Will
Chapter Forty-One
For the first morning in months, I wasn’t spending my ride to work wondering where Elsie was. If she was awake or still sleeping. If she was wearing pajamas or already dressed. What she looked like when she woke up in the morning. What time I might see her that day—if I would see her that day.
I didn’t have to wonder, because now I knew. I had answers to all of my questions, and it felt like I’d gained some secret key to a universe I hadn’t thought could ever exist.
And there was something bizarrely prideful about the fact that it was my house she was starting her morning in. My kitchen table, I’d left her writing at. And my shirt she was still wearing when I left.
I smiled at the memory.
For the first time, in as long as I could remember, life felt worthwhile again. Like I wasn’t just going through the motions, but had something real to look forward to at the end of it all. Something to work toward. Someone to go home to.
The only problem was standing behind the counter, a living reminder of exactly how much of an asshole I’d been to a guy I’d known since elementary school.
“Morning,” Theo said without looking up from where he frowned at the espresso machine. “Did you have a good—wow, you look…like you had a good night.”
“I did,” I said, shifting under the weight of his smirk.
I cleared my throat.
“Hey, thanks for opening for me today,” I said, sounding as awkward as I felt, because how the hell was I supposed to apologize for my behavior the night before? And probably for the weeks leading up to it as well?
“No problem,” he said before his eyes narrowed on me. “Is that a hickey on your neck?”
“What?” My hand shot up to cover a tender spot that Elsie had paid extra close attention to last night. “No.”
“Jesus, Will.” Theo’s laugh erupted out of him, far more pleased than I’d been anticipating him being. “Is this the first time you kissed a girl since college?”
“Of course not,” I told him.
It’s just the first time I felt anything when I did.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“What? You wanted me to call you after I kissed her?” I busied myself with the morning routine.
“No, jackass. I meant, why didn’t you tell me you liked her?”
I shrugged, not knowing how to even begin to explain my behavior over the last few months.
I’d never been the type of guy to screw a friend over for a girl.
I’d never been the type of guy to even do it to an enemy.
Because, in all honesty, girls had never mattered that much to me in the first place.
If one I liked was taken, then there were plenty of others to choose from. That’s how it had always been.
But now? With Elsie? It was like there were no other women to choose from. It was only ever her. Every direction I looked, thought or dreamed, it was all red hair and green eyes and chatter that could last for days.
I didn’t even want to want anyone else.
But he didn’t want to hear all that. He wanted to know point blank why I hadn’t told him that I was interested in her. Especially since he’d been upfront with me from the start.
But I couldn’t have told him I liked her, even if I’d wanted to. The truth was, I didn’t even know it myself until I was past the point of being able to talk about it.
“She sort of…snuck up on me,” I said, tugging my baseball cap behind me. “And you’d been trying to ask her out since she got to town, and I don’t know. I just didn’t know what to say, I guess.”
It wasn’t a good enough excuse. It sounded pathetic even to my own ears.
“I’m sorry,” I told him honestly. “It was a dick move. Lying and not saying anything and then swooping in last night the way I did. I wouldn’t blame you if you hated me.”
Hell, I hated him when I thought he was standing in the way of me and Elsie.
“What?” He narrowed his eyes, a disbelieving shake of his head. “I don’t hate you, man. I’m just confused why you didn’t think you could talk to me about it.”
“If I could’ve found a way to say it without sounding like I was in seventh grade, I would’ve,” I admitted gruffly.
“It doesn’t matter now.” He waved a hand. “She never liked me, anyway. I think I always knew that. Besides, it was clear from day one that there was something going on between you two. I just didn’t think you’d actually pursue it. If you’d told me you wanted her, you know I would’ve backed off.”
“If it was a matter of just wanting her, it would’ve been a hell of a lot easier,” I admitted. “The thing is—” I paused, not knowing if I should even be admitting something like this out loud. “I feel like I need her.”
It felt dangerous to say. Like admitting it to someone else would somehow make me lose her all the sooner.
“Shit.” Theo grinned. “Will Hughes in love. Never thought I’d see the day.”
“So, we’re cool then?” I asked.
“Of course, dude.” He held up a fist to bump, and I blew out a breath, grateful beyond belief that Theo was still the same laid-back guy I’d grown up with.
“Thanks.” I met his fist with my own, but before it dropped, his expression shifted, slightly enough that I might not have noticed if I hadn’t been paying as close attention as I was.
“What? What’s that face for?”
“Nothing,” Theo said, shrugging it off quickly. “It’s none of my business.”
“What is it?”
“It’s just that…well, isn’t the reason I was interested in her going to be a big opposition for you?”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning…hasn’t her plan always been to, you know, leave? And, like, really fucking soon?”
And there it was. The needle in my bubble that I would’ve been perfectly content to stay in as long as possible.
“Well, yeah,” I admitted, remembering her timeline of three months. “But that was before—”
Before what? Before we kissed? Before we hooked up? Before I figured out how pathetically I need her to stay?
We hadn’t even talked about what it was we were doing. What if to her, I was just a guy to pass the time with until she skipped town? I couldn’t handle that. I already knew I couldn’t. Not now, when I knew what it was like to have her.
Theo must’ve read every thought in my head because he slapped my back sympathetically
“I’m gonna head to the back and help Ava,” he said, pausing right before he passed me. “But if I were you, I’d figure that out before you get any more invested than you already are.”
Too fucking late for that.
Theo’s words spread like a virus through my mind all morning, replaying themselves over and over until they distorted into something far worse than what they’d started out as.
I hadn’t thought I was imaginative enough, but I saw it play out like a horror movie in my mind.
I pictured her walking home, packing up all her stuff, throwing it in the car and driving back to Boston, with only a sticky note left behind saying, “Thanks for a good time!”
It wasn’t until I overflowed a cup of coffee I’d been pouring that I realized I needed to get my head out of my ass and just call her.
It rang, and rang, and rang, and on the fourth ring, when I’d thought for sure that everything playing out in my mind wasn’t just a ‘what-if’ scenario but some psychic vision that was actually playing out in real time, she answered.
“Hey.” Her voice was like cold water, bringing me back to myself. “What’s up?”
I blew out a silent breath, leaning against the counter.
“Hi,” I said, searching for an excuse of why I was calling her only three hours after I left. “I just wanted to check in on you.”
“Oh, good thing you called, because I started two fires, flooded your shower and just finished going through all your personal belongings.”
“Don’t joke about fires,” I said with a smile. “Considering it’s not out of the realm of possibilities for you.”
“Geez, I was at the scene of one cookie malfunction and now I have a reputation for life.”
“Yeah, well, Colbridge has a long memory, so don’t expect to be living that one down anytime soon.”
“No, but actually, I haven’t moved from the spot you left me this morning.”
“No?” I asked, pleased that if I couldn’t see her at the table in the corner of the café in front of me, at least she was still at my house.
“Well, that’s a lie. I had to pee, so I got up to do that—”
“Very relieved you made that call.”
“Shut up,” she teased. “But, yeah, besides that, I’ve been here cranking out words. The silence here is very conducive to writing.”
“Oh yeah? Glad to hear it.”
I felt like an idiot smiling into my phone.
“But, if you want me to get out of your space, I can totally pack up and go home—”
“No,” I said, and then coughed to cover up how hurriedly I’d responded. “I mean no. You don’t have to do that. I just wanted to let you know that if you wanted to come by the café, I can always come pick you up when it gets slow and bring you here.”
God, I sounded like an idiot. I ran a hand over my face, hoping it wasn’t as obvious to her as it was to me.
“Well, if you’re not kicking me out,” she said, unfazed, “then I actually think I’d like to stay here longer and keep writing while I’m on a roll.”
“Stay as long as you want,” I urged.
And then, unable to help myself, because apparently I’d somehow degenerated into some lovesick fool, I asked, “If you stay, I’ll bring dinner back on my way home.”
“Not sick of me yet, huh?” I heard her grin through the phone.
“Guess not.” I huffed a laugh. “So, will you stay?”
“How can I say no to dinner?” she said. “Considering the only things in my cupboards were stale oyster crackers and tomato soup left over from Mr. Briggs’s stash.”
“Great, it’s a plan,” I said, my eyes landing on the empty table where she usually sat. “And uh, I—”
“Yes?”
“I, uh—hope you have a good day…” I trailed off, and then wanted to punch myself in the face.
“Thanks, you too. And Will?”
“Yeah?”
“I miss you.”
I let out an inaudible exhale, closing my eyes in relief.
“Thank God for that,” I told her. “Because I miss you too.”
“That’s nice to hear,” she said, and then I heard her fingers clicking against her keyboard. “Work hard. I’ll see you later.”
“Bye, Els,” I said, hanging up.
Yeah, I thought. I could get used to this being the new normal.