent I've become accustomed to?
“An egg and sausage croissant with cheese.”
“You had me at croissant. You know I'm addicted to your food.” I'm sure she knows I buy from her or her staff daily.
She laughs. “I do.”
“Do you have time to join me?” Please say yes. It's been a day, and her presence calms me.
She glances at the counter and nods to a table. “Let me grab your coffee.”
“Sure.” My heart flip-flops in my chest. What's happening to me?
She pours two cups and slides a hot coffee across the counter. “Thank you,” I murmur.
“No problem.”
I take a seat at a table for two and watch her as she moves eloquently around the workstations, putting together two breakfast sandwiches. She's poetry in motion. Her lithe body knows what to do, and her hands are nimble.
She walks toward me with bakery papers around two sandwiches.
“You're early,” she comments.
I shrug.
“Everything okay?”
“Yes.”
“You're not yourself today,” she comments. How does she know I'm in a mood?
“How can you tell?” I take a bite of the incredible breakfast she hands me.
She shrugs. “I just do. So what happened? Are you going to tell me, or will I have to beat it out of you?” Her voice is light, but I know she'll be relentless until I speak.
She's direct. It takes a minute for me to realize that I love this about her. I was floored when she called Susan a Bambi, but I shared her opinion.
Friends tend to be like-minded. Finn and I have similar opinions. He's a straight shooter, even if I don't like what he tells me. If I can't count on my closest friends to be honest with me, then who will tell me when I'm behaving like a jerk?
Kenzie and I share the same values. We know what it's like to have our worlds ripped apart by illness, fear, and death. We give back to the causes close to our hearts. The women I date show up for pictures at charity events. Kenzie would work them.
She’s important to me and I have to have her in my life. She’s my first thought in the morning and my last thought at night. I think of her constantly. I can't fuck up our friendship.
What we have is special and I want to know if she bought the shop. I want her dreams to come true. Friends do that.
So why do I care so much about her buying the store?
Friends help each other. That's all.
Besides, the fact she cares about my state of mind is touching. I can't remember the last time a woman asked how I was.
“I broke up with Chelsey,” I murmur.
“Wow.” She sits tall in her chair.
“Yeah.”
“What happened?”
“She was moving too fast. I was spooked.” I should tell her I realized we weren't right for each other. “I panicked.”I shrug and sink my teeth into the buttery croissant stuffed with melted cheese, egg, and sausage.
“It happens,” she replies, then she raises the coffee cup to her lips.
Perfectly pink kissable lips. I’m jealous of the bread in her mouth.
I brace for her to say more, but she's content. There's no judgment.
I tell myself to stop staring at her pretty green eyes. Her hair is swept into an updo, and a tendril of hair falls over her cheek. I resist an urge to sweep it behind her ear.
“It's probably better you ended it sooner than later. She is overly protective of you.”
I raise my eyebrows. “What do you mean?”
“She wasn't happy I was with you at the tournament,” Kenzie states as if everyone knows this but me.
Kenzie is calm, but I'm livid.
“What happened? Did she say something?” My heart races. What did Chelsey do?
“She came by to warn me off you.”
“No kidding,” I reply, shocked. I rub my hand over my chin. “I'm sorry.”
Kenzie shrugs. “It's nothing.”
“I guess you got a taste of my world,” I murmur. “I'm sorry for that.”
“I won't break. It's nothing. It's been years since I had a jealous woman on my hands.” She pauses. “I don't mean to imply that the women you date are ...”
“No need to apologize. This is why I walk on eggshells with them.”
She nods. “I like Finn and Simon. I didn't have much time to talk to the others.”
“He likes you—they both do. Simon is buying a Labrador for his family.” Simon is particular, so the fact that he's acting on Kenzie's recommendation is noteworthy.
She's even more adorable when she blushes at my compliment.
“But enough about me,” I say, then I wash down my last bite with coffee. “What's up with the shop?” I'm curious as I've not received a status update from my attorney. My heart races. Will she accept the offer?
I hope she does. I want her to have this shop. It would not be the same without her.
And if someone new takes it over, they might bring in a new baker. Am I being selfish? I quickly decided I didn’t care how it looked to others. I need to have her in my life— damn the costs.
“Oh. I forgot to tell you. Bo's firm received an offer from an angel investor! I signed the papers last night! You're looking at the new owner!“ Her eyes dance with excitement, and her face glows like never before.
Well, that's not true. She is always in a good mood, even when I know she must be exhausted from being on her feet all day. She gets to work before dawn, and sometimes she's still here in mid-afternoon.
“Congratulations!” I pretend to be surprised.
My heart swells. She took the opportunity to secure the store. Good girl.
I'm proud of her. And I'm so happy; the stressful morning fades.
I find solace in my decision to be her anonymous partner. She's independent and opinionated. I doubt she would have accepted help from me otherwise. No harm done. She'll never have to know. It will take time before she can buy me out.
Time is on my side. We can continue as if nothing has changed because nothing has.
My plan was brilliant.
She gets what she wants, and so do I.
But for some reason, Chelsey's words about having my cake and eating it too haunt me.