Chapter Fourteen
Today was not a good day.
Between the freezing cold weather, the fact that she hadn’t slept well and when she had, she’d had weird dreams, and the way she couldn’t seem to get Sawyer out of her head, despite the anger and disappointment she felt about their whole situation, Jenna was wondering if there was a way she could simply remove her own head and set it off in a corner by itself so it would stop bothering her.
“That should be a thing,” she whispered to the shelves as she lined up some new books. “Why isn’t it?”
Keeping busy was the best she could do, so she focused on that.
Shane was there as well, and the two of them worked well together.
His regaling her with stories of his kids helped a lot, kept her from drifting off into the weird mix tape of feelings playing on a loop in her head over Sawyer Hall—who she wished had never left her a sticky note to send her spiraling, and who she also wished would walk in the door right now and literally sweep her off her feet.
At the front desk were several boxes, deliveries dropped off by the UPS guy, and Jenna carefully sliced them open—she’d learned the hard way that you can’t get too exuberant with an X-Acto knife when the box you’re cutting open contains books…
made of paper—while Shane leaned forward on his forearms, reading something on the computer.
“Oh, this is a nice cover,” she said, holding up a new book.
Shane glanced over at the romantasy in her hands. It was deep dark blue with a dragon in the background trimmed in silver and a woman with a flowing purple gown in the front. “I wondered if the computer version would translate to print. Totally does.”
“I’ll skim through it later,” Jenna said. “I’ve heard mixed reviews.”
She pulled out another book, and the model on the cover looked so much like Sawyer, Jenna felt like she’d been punched. Weird because it wasn’t even a photograph, it was illustrated. A cartoon woman with dark hair and glasses, and Jenna was turning her into Sawyer.
“What the fuck is wrong with me?” she whispered as her eyes filled with tears. She made a quick excuse to Shane and hurried back to her office, where she closed the door and dropped into her chair and waited for the emotion to pass.
As if she had telepathy and knew now was the moment Jenna needed to be prodded, her phone lit up with a text from Dakota on the group thread.
Talk to her yet?
Did you talk to her? came immediately after from Ronni, so she knew they’d discussed it.
Hesitating, she typed, then backspaced, then typed, then backspaced, before finally settling on a simple I didn’t.
An anger emoji came from Dakota then. Why not?
Well, that was easy to answer. I was going to, but when I saw her, I was so embarrassed and I just couldn’t. I had to get away from her before I burst into tears.
I get that. God bless Ronni and her ability to understand all sides.
I did ask her if we could talk, and I did tell her that her sticky note had triggered me, but that’s as far as I got. And reading those words back made her grimace, thinking how confused and possibly hurt Sawyer probably was, wondering what exactly was happening.
That’s a start, Dakota typed. Don’t let it go on too long, though. Ron and I chatted a couple times about how you light up when you talk about her. Maybe give her a chance? Tell her the truth, yeah?
Hard agree was Ronni’s contribution.
She couldn’t be mad that her best friends talked about her love life when she wasn’t around.
She’d talked to one of them about the love life of the other a hundred times.
It’s what friends did. They chatted and they theorized and they worried.
They also knew her better than anybody else, and they loved her.
And the truth was, she felt the tiniest bit less stressed after talking to them.
She inhaled deeply and let it ease out of her.
Okay. I’ll do that.
Smiley emojis from Ronni and, weirdly, a Champagne bottle emoji from Dakota popped up, and Jenna laughed quietly.
Might be time to listen to her friends.
“Why do you do that?” Courtney’s voice held an edge that surprised Sawyer.
“What do you mean?” She had the phone propped up against a coffee mug while she unloaded her dishwasher.
Courtney rarely just called or texted. She FaceTimed.
Like, all the damn time. Sawyer always found herself fixing her hair or her clothes the whole time, her eyes drawn against her will to the tiny rectangle that showed her own face. “Do what?”
“You let women you like dictate how things go, Sawyer. It’s not good.”
Oh. That. She sighed, then stretched out of the frame to put a dish on a higher shelf. She had told Courtney about Jenna asking to talk, then asking for time, and not hearing from her since. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”
“Probably?” Okay, the edge in Courtney’s voice hardened enough that Sawyer stopped what she was doing to look at the screen.
“You’re mad at me.”
“I’m pissed at you.”
Sawyer flinched like her sister had smacked her. “Why?”
“Because you refuse to stand up for yourself. Everybody in your life sees what a great person you are. What a catch. Why don’t you?”
“I know. I know.” It was not a new argument, but then there was a knock on the door, three sharp raps that saved her from any more of Courtney’s wrath.
“Somebody’s at the door,” she said quickly, grateful for an excuse to end this convo.
“Gotta go. Call you back later.” She hung up in the middle of Courtney’s protests, then blew out a relieved breath as she pocketed her phone and headed to the door.
Her relief was probably super obvious to Jenna as she stood there.
“Hey,” she said with a furrow in her brow. She looked almost angry. Was she angry?
“Hi. Come in.” Sawyer stood aside and let Jenna come in.
Jenna was here. That was the only thought that ran through her head, and it made her happy.
Jenna was here. Angry, she thought, but also super cute in her anger, and what the hell was that about?
What is wrong with me? she wondered, even as she took in the soft-looking jeans and light blue sweatshirt with a big white heart on the front.
Jenna’s hair was in a ponytail, and she looked like every leading “nice girl” in every teen angst film she’d ever seen.
They stood there, much too awkwardly for two people who’d shared the night they’d had, but Jenna seemed to be struggling with words, so Sawyer jumped in first.
“First of all, I want to apologize. I didn’t think the note would be an issue. I certainly didn’t mean for it to indicate anything other than I was trying to be quiet, but…” She swallowed the sudden lump camped out in her throat. “But it bothered you, and I’m sorry about that.”
Jenna glanced around the room as if hoping words would appear on the wall. Finally, she said, “It wasn’t your fault. I said before that it triggered me, and that wasn’t your fault. But it did.”
“Can you tell me why?”
“I dated somebody a while back. A woman named Whitney. I thought we had something good, but it turned out I was just casual for her.” She sighed, clearly annoyed by the story. “We never talked about what we were, and I—”
She stopped there and swallowed, took a moment to get her bearings, maybe? Sawyer wasn’t sure.
But then she went on, looking Sawyer in the eye as she said, “I don’t do casual sex, Sawyer. I’m not wired that way. But that’s what we were to her. Just sex. And when we had ‘run our course’ ”—she made air quotes—“she left me a sticky note saying so.”
Sawyer frowned in disbelief, her heart aching for Jenna.
“So, if that’s what we had, if that’s what we are to you, it’s better that I know it now. Save myself the heartache down the road.” She blew out a little puff of breath there, like she was relieved to have gotten all the words out.
The relief Sawyer felt course through her system was like a drug, both uplifting and calming at the same time.
Shouldn’t have been possible, but there it was.
“First of all,” she said, holding Jenna’s gaze, “I’m so sorry you went through that.
I’m even more sorry that I brought it all up again.
For the record, I use sticky notes all the time.
They’re all over my workspace at the office.
” Jenna gazed down at her feet and smiled softly at that.
“Second of all… ” She dipped her head until she caught Jenna’s gaze again.
“We are much, much more than casual to me.” The eye contact held, and it was strong.
Solid. She held it for a moment longer before letting it go and moving to the couch where she took a seat.
“That being said, I admit that I was scared.”
Jenna seemed to relax just a bit. Or maybe Sawyer was making that up, wishful thinking. But she put her hands in the back pockets of her jeans, the stance softer. “What scared you?” There was no accusation in her voice this time. Only curiosity.
Sawyer swallowed, and it seemed so loud in the quiet room. She scratched at a spot on the side of her neck as she said, “You did. We did. I did.”
Jenna pressed her lips together as she nodded. “That’s a lot of scared.”
“Sure felt like it.”
Jenna finally moved, came into the room and took a seat at the opposite end of the couch, leaving an entire cushion between them. “You could have talked to me, you know.”
“Yeah.” Sawyer sighed. “I just…I panicked. I woke up and you were sleeping and everything was so good, felt so perfect, and I just panicked.”
Jenna tipped her head from one side to the other as she said, “I mean, perfection is a great reason to panic.”
“Right?”
“No, you dork, not at all!” And Jenna laughed. She was laughing now. Thank God. “Why the hell would you panic if it was all so good?”
It was now. Now was the time. She knew this.
She knew if she ever wanted to have anything real ever again in her life, she had to be completely honest about her past. She took a deep breath and blew it out slowly to center herself.
“Because in my past relationship, whenever something was really good, it didn’t stay that way.
Things being perfect was the lead-up to things being shitty.
It was a very discernable pattern that I became alarmingly used to, and I don’t want that to happen again. ”
Jenna was listening intently. Sawyer could tell by the weight of her gaze, the furrow of her brow, her slight nod as Sawyer spoke. “So, you woke up and it was all good, and you thought, ‘I have to get out of here before the next part comes.’ ”
“Exactly.”
Jenna took a moment to absorb that. “Wow. That’s a tough way to exist.”
Sawyer glanced down at her hands, noticed how tightly she’d clasped them together, and forced herself to relax. “Yeah. I’ve been pretty much conditioned. Been trying to break all the bad habits, but it can be hard.”
“You’ll get there, though.”
“I hope so.”
“What can I do to help?” Jenna had lightened by the moment. Sawyer had watched it happen as she spoke. Her face relaxed. Her shoulders lowered. And her question surprised Sawyer.
“What do you mean?”
Jenna wet her lips and seemed to take a moment to gather her thoughts. “I mean that I like you. And I think you like me.”
“I do.” Was that too fast? That was probably too fast.
Jenna grinned. “Well, good.” She cleared her throat and looked down at her hands in her lap, and Sawyer realized it was the first time during the conversation that Jenna seemed…uncertain. “Maybe we could, I don’t know, go out to dinner or something? Some time?”
Was she saying what Sawyer thought she was saying? “Like, go back to the beginning, you mean? Go on a date?”
“Yes. A date. Exactly.”
Sawyer just looked at her, knowing the grin on her face was wide and likely a little goofy. “I’d like that. Very much.”
“Yeah?” At Sawyer’s nod, Jenna smiled and nodded. “Good.” Then she held up a finger. “I have conditions, though.”
Sawyer waved her on.
“If things feel weird, we have to say so. Both of us. Deal?”
“Hundred percent. Deal.”
“If I’m sleeping and you have to leave, you wake me up first.”
Sawyer took a moment to absorb the fact that Jenna maybe saw them in bed together again. She nodded with enthusiasm. “Got it.”
“No more sticky notes.”
“No more sticky notes.”
“Okay.” They sat there for a moment before Jenna pushed to her feet. “I have to go feed my boys. Give me a hug.” She made a “come here” gesture, rolling her hand.
Sawyer jumped to her feet, very much enjoying this bossy version of Jenna, and she walked into her arms.
That’s where everything stopped, calmed, relaxed.
Sawyer let out a long, slow breath, then inhaled the scent of night jasmine that followed Jenna wherever she went, let it fill her lungs, her psyche.
She took it all in—the way Jenna’s body felt in her arms, soft and strong, feminine, the way Jenna’s arms felt around her as they held her, safe and certain.
A big part of her wanted to kiss Jenna, touch those lips with her own, but she also knew that might be pushing it.
Instead, she placed a gentle kiss on her cheek as they parted, and Jenna smiled softly.
“Text me?” she asked.
Sawyer nodded. “I will. Give Arnold a kiss for me.”
“I will.” With that, Jenna turned and opened the front door. She seemed to hesitate in the doorway and turned back to Sawyer. She looked like she wanted to say something, actually took a breath in preparation, then let it out without words. She smiled and said simply, “ ’Night, Sawyer.”
“Good night.”
The door clicked closed and Sawyer stood in her living room listening to the muffled sounds from next door, Jenna baby-talking to her animals, and she couldn’t help but smile. A warmth settled around her, along with a weird sense that life was just about to begin.