Chapter 28 #2
Unfazed by my abrupt interjection, he pulls his phone from his pocket and shows me the family locator app. “He would’ve waited or pulled over.” A tiny picture of Sam hovers over a dot labeled Waffle House not far from us. “See? They’re fine. He’s probably on his second plate smothered and covered.”
There’s that calm problem-solving.
So. Hot.
He could’ve been mad, right? Annoyed that I’m worried about Sam when I’m with him? But he’s not. He loves that I care about Sam making it home safely. I can see it all over his perfect face.
“Would that ever bother you?”
Why did I ask that?
“What? Worrying about Sam? Are you asking if I’m jealous?
” He’s amused at first until he remembers what I’m used to.
He knows. “Lu, I’ve been jealous out of my mind for a year, but I know you.
I trust you, Annie, and those two idiots more than anyone else on the planet.
And when you’re with Sam, I know you’re both safe.
” He softens. “I turned on your location Monday night during the storm, when you fell asleep. I was worried about your car. And about you. I thought you’d get an alert and think it was funny, but you didn’t seem to notice.
I should apologize, but I’m not actually sorry. ” He smirks.
“It’s okay. No one’s ever cared that much.”
“To stalk you? I hope not. I was afraid you would think it was the kind of thing Nathan would do.”
“He likes control, not responsibility.”
Jude visibly flinches at that statement.
“I was crawling out of my skin when I saw you were at his house yesterday.” He takes a breath, and the worry I caused flashes in his eyes.
“That night you stayed in my room after I found you crying almost broke me. Leaving it alone—not going after him—it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but I couldn’t leave you.
We’re still going to talk about what happened. Soon.”
I nod. “I’m sorry. I should’ve thought about how it affected you.”
“Doesn’t matter. Always come to me.”
He’s quiet for a minute, undoubtedly beating himself up for not acting on his feelings—possibly keeping me from dating Nathan in the first place—but maybe we weren’t ready.
“I said ‘I’m sorry’ again. Do you need to shut me up?”
His features relax with a soft, Southern “Yes, ma’am.”
I lift my face, and he kisses me gently.
I took Jude’s friendship as rejection. I thought it was the opposite of romantic interest, but I get it now.
Friendship isn’t the opposite of romance. It’s the foundation.
It’s everything.
Jude tried to build a solid foundation. I was impatient. I went for instant gratification—all or nothing. That’s how I got sucked into Nathan’s lies.
I chose someone else.
He was moving with caution. He didn’t do anything wrong.
I put my hand on his cheek. “We’re fixing it.”
He nods. “I said we’re not overthinking this, but I don’t want to rush you. You just got out of a toxic relationship. I understand if you need time to breathe.”
“That wasn’t a relationship. That was an obligation I didn’t know how to escape. I breathe better with you.”
He continues to rub a hand over my arm, eventually reaching my hand and bringing it to his lips. “I know you told me to lead, but if I get too bossy, it’s your job to put me in my place.”
“I like you bossy. Your place is right here.” I close the inch between us to steal a kiss.
“Actually, I think it’s right here.” He teases kisses below my ear.
Ohh, yep. That spot has his name all over it.
I sigh contentedly. “Right again.”
“I should’ve gone with my gut a year ago, but I didn’t want you to feel like a rebound.
Then I worried I was too much older and having access to your house might be weird.
I wanted to be sure we were on the same page.
I was almost there, but I kept thinking of more reasons I wouldn’t be good for you.
The mixed signals were all on me. That was my fault. ”
“No, it wasn’t all you. But New Year’s Eve?” I stare into his eyes, loving that I no longer feel the need to break contact.
“I messed up,” he confesses, eyes full of regret.
“Did, um …” I glance away, nervous to ask what I want to know.
“Ask me anything.”
I nod, and he kisses me softly again.
“Did Ashley call you on New Year’s Eve? When you walked outside?”
“Yes,” he confirms. “I stepped outside to be sure it wasn’t a family emergency.
As soon as she said breaking up with her was a mistake, I told her I was sorry she felt that way but it was over.
We broke up in August, but she’d called a few times and showed up twice.
I knew it was time to cut her off for good, so I blocked her number and went back inside. ”
“You didn’t have to tell me that.” I flash back to that flirty basketball game that got a little awkward when she showed up and watched.
He was polite, but it was clear there was nothing romantic even then.
That must’ve been late September or early October.
I never saw hide nor hair of her ever again.
“I need you to know.” He tips up my chin.
“In the past, I felt guilty if she was upset, so I had a habit of taking her back. But I wasn’t in love with her.
Maybe ever.” He’s being so honest. I think he really does understand why I was stuck.
“But New Year’s Eve … I couldn’t stop looking at you.
Singing and cooking, building a snowman with Sam and Annie even though you hate being cold. ”
“Can’t stand it.”
“I liked warming you up,” he says with a sly grin.
“I didn’t hate that part,” I admit, remembering the first time we sat close together and shared a blanket.
“You didn’t whine when Jace pelted you with snow.
You got even. Then Sam took up the whole couch to force you closer to me.
Your hair was all staticky, and your nose was pink from the cold.
Then she called ten minutes before midnight, and it rattled me.
Suddenly it felt selfish to kiss you. I felt old, like I had too much baggage.
I couldn’t kiss you right after hanging up with her.
You were so damn cute in those penguin pajamas.
You deserved all my attention with no distractions if I was going to do that.
She got in my head, and I fumbled at the goal line. I’m sorry.”
“Man, I hate football.” I sigh.
His laugh is low and sexy as he plays with a strand of my wild hair, listening intently and answering anything I want to know.
I drop his gaze for a beat. “When you kissed my head, I assumed that’s how you felt about me. I just figured you didn’t want that kind of relationship with me.”
He tucks the hair behind my ear and leans in to whisper, knowing it makes my pulse race.
“Don’t think for one second I didn’t want to kiss you for real. I’ve had eight months to relive that mistake. It has tortured me every single day.”
“Jude?”
“Hmm?”
“Do you have any doubts?” I ask.
“About us?”
I nod.
“No,” he responds soberly. “I just want to do everything right. I couldn’t have done a worse job of protecting you or telling you how I feel. I won’t ever fail you like that again. I promise.”
I know him well enough to recognize his self-critical tendencies. He’ll take responsibility for things that are beyond his control, but he’ll relax once he feels like he’s done all he can.
“You’ve never failed me,” I say. “And you can ask me anything too.”
“Can I start with a confession?” His voice doesn’t hold the same level of mischief I’d expect from those words.
“Are you confessing why you showed up here looking like the hottest freaking lawyer-spy-CEO I’ve ever seen?”
He shakes his head in mock disappointment. “It’s a shame pretty’s not your type.”
“Oh, it is now.”
His smirk morphs into a full blinding smile right before he tosses me on my back and kisses me senseless.
We listen to the rain while we whisper and kiss in the dark, relishing the freedom to embrace feelings we kept locked away.
“We’re going to be in so much trouble. How long have we been here?” I ask, thoroughly wedged between his chest and the back sofa cushions.
“Not that long. We’re making up for lost time.”
I wiggle out of my cocoon, urging him to sit up. His phone has buzzed a few times. People must be looking for us. I offer him Sam’s dry clothes from my backpack when I realize what I don’t have.
“Jude, I think Sam has my phone.”
“He does. And my jacket too. He said he’d meet us tonight or tomorrow to give it back.”
He hands me his phone to answer Sam myself, and I see more of their message thread. Sam sent a picture of me leaning over the porch railing at my mom’s house, the wind blowing my hair just enough to show the tattoo with the music notes around our favorite lyric.
Then I read Jude’s reply.
“She’s the one who makes the sad songs better. Man, I love her.”
It’s not like we’ve never said it. I’m a little mad at Sam for insisting we say “I love you” when our feelings were blurry.
I blink away tears again while I ask Sam to message Liza and tell her to let Mom know I’m with Jude since I don’t know when I’ll be home.
We’ll have to walk all the way back to the parking lot, and the storm seems to be picking up again.
Before I can hand his phone back, it buzzes with another message. At the same time Jude says, “About that confession …”
I glance back to his phone and see the message is from Carla.
“We’re leaving for the night, but if you’re too tired to drive, just stay. The couch pulls out, and there are blankets in the closet. Overnight supplies in the bathroom. I trust you’ll be a gentleman. Congrats. She’s perfect for you.”
“You set me up.” I want to be appalled, but I’m kind of impressed.
“Nothing was premeditated. I just didn’t mention Carla’s my cousin. Annnnd I was the guy who backed out on the gig. I did tell Sam to let Carla keep his phone so she could see my location. I called and told him to stall when I was looking for somewhere to park. I barely made it.”
I still can’t believe he rushed over here to see me. “Because you were at a hot suit model convention?”
Jude’s smirk tells me he’s both pleased and surprised by my reaction. “If I’d known how much you’d like it, I would’ve worn a suit every day.”
“It’s a fantasy I didn’t know I had.” I shiver as my thoughts dip into restraining-order territory. “Suddenly, I want to play dress up and see what else you look pretty in.”
I am completely filterless. It feels so good to say what I’m thinking.
“You’re my fantasy.” He tickles me until I squeal. “I’ll wear whatever you want as long as I get to see this outfit again. I want to see more of that tattoo.”
“That’s on my list for you too.” I smile at him, breathless from laughing and no longer holding back anything I want to say. “Were you at a GQ photo shoot for undercover rock stars?”
“Close. The broker’s license training starts Monday. I was at a welcome session trying not to go into cardiac arrest when Sam sent that picture of you. That would’ve been hard to explain, Punk.”
My happy little balloon begins to deflate.
He said that training would last several weeks. I just got him. I just got us. Of course, something would immediately come between us.
“The classes are here? In Nashville?” I force a tight smile, trying not to sound crushed.
But I am.
“It’ll be okay. I promise.” He pats my hip. “Go change, and we’ll talk.”