Chapter 28
Chapter twenty-eight
EMMA EASTON
Last night has been in the background of my mind all day. The way Jude made love to me on the beach. How he actually slept, peacefully, his arm around my waist. It was beautiful and peaceful.
I keep replaying it in my mind as I sit across from Dr. Cassie at our usual lunchtime booth at the sandwich shop next door. She’s scrolling through her iPad, reviewing notes from a morning full of clients we share—hers first, then mine, in that natural rhythm we’ve built.
“Your teen from yesterday?” she says without looking up. “She came in this morning. Told me she wants to paint next session. That’s all you.”
I smile, drinking my coffee. “She’s opening up. It’s slow, but she’s getting there.”
Cassie finally glances up, offering one of her bright, grounding smiles. I’ve always admired how easily she balances clinical clarity with warmth. Working with her has been the best decision I’ve ever made—besides Jude.
My phone buzzes on the table. I already know it’s him before I look.
JUDE
Thinking about you. I’m out at a meeting, back later. I love you.
A warm, dizzy flutter fills my chest. He stayed.
After everything, he stayed. But a tiny strand of guilt winds around the feeling.
I manipulated him with sex. I didn’t mean to, not really, but I know what I did.
I knew he was slipping away. He even told me it was okay, that he wanted me.
It still doesn’t sit right. I kind of still feel like Adriana.
Cassie watches me soften over the message, eyes narrowing knowingly. “Is that boy on your mind?”
I exhale, nodding. I tell her pretty much everything going on in my life. She’s practically my therapist. “Yeah.”
“Is it going well?”
“Yes,” I say, and it’s mostly true. “We’re...figuring things out.”
She gives me a gentle look. “Wonderful. You deserve good things, Emma. You’re a kind person. This world can be dark, as we’ve seen through our patients. So if you can find a sliver of light in that dark, you hold on tight.”
I smile. If only she knew.
The day rolls on between sessions, notes, and more coffee. Normal things. By the time I get home, I’m finally ready to settle into the evening. I curl up on my couch and text him:
What are we doing tonight? Want to come over? Maybe hang with Heather and Micah?
I wait, watching the three dots pulse on my screen. Then—
JUDE
We’re not doing anything tonight. I’m fine.
That’s it. There’s no softness or warmth. None of the sweetness from earlier. I swallow the prick of worry rising in my throat. Something feels off...but I push it down and start typing anyway:
Okay. Want to come to dinner instead? Heather’s craving Italian.
I hit send.
Heather’s already rifling through my pantry when I come down the hall, humming off-key to the music playing from the tiny speaker on the counter. She glances up as I grab my coat.
“Did he say yes?” she asks, hopeful.
I force a smile, wincing at my sore legs from our workout. “He said they’re not doing anything. So...maybe. I told him the time and place.”
She pauses mid-search, squinting at me. “That sounded like a very un-yes yes.”
I shrug, checking my phone for the fifth time in three minutes. “He’s just tired. He had a meeting earlier.”
She watches me for a beat longer. “Okay. Well, Italian heals all. And if not, at least we’ll go carbs.”
“It’s the best after a sweat-sesh at the gym, for sure,” I giggle. “Also, are you looking for some more gummy worms?”
She scrunches her face. “Guilty.”
I roll my eyes and get the bag for her.
The moment we step into the warm, dimly lit Italian place, everything smells like garlic, butter, and wine.
It’s cozy, loud, full of conversation and clinking glasses.
We slide into a booth, Heather settling across from me.
Our waiter stops by to drop a carafe of water.
My phone stays face-up beside my glass, and before I can even really glance at the menu, it vibrates.
JUDE
Parking.
Relief floods me. “They’re here.”
Heather beams. “Thank goodness. I brought my sleepover bag for a reason.” She winks mischievously. “Micah is incredible, my god.”
I snort, turning towards the front. The door swings open, and I look up to see both of them breeze inside.
Jude, with his hoodie up, tousled black hair falling just enough to shadow his hazel eyes, and Micah, with messy shoulder-length blonde hair, grinning.
My stomach flips at the sight of them together, both relaxed and happy.
Jude keeps his hood pulled low, careful to shield himself from the busy restaurant, but I can tell he’s smiling beneath it. Micah waves at me, his grin bright enough to make his entire face light up.
I wave them over to the private corner booth I requested, tucked away from anyone who might walk by. Jude slides in beside me, resting an arm along the back of the seat, while Micah drops in next to Heather.
“I’m sorry for that text earlier,” Jude murmurs, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “Bland as hell. Didn’t mean to…”
I catch the glance he throws at Micah as he says it, a flicker of something I can’t catch in his eyes.
My curiosity piques, but I don’t press. I can inquire later.
“I forgive you,” I whisper, sliding my hand onto his knee.
Heat spreads through me at the touch. It’s like I’m a girl with a crush all over again.
He presses his thumb gently over mine, then leans down to kiss the top of my head.
He looks so cute with his hood up. Like the boy I met so many years ago.
Heather and Micah are already flirting across the table, trading smirks and light teasing.
Micah throws his arm around her shoulders, tugging her close, and she melts into him with a laugh.
It makes me smile to see my girl happy like this.
Although, I hate to admit that it almost seems too good to be true with them. I know she feels that, too.
The server arrives, and we place our orders. Jude rests his hand back on my thigh once more, and I suddenly want to snuggle into him. Especially after remembering how he loved me last night. He catches my eye and gives me a tiny, almost secretive grin.
“So,” he murmurs, low enough that only I hear, “how was your day at work?”
I lean back a little, smiling. “Actually...really good. One of my clients is making real progress. I can finally see her opening up, trusting me. It feels...amazing.”
He squeezes my thigh gently, pride shining through those beautiful eyes. “That’s incredible, Emma. I’m so proud of you.”
I flush, heart squeezing tight at the way he looks at me. “Thanks,” I smile.
He shifts, taking a deep breath. “Hey, since it’s Thursday, how do you guys feel about spending the night at our place? Just one more day in the week. We can order a big dessert and bring it back. I checked their menu and saw something that I cannot stop thinking about now.”
Heather practically squeals, and Micah nods eagerly. “Yes!”
I laugh, glancing at Jude. “Sounds perfect. I’ll text Mrs. Kent to feed Nova. I gave her a head’s up.”
He leans closer to me, then presses a quick kiss to my temple. “Can’t wait, baby.”
Heather and I follow the boys all the way back to their place, laughing as we speed-walk up the stairs because Micah ordered an entire Italian chocolate cake for pickup like it was nothing.
Jude unlocks the door and immediately asks, “You guys wanna go for a night ride? Micah can drop the cake inside real quick.”
Heather claps. “Yes. Absolutely yes. Cake after.”
I’m already smiling. “Let’s do it.”
We pile into Jude’s Audi. I take the passenger seat; Heather and Micah sprawl out in the back.
Jude pulls onto the coastal highway and rolls the windows all the way down, letting the salty air sweep through the car.
The night is surprisingly warm and clear.
I tilt my face toward the wind and breathe in. I could never get tired of that smell.
God, Jude really has this car. This gorgeous, ridiculous, stupidly expensive car. Sometimes I wonder how much money he actually has...but I don’t ask.
Micah pulls out a blunt. “As promised,” he announces.
Heather gasps and grabs it. “Oh my god, Emma, we haven’t smoked since college.”
“That’s because we had exams,” I say, laughing, already accepting the blunt when she passes it forward.
“I’m a respected therapist now. I have a license to protect.
” I pause, glancing over at Jude. He gives me a soft smile.
I’m hesitant to do this or contribute in any way to them partaking in drug use.
But they’re going to do it either way it seems. So is Heather’s dumb ass.
Heather snorts, snapping me back from my thoughts. “You’ll be fine. We’re responsible people.”
Responsible is absolutely not the word I would use for Micah or Jude, but the weed hits my lungs anyway. I haven’t smoked in so long that I start coughing. Micah throws a water bottle up at me.
“Thank you,” I choke out with a laugh. And then I glance to the left.
The full moon streams in through the window, lighting Jude’s cheekbones in silver. His hood is down now, hair tousled by the wind, jaw set as he focuses on the road. One hand on the wheel, the other resting on my thigh. His thumb makes slow, lazy circles, and the warmth goes straight to my chest.
He puts a playlist on, and the intro of MGK’s Roll The Windows Up fills the car. I grin so hard my cheeks hurt. “Holy shit, this song,” I laugh.
Heather and Micah explode instantly, rapping the opening lines, dancing in the backseat like two unhinged teenagers. Jude glances at them through the mirror and shakes his head, smiling. The sight is so pure and stupid that it makes me warm.
I join in, leaning against my door, smoke curling out as I sing. Jude raps along, and it makes me giggle because he’s actually good. This musically talented human. Any genre, I swear.