Chapter 22 #2
I wonder what that would feel like to know you were loved?
To have someone who wanted to build the kind of partnership Jackson and Nate have built, or to receive the kind of adoration that Beau reserves for Sierra, or to have the deep trust that Josh and Lauren share?
Is that what Sasha and I started—something that could develop into a lasting love?
Did I make a mistake in refusing to stay?
Suddenly I have such a longing for him that my response is physical, a shudder that runs through my whole body like the feelings are refusing to stay inside me.
Nate’s the one to notice, and he dips his eyebrows. “You okay?” he asks, and five other pairs of eyes turn toward me.
Oh yeah, just the only single girl here and, for the first time in my life, I’m not okay with that.
I want Sasha here with me. I want his hand resting possessively on my lower back, I want him mixing up a drink he knows I like, I want him growing close with my friends and their significant others, and I want to know that at the end of the night I’ll be going home with him—to have him to talk to on the drive home, to feel the sexual tension building as we approach my apartment, and then being able to rip his clothes off the minute we walk through the door.
I wonder if he’s still up? Should I call him?
“Petra,” Sierra says, “you’re scaring me.” Then to our friends: “Look how she’s just staring off into space like that.”
“Sorry, just lost in thought,” I say, shaking my head to clear away the mental images of Sasha and me naked in my apartment.
I exhale and attempt to relax my whole body as I set the glass down. It sort of works, until Jackson says, “This wouldn’t have anything to do with that super hot hockey player you were eye-fucking on national television, would it?”
I’m not sure if the heat I feel flooding into my face is embarrassment or anger. It’s unlike Jackson to call me out like this, but to be fair, I’d never think twice about saying something like that to one of my friends. It’s a taste of my own medicine, for sure.
“It’s probably time for us to start grilling that steak, right guys?” Nate is all smoothness as he steps back, cuing Josh and Beau to do the same.
The three of them are at the back door so quickly they almost forget the meat. While I glare at Jackson, Lauren takes the foil-wrapped serving platter from the fridge and brings it over to them.
“That was an asshole move,” I tell Jackson once the guys escape to the huge stone patio out back.
She smiles sweetly at me. “Sorry, but we don’t keep secrets from each other.”
“Like hell we don’t. One word—Marco.”
Sierra’s laugh bursts out of her mouth so quickly it surprises even her.
“Touché,” Jackson says with a small eye roll.
“Can we go back to you eye-fucking Alex Ivanov on national TV, please?” Lauren says. “Because it sure as hell didn’t look like you just happened to catch his eye. He was flat out staring at you, and who was that child you were holding? And why were you wearing his jersey?”
I share the same details I’d given Sierra over the phone two days ago. When I finish, there’s a moment where Lauren and Jackson are speechless, and Sierra looks nervously between them.
“Who even are you?” Lauren asks when I’m done. “What happened to hating kids?”
“And never spending more than one night with a guy? Now you’re married,” Sierra mutters.
I expect Jackson to chime in too, but when I glance at her, she’s just got this lost look like she’s sad or disappointed.
“I guess we all have secrets,” she said.
“I just didn’t expect that you’d have this person who was so important, so pivotal to your life, and never mention him once in all the years we’ve been friends. ”
“It was such a long time ago,” I say, trying not to think about the fact that Aleksandr is hardly the only secret I’ve kept from her and from everyone else. “I guess I didn’t feel like sharing the parts of me that were devastated when he left like that.”
“Why did he?” Lauren asks. “It sounds like you two were so close, and obviously attracted to each other, and you loved each other . . .” She trails off, trying to interpret his motivations. I’ve never been able to make sense of that, no matter how many times I thought it through.
“I don’t really know.”
“You didn’t ask?” Jackson asks. Her voice is incredulous. “That’s not like you either.”
“I feel unlike myself in a lot of ways lately,” I say, glancing over her head and out the kitchen window. All I see is the inky blue outline of the coniferous trees, barely lit by the light of the moon, lining the furthest extent of the patio.
“There has to be a reason,” Sierra says.
“You need to find out, obviously,” Jackson says, “because you can’t move forward with this relationship without knowing the truth.” Her words echo my own conclusions from my conversation with Sierra. “Maybe that’s what’s holding you back?”
Maybe. “What’s holding me back is the impossibility of it all. I’m moving to LA. He has to stay in New York. And the only way I can help him adopt Stella is to give up my dreams and move back to New York.”
“Would that really be giving up your dreams, though?” Jackson asks.
“I mean, you didn’t even want this TV gig in the first place.
You had to be convinced by your producer, and when we talked about it a few weeks ago, you still seemed kind of hesitant.
Is this opportunity really worth giving up on a relationship that could be forever? ”
“Why does she have to give up on it?” Sierra asks Jackson.
“Obviously the show is important to her now, even if she was hesitant to start with.” She turns toward me.
“Why can’t you just take these couple months to film your show, see where the relationship goes, and figure out where to go once filming is done? ”
“How in the world would I make a long-distance relationship work in the meantime?” I ask.
“Jackson and Nate did it,” Lauren reminds me. “After they got back together, he was still in Europe for a few months before he came back to Blackstone.”
“It was hard,” Jackson says, “but it wasn’t impossible. When you have something worth fighting for, Petra, you fight. You don’t walk away. Is this worth fighting for?”
I chew my lips between my teeth to hold in the Yes! that wants to burst out. “I think so,” I finally say.
“Then fight, girl,” Sierra says. “Be unapologetically you. Be a badass and in love. The two aren’t mutually exclusive.”
“To being a badass in love,” Jackson says, raising her glass. We all follow suit, and I smile, relief flooding through me because it all feels more possible now.
Dinner is delicious and over too quickly.
Because Sierra and Beau’s relationship is so new, and Jackson and Nate didn’t live here when Sierra and Beau got together, this is the first time my girlfriends and I have hung out with their significant others all together as a group.
That sense of hope that was ignited with our toast earlier has me wishing even more that someday Sasha can be a part of this.
I think he’d like my friends and get along with their men.
“I’m headed to Mammoth next month,” Josh says in response to a question Nate asks him about skiing.
The two have never known each other very well since Josh’s departure from the National Ski Team is what opened a spot for Nate.
Like nearly all the relationships stitched together around this table, Jackson is the common thread.
Lauren pushes her chair back so abruptly that all six pairs of eyes swing toward her. “I’m going to grab some more wine,” she says, and she turns to head into the kitchen.
I’m not quite sure what I saw in her eyes as she turned away, but it has me worried. “I’ll help her,” I tell my friends before following Lauren into the kitchen.
I find her squatting so she’s sitting on her heels, staring at the unopened wine fridge. Her forehead is resting against the glass door, and I watch as her ribcage expands and contracts with a few deep breaths.
Her head whips up to look over her shoulder as I approach, then she sighs with visible relief before saying, “Oh, it’s you.”
“Who did you think it would be?” I ask.
“I don’t know, but I’m glad it’s you.” Her words are a shock. Out of all my friends, I have the least in common with Lauren and I don’t know her quite as well as I know Jackson and Sierra. We’re friends, but I don’t know that we would ever have been close if it hadn’t been for Jackson.
“What’s going on?” I ask as I reach my hand out and pull her up to a standing position.
“Nothing.” She pauses. “I mean, it just gets lonely, you know? I’m home all the time with the twins.
Josh is retired from skiing but still acts like it’s his job to travel to every ski resort on the planet.
He’s gone on some big trip at least once a month, and I’m stuck here.
I don’t have any family here, and even though Josh’s parents are here, his mom is like the queen of the ice queens, you know? ”
I nod, even though I’ve never met Josh’s mom. This is not the first time Lauren has mentioned her, and she sounds quite difficult. Instead of being the doting grandmother Lauren had hoped for, her mother-in-law is hypercritical of Lauren as a mom.
“And now that Jackson and Sierra have both moved away,” she continues, “and you’re going to LA for a few months . . . I just don’t have anyone now except for Josh.”
“I’m sorry, Lauren,” I say.