Chapter 9
Nine
SEPTEMBER 8 YEARS AGO
I rush down the sidewalk, pushing people out of the way as gently as possible despite the glares being thrown in my direction anyway. My mood immediately brightens when I spot Warren through the window of Kallia, sitting at our table in the corner with two cups of coffee in front of him.
“Sorry I’m late,” I huff, out of breath from half-running the whole way here, and dropping into the seat across from him. He slides my iced mocha over to me and I finally start to relax after I take the first sip of the perfectly balanced sweet and bitter drink. As I set down the cup, I realize he’s staring at me with quirked eyebrows and the corner of his mouth curls up into an amused smile. “What?”
And then I realize what he’s wearing—a light gray T-shirt, black chino shorts, and black boat shoes. My head tilts in confusion, but after a moment my lips press together.
“It’s Labor Day, isn’t it?” I say, looking down at my black knee-length dress, beige blazer, and nude heels. He laughs and my cheeks heat. “Why didn’t you remind me?”
“I figured when you said see you tomorrow last night that you forgot we didn’t have work today. I thought it’d be more fun to just show up here at our usual time and see what happened.”
I try to glare, but I can’t stay mad at him when he flashes that face-squishing grin.
“Now, come on, finish up your coffee. We have plans today.” He smirks at my shocked expression.
“We do?”
“Of course, we do. You think I came all the way over here just for coffee?” He raises an eyebrow at me, and my smile grows. “It’s a beautiful sunny day, and I’m with Miss Summers after all, so we’re going to enjoy this weather.”
I blush again and take a sip of my drink before he can see the color on my cheeks. We text practically 24/7, and he’s now a normal addition to lunches and evenings out with Ali, Trent, and Sterling. But he hasn’t asked me out yet and I’m starting to question if he feels that way at all or if it’s just me trying to wish it into existence. But then he goes and does something like this and that warm, hopeful feeling comes flooding back.
“Where are we going?”
“First, to your apartment,” he says, eyeing my outfit. “I’m thinking you’ll want to change.”
* * *
After I throw on shorts and a cute top, we walk around the city, going in and out of any stores we find but barely looking at the merchandise. We’re shooting questions back and forth about silly things like favorite colors and movies, until he asks, “Why’d you want to become an actuary?”
“It’s not that great of a story.” I shrug but he still looks like he’s hanging on my every word. “I was always good at math growing up, and when it was time to start thinking about colleges, I figured majoring in math would be best. But I had no idea what I could do with a math degree. As I started touring different schools, I met with the math departments. Applied Math and Pure Math didn’t pique my interest—they were too heavily focused on proofs and theory. But then, I met with the head of an Actuarial Science program. I was immediately drawn to it because I could see the real-life impact of it from the beginning, and it was more than just math. It combined statistics, math, finance, a bit of economics, and business. I knew then I was going to major in it and haven’t looked back since.”
“And how do you like it so far?”
“The exam process is annoying,” I say, and he laughs. There are two levels of certification for actuaries that are achieved through a series of exams. The first level requires seven exams and some online courses and is generally required as you move up in a company. The second level is an additional three exams and three courses and is generally optional. “But it’s been good so far—about what I expected. It just feels like a job right now though. I hope that one day I can find something I’m super passionate about to focus on. What about you?”
“My story is less interesting than yours.” He smiles at me as he holds open the door to the next boutique store we find. “I was a finance major because my dad always wanted me to follow in his footsteps and I always looked up to him. But when my parents got divorced my freshman year, I realized he wasn’t the hero I’d made him out to be in my head. I still got the finance degree but learned about actuarial science from a friend and started studying for the exams. My dad wasn’t happy when I turned down an internship at his company for an actuarial internship, but I think it was meant to be.”
My heart drops into my stomach. “I’m so sorry. Is he happy for you now?”
Warren takes a deep, shaking breath, and I get the feeling he doesn’t often talk about this. He glances over at me with sad eyes but turns away again to continue. “I don’t think he ever really got over it. We talk here and there but I don’t see him often—he still lives in New York. My mom moved back to Boston, where I grew up, and I go visit her as often as I can. She’s amazing, you’d love her.”
I look down, color flooding my cheeks at the off-handed comment. Has he been thinking about me meeting his mom? But I frown as I consider the rest of his story. I can’t imagine what it would feel like to have a parent who isn’t supportive. I’ve been blessed with parents who are there for me no matter what I choose to do.
Before I can say anything, he clears his throat and turns to look at me with a smile. “Hungry?”
I can see in his eyes that he doesn’t want to talk more about this, so I smile back and nod, hoping I’m adequately conveying how grateful I am that he shared that piece of his life with me.
After stopping for a quick lunch at a cute, little bistro downtown, we end up at a place called Buena Park. I grew up near here, yet I’ve never been here before. As we walk the winding paths through green grass with red maple trees spread across the park, I can only imagine how beautiful it must be in autumn, the green leaves replaced with bright oranges and reds as far as the eye can see. When I look closely, I think I see lights in the trees—they must be beautiful at night too.
Families flock around the man-made lake at the bottom of the hill—feeding ducks, having picnics, and strolling around as we are. But as we steadily climb in elevation, there’s less and less people. It turns into more of a hike than a stroll and I’m glad I opted for shorts and a tank-top instead of the sundress I almost put on.
“This is one of my favorite places in town,” he says as we reach the top of a hill with a viewpoint through the trees that overlooks the city.
From afar, the Triniti building—with its reverse tiering that my fear of heights hates—stands out with its unique design. I can appreciate it here on solid ground.
My fear of heights isn’t triggered when I’m standing on earth. It’s the manmade objects I don’t trust—like buildings, bridges, and airplanes. I shiver at the thought of them, even though my hair is sticking to my neck because of the sweltering heat.
“I can see why,” I say, trying to hide how winded I am from that hill.
When I look over, he’s looking at me with a huge smile. “It’s even more beautiful at night, with all of the lights. It’s like a sea of stars.”
“I’ll have to come back and check it out sometime.” I already wanted to come back before we got up here, but now it’s a must.
“How about Friday at eight?”
“What?” I breathe, my body going still. The hot air suddenly feels cold compared to the bright, warm feeling spreading through me.
Color floods his cheeks as he locks his hands behind his back and glances to the left. “There’s an incredible Italian restaurant just down this path, on top of the hill. I’d like to take you out on an official date.” He swallows and looks back to me. The mix of hope and fear in his eyes is so charming my chest constricts. “Don’t worry, there’s a parking lot over there so we won’t have to do this hike again,” he adds, and I smile. I’d do this hike anytime if there was a date with him at the end of it. “So . . . what do you think?”
“I think . . .” My smile grows. “That it’s about damn time.” I throw my arms around his neck. After a moment, he wraps his arms around my waist like it’s the most normal thing in the world and lifts me off the ground. “I’d love to go on a date with you, in case you didn’t catch that,” I whisper into his neck.
He chuckles and spins me around. I can feel his joy, and his relief, in that move. “Thanks for the clarification.”
After he puts me down, I ask, “So, if our first date is on Friday, then what does that make today?”
“Well, tonight is the completion of a deal we made months ago . . .” He looks at me, curious if I’ll know what he’s talking about.
My eyes widen. “I’m getting you drunk and you’re singing for me?”
He laughs as he nods. “Ali, Trent, and Sterling are meeting us for dinner and then we’re all going to karaoke, yes.”
“And until then?”
He shrugs. “That’s whatever we want it to be.”
I reach out and grab his hand, his fingers immediately lacing with mine. “Like this?”
He squeezes my hand, and a sweet smile is on his face. “This is perfect.”
* * *
“Am I seeing things or did you and Warren walk in here hand in hand?” Ali has me cornered in the girl’s bathroom at the burger place we decided on for dinner. We haven’t even gotten our food yet, but I didn’t fight when she made some excuse to drag me off here. I saw it in her eyes the moment we walked in—if we didn’t talk about this now, she’d have brought it up at the table in front of everyone and made it ten times more embarrassing. “Spill.”
“We’re going on a date on Friday,” I say, and she squeals. I’m trying to play it cool, but I’m practically bouncing with excitement.
“Finally!” she screams. A woman walks into the bathroom and shoots us a funny look having heard Ali’s yelling. We fight laughter as she walks into a stall, and Ali leans closer to me. “You better tell me everything.”
“I will.” I blush and try to calm her down before we walk back out to the table.
She isn’t subtle as she smirks at us from across the table, especially when she notices Warren’s hand reach for mine under the table after we’re done eating. I kick her under the table, but Sterling and Trent keep smiling at me like they know exactly what’s going on without needing any of her hints. I wonder if Warren has ever talked with them about me. They could have known he felt this way before today—like how Ali has known I’ve been into him since my first few weeks here.
Now that’s a strange thought. That the others have known more about our true feelings than we have this whole time. I tighten my hold on his hand and don’t ease up until we leave to head over to The Dizzy Acorn for karaoke.
The week after the quarterly meeting we came to check it out, thinking that it wouldn’t be anything special, but we’ve found ourselves back here multiple times a week since.
Warren and Sterling are the only ones from our group singing tonight—Warren to complete our deal, and Sterling because he’s the life of every party. As they flip through the song catalogue, Ali and I grab the first round of drinks. When I make it a point of putting Warren’s drink on my own tab, she gives me a suggestive look. I roll my eyes, but a smile grows on my lips.
“Did you decide yet?” I ask as we sit down and pass out the drinks.
Warrens sips his Blue Moon and winks at me over the bottle. “It’s a surprise. But Sterling’s ahead of me on the list.”
The bar isn’t as crowded as a Friday or Saturday night, but there’s more people here for this than usual. Eventually, Sterling’s name gets called and we all scream and cheer as he takes the stage and gets the whole crowd off their feet for a fun rendition of “Sweet Caroline” by Neil Diamond. The whole bar sings the backup vocals at the correct time, and he even gets off the small stage and weaves through the bar, putting an arm around strangers who are eagerly willing to sing a line into the mic with him. When he gets to us, we’re the loudest of all. By the end of the song, he’s back on stage, and he takes a bow to a roar of cheers.
Warren gulps, face pale, as his name is called. He seems nervous as he takes the stage and it’s so damn charming. Our eyes meet and I wink at him. He smiles and visibly relaxes.
His song starts and my jaw drops the second I see the name—there’s no way it’s just coincidence that he chose this song. But then, he starts singing and it’s not very good—like, at all—and I’m torn between laughing and crying. I feel the eyes of the rest of the table turn to me and I can’t keep a grin off my face.
“Is this—” Ali starts and I just nod.
Yes, it’s “Summer Love” by Justin Timberlake.
He’s singing a song about Summer, about love, and he’s looking right at me. I forget about the other eyes on me and I gravitate slowly towards the stage, caught in eyes that haven’t left mine since he began. With the spotlight on him, he’s glowing. He’s the sun—the center of the universe, of my universe. As he sings the last words, my smile is so big it’s probably taking up half my face. He steps down and walks right up to me. There’s shuffling around the bar as the next person gets called on stage, but I couldn’t tell you where it came from.
“So, was it worth the wait?” he breathes, eyes locked on mine. Nothing else, no one else matters to me right now.
“Well, the birds have better pitch, but they don’t sing for me.” A blush stains my cheeks just thinking of how sweet that was, how sweet he is. “So you definitely have them beat there.”
“If it were up to me, the whole world would sing just for you.” His hand lifts to gently brush across my cheek and tuck a lock of hair behind my ear. I stop breathing. Eyes wide, all I can do is stare at him in awe. “You make everything come alive. I thought I knew what blue was until I looked in your eyes. I thought I knew red until that perfect rosy color flushed your cheeks for the first time. Now, I think I was colorblind before I met you. And the warmth I feel when you smile that bright smile just for me, the flutter I get in my chest when you always have the perfect, clever comeback to my banter. Every feeling I had before I met you feels dull. You are everything, Miss Summers, and absolutely nothing else compares.”
A tear drops down my cheek, which he quickly wipes away. I shakily say, “Maybe I need to get you drunk more often if you’re going to start talking like this.”
He chuckles and runs his hand down my arm to lace our fingers together—goosebumps spring up across my body. “I’ve been a coward. I’ve felt this way since the first day I walked back to my desk to find you deep in concentration across the way. With the first words from your lips, I was a goner, but I’m only now telling you. And now that I’ve started, I don’t want to stop—so drunk, sober, or anything in-between, get used to hearing it.”
“I may be Miss Summers,” I say, squeezing his hand, “but Summer is nothing without the sun.” I can’t stop the blinding grin from growing on my face as I add, “ You’re my sun, Warren.”
His face breaks into one of those squinty-eyed smiles that makes my heart skip a beat, especially knowing I’m the one who put it there. “Would it be cliché to say, I can’t wait to fall in love with you?”
I smile, catching the reference, but feeling the need to speak the truth instead. “Would it be cliché to say I think I already am falling?”
“Think?” A smirk pulls at his lips and the look in his eyes has me clenching every muscle below my waist. “I guess I need to up my game.”
I raise an eyebrow in jest. “You’re the one who ‘can’t wait’ to fall in love, so I think it’s me who needs to step up my game.”
His arms wrap around my waist and pull me closer. My heart pounds in my chest as his lips move to my ear to whisper, “I was just quoting the song, but the truth is, I’m most definitely falling,” before pulling back to look at me.
Our faces are only inches away, lost deep in each other’s eyes, leaning closer until I can feel the gentle brush of his lips against mine, but they’re not close enough to fully touch.
“Seasons change, you know,” I whisper against his lips, looking into eyes full of light.
“But my feelings never will.” His words are so strong, so sure, so resolute. There’s not a drop of doubt in the pool of sunshine that’s occupying the space my heart is supposed to be. I believe in him. I believe in us.
His lips gently press to mine and they’re as warm as the sun. Liquid gold spreads through my body, flows through my veins. The longer his lips stay pressed to mine, the brighter it gets until I’m convinced that if I open my eyes I’ll be glowing.
I don’t know how long it takes to melt away, but I’m about to drop into a puddle of sunshine on the floor of the bar when one of his hands moves to grip my hip, the other moving to the nape of my neck to angle my head so he can deepen the kiss. With a gasp, my arms wrap around his neck, and I pull myself closer as my mouth opens to him. I let him kiss me deeply, explorative as we learn each other’s rhythm and synchronize into a beautiful harmony.
When we finally pull away, my body stays sealed to his. No more than a few inches are between us as we stare wide-eyed, and both breathe heavily.
“Now that,” I whisper, “was worth the wait.”
His eyebrows raise and a grin grows on his face. “Now that’s the reaction I was looking for.”
I playfully shove him and roll my eyes, but the smile on my face gives me away. “Don’t let your ego get too big over there, Mitchell.”
He laughs. “Do you need another drink? I’ll get us another round.”
“I thought I was supposed to be paying for the drinks tonight.”
He shrugs. “I did get that promotion; the money’s burning a hole in my pocket.”
The corners of my lips tug up into a smile. “Of course. That’s the only reason I’m into you anyways.”
Both our smiles grow until we’re laughing.
“I’ll be right back,” he says, before kissing my cheek and heading over to the bar.
When I get close to the table, Sterling whistles and the look on Ali’s and Trent’s face echo the sentiment. My cheeks heat but I haven’t been able to stop smiling since that kiss. That kiss. Warren just kissed me. I just kissed Warren. My mind keeps playing it on repeat; I don’t want to ever forget a single detail about this night.
“I thought we were just here for karaoke, not to watch the two of you suck each other’s faces off for ten minutes,” Sterling teases.
“It was not ten minutes,” I counter, only getting more red. Was it?
He only raises his eyebrows and presses his lips into a thin line. I press my hands to my cheeks in an attempt to cool the heat pooling there.
“What Sterling is trying to say,” Ali cuts him off with a pointed look, “is we’re happy for you guys.”
“Yeah, it’s about time,” Trent adds with a smile. “I was getting sick of hearing how much he liked you. Now he can tell you and spare me.”
So, he did talk to them about me. I want to ask what Warren told him, but after glancing back at Warren and finding him already smiling at me, I realize I’d rather wait to hear it all from Warren himself.
* * *
Warren kisses me goodnight on the skinny sidewalk outside of the brick-front of the bar. It’s not even past midnight, but it’s late enough that there’s not a car in sight and it gives us the illusion of being the last humans alive in the city. Maybe it’s that feeling, or the alcohol in our veins that keeps us sealed together long after we know we should pull apart—especially since Ali, Trent, and Sterling have made their presence increasingly obvious.
“All right, we get it,” Trent groans eventually, and it’s what finally breaks our spell. We both look over at him as he continues, “You’re both adults and can make decisions for yourselves, but the three of us have collectively decided that everyone will be heading back to their own apartments tonight.”
He looks at us with a glare that says just try to argue with me and see what happens . I almost laugh at how serious he is, as if he’s expecting us to argue. But Warren and I already made that same decision earlier in the night. We knew how tempting it’d be to explore this feeling. How easy it’d be to skip steps and end up in bed together at the end of tonight, especially with all the drinks. But we want to do this right—there’s no need to rush things.
A shiver runs down my spine as I recall his last words on the topic, “Besides, I want to be completely sober our first time, so I won’t forget a single glorious moment.” When I asked how he knew it’d be glorious, he said, “Because it’ll be with you.”
With his arms still around me, he can feel the shiver, and from the smile growing on his face, he knows what I’m remembering. It makes it harder to walk away.
“See you tomorrow.” Warren looks at Ali and Sterling before turning back to me. His hand runs across my cheek once more and his lips press to mine one last time. “Goodnight, Analise.”
“Goodnight, Warren.” I turn my gaze to Trent as Warren moves to stand with him. “And goodnight to you, mother hen.”
The corner of his mouth quirks up even though he still acts like he hates the nickname. Trent is always the one making sure we’re on time, following the rules, and generally not getting too rowdy—which is a big ask with this group. With a wave, our groups split, Warren and Trent heading northwest to their buildings, and Ali, Sterling, and I heading east.
The next morning, as I enter Kallia out of breath for the second day in a row, he’s already there with our coffees in hand and two blue tulips.