21. CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Wes
“ R emind me what exactly it is we’re doing again?” I call out to Joss through her closed bedroom door.
“Jaz has a date,” she calls back, and I sigh. I know this part. The part I’m fuzzy on is where Joss and I come in.
“Yes, that I get. What are we doing?”
“Well, Jaz really likes this guy, and he suggested a double date with a couple of his friends, but they had to pull out last-minute. So Jaz, in a moment of sheer stupidity, suggested that we go instead.”
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t the second couple on a double date usually, you know, a couple?”
She finally walks out of her room in a pair of tan suede leggings and a cream sweater that drapes off her shoulder. There’s something in the way it hangs, like if I gave it a little tug I could see more of her— all of her.
“You’re gorgeous.” I can’t stop the words, though they come out a bit breathless.
My eyes rake over her in a way that is decidedly not friendly. When I finally drag my eyes to her face, her cheeks are flushed in that way I love, and the grey of her eyes looks darker.
“Thank you.” Her eyelashes flutter as she glances away. “And to answer your question, yes, usually that is how it works, but she panicked and we were the first people she thought of.”
Her gaze comes back to me in a slow perusal. I see myself through her eyes—my dark jeans and button-down shirt that ironically matches the color of her sweater. I don’t have a lot of dressy clothes. I anticipated a lot of surfing and flying and not much else on my schedule this year. When Joss told me we were going out tonight and that I needed to dress up, I scrambled for over an hour. Based on the look in Joss’s eyes though, I didn’t do too bad. I follow her throat as it bobs with a swallow before she speaks again.
“Are you okay with this? I didn’t know how to tell her no.”
She’s chewing her lip nervously. Is she really worried that I wouldn’t want to spend the evening with her, especially when she’s looking like that? I step toward her and pull her lip free with my thumb, then let it linger on her chin.
“Grey, seriously, it’s fine. What’s the plan?”
She’s flustered by my touch, and as much as I love it, I know I need to tread carefully. I take a step back, putting some distance between us before I do something stupid like kiss her .
We’re always a little flirtatious these days, but the last thing I want to do is anything that might drive Joss away or scare her off. We’ve been honest with each other since the beginning about our different stances on relationships. That hasn’t changed… as far as she knows.
For me, there’s been a shift these last few weeks, in more ways than one. Since the night at Breck and Talia’s, I’ve felt lighter. I’ve caught myself a dozen times daydreaming about waking up next to someone, sharing about my day, fingers entwined with another’s. Laughing with someone over the little things.
And not just someone. Joss.
It’s only Joss I see when I consider this possibility. But how can I pursue something with her when my time here is destined to run out? It would only end up hurting us both.
Joss’s voice pulls me out of my head. “Jaz’s date, Paul, got tickets to whatever show they have at the Opera House tonight—I think she said it was An American in Paris .” There’s a glimmer of excitement in her eyes. “And a reservation for dinner at Aria beforehand.”
“Wow, fancy. No wonder you asked me to dress up. So are we…” I trail off, wondering how to put this in a way that won’t freak her out. “Are we, like, a couple for the night?”
Her eyes dart away. “We don’t have to act any differently. No need to make it weird.”
“Make it weird?” My head tilts to the side, eyebrows raised.
“We don’t have to kiss or anything. We just act like us, and I’m sure we’ll be fine.”
“Okay. No kissing, got it. Time to go? ”
It’s good to know, but damn, I wish that wasn’t her hard and fast line. I wouldn’t mind having an excuse to get my mouth on hers. One where there aren’t expectations. The mouth in question is worrying that bottom lip again, and I don’t think she realizes what the action does to me.
“Yeah. Yeah, let’s go.” She looks me over one more time, eyes burning a trail down my body, before she grabs her coat. “You look nice too. I meant to say that before.”
She doesn’t quite meet my eye and the color in her cheeks deepens again. Tonight is going to be fun.
The restaurant is situated to have a gorgeous view of both the Harbour Bridge and the Opera House. I swallow and smooth down my shirt. This is the fanciest restaurant I've been to in a long time. My usually confident demeanor wavers, wondering if they’re going to let me inside in my jeans. What if I ruin this night for everyone? Not to mention this is my one chance at a date, no matter how real, with Joss.
The hostess doesn’t bat an eye at my attire, and I breathe a little easier. We’ve beat Jaz and her date here, so I lead Joss to the bar, my hand coasting down her back to rest at her hip before pulling out a stool for her.
“Drink of choice when you’re out at a bar?” I ask. This feels like something I should know, but seeing as most of our nights include pizza and beer or takeout and wine, this is all new terrain.
“Gin usually. G&Ts are my go-to, unless there’s something more fun on the menu.” She picks up the cocktail menu, smokey eyes scanning the options. A smile breaks across her face as her finger stops on a blueberry gin martini. “That’s the one for tonight. ”
“It’s on me.” I wave the bartender over and order her drink, along with a scotch—neat—for myself. At some point during my naval career, I became a scotch man, though I don’t usually buy it to drink at home. When he returns with our drinks, we clink our glasses together, eyes holding over the rims.
A little hum slips from Joss’s mouth, her eyes fluttering closed, clearly enjoying the taste. She does a little shimmy with her shoulders, which I take to mean she approves. I’ve seen her do this with food too, and it never fails to make me smile. She catches me staring and, in true Joss fashion, crimson floods her cheeks. I love how reactive she is to my attention.
“Joss!” The voice that calls out is distinctively Jaz as it carries across the bar.
She has her hand linked with a tall man in a navy-blue suit. His skin is a richer, darker shade of brown compared to hers. The smile stretched across her face indicates how into this guy she is.
She pulls Joss into a hug, releasing her date’s hand in the process. They hug and squeal their hellos, as if we didn’t see her for coffee after our surf this morning.
“Hi. I’m Wes.” I introduce myself to her date, chuckling over the spectacle the girls are making.
He extends a well-manicured hand. “Paul. I’m glad you two could join us. I’d have hated to see these tickets go to waste.”
Joss extricates herself from Jaz and the rest of the hellos go by in a blur of hugs and handshakes. I settle my bar tab right before our name is called, and we follow a waitress to a table in front of floor-to-ceiling windows. The view is stunning. Lights dance on the surface of the harbour, and the reflection of its iconic bridge against the water is mesmerizing. The water is so smooth you can almost imagine there being an entire city sprawled underneath.
My hand settles low on Joss’s back again while I pull out her chair. There’s the smallest shiver that spreads across her skin at my touch before she takes her seat. I claim the chair next to her, our thighs rubbing beneath the table and shoulders bumping as we get settled. I relax in my seat, throwing an arm around the back of her chair. That ever-present electricity hums to life at our proximity.
I take in the couple cozied up across from us as we chat and look at the menu. Paul rotates between holding Jaz’s hand under the table and running a hand along the nape of her neck, brushing her russet curls over one shoulder tenderly. It warms me to know Jaz has someone so attentive at her side.
The pair orders a round of drinks a few minutes after we’re seated, then we get straight into the getting to know you s.
“Do you like sports, Wes?” Paul asks, glancing sidelong at Jaz—who rolls her eyes.
“Don’t let him get started, Wes, or he will talk your ear off about cricket all night.”
I laugh but humor Paul. “I was really into hockey in high school and still keep up with how the Sharks are doing when I can. Unfortunately, I doubt they’ll get much coverage here.”
We only bore the girls with sports talk for a few minutes before Jaz pivots the conversation to travel, something we all seem to have in common.
“Joss spent most of our time in the Maldives in the water—on one board or another—while I spent most of my time in a hammock or on the beach with my book and a drink. ”
“It’s not my fault you’re athletically inept,” Joss jokes.
“Harsh. I went snorkeling, remember?” Jaz says in her own defense.
“Yeah, because you refused to scuba with me.” Joss’s eye roll sends the two of them into a fit of giggles, leaving Paul and I to exchange a look of bewilderment.
A scuba story of my own pops into my head. “I went scuba diving in Thailand and my buddy Bobby saw a leopard shark. I swear he nearly crapped himself.” I chuckle, along with the others, surprised at the ease I feel talking about Bobby. “I missed it, too interested in following a little blue fish through some coral. But when he finally got my attention, he was holding his hand up in front of his face like a fin, eyes bugging out of his head.”
I feel a light squeeze above my knee. Joss’s way to signal her support, to show me she’s proud I’m taking the steps to move forward—to talk about him again.
“How did you two meet?” Paul questions, looking between us.
“You want to take this one, Grey?” My laugh starts low in my belly, my shoulders shaking a bit as the vivid memories chase me down.
Joss’s eyes dance with laughter too, and I remember her attempted retelling of this story with Jaz that first day at Harbour Grounds. She elbows me in the ribs, and I catch her arm, sliding my fingers down until they lace with hers. The look in her eye turns warmer, heated.
“Fine, but you know I’ll be sure to portray you in the worst possible light, right? ”
“Oh, I would expect nothing less.” I wink at her, and her perfect smile spreads wide across her face.
She tells the story from the airplane, ensuring that my falling on her and groping her are front and center in the narrative. She remembers more details than I would have expected, like how I stumbled through trying to talk to her. She gets some good laughs from the table at my expense, but I don’t mind.
When she gets to the part where she chased me down in the airport, she pauses, a question in her eyes. “What were you thinking when you saw me coming after you?”
Huh, not the question I was expecting. How have we never talked about this?
“I guess I couldn’t quite believe my eyes. I’d watched for a sign from you as I made my way off the plane, hoping you’d give me one more look, but you didn’t. I assumed I’d never see you again. Then, there you were, calling my name, face painted with that beautiful flush”—I run my thumb across her cheek, eliciting a small gasp—“and I thought I must be hallucinating.”
This next part, if I share it, will lay more of me bare than I’ve ever given her, more than she’s likely ready for. But this could be the perfect chance to say these things, without the pressure of it all being “real.”
“Looking at you standing there, my name having just slipped from your lips…” At the word, I swipe my thumb across hers. “My only real thought was mine .”
Mine. Mine. Mine mine mine.
I remember the way my heart beat faster seeing her there, how it jolted when that single word flitted through my mind. It was possessive, and I couldn’t understand why on earth I had thought it—about a complete stranger, no less. But there’s always been something about Joss, and something in me knew it wanted her from the start.
I don’t look away, just letting the word hang heavily between us. I wish I could read her mind because I sure as hell can’t read her expression. I don’t think she was expecting the earnestness—neither was Jaz if the look on her face tells me anything. It’s softer, almost knowing, like she’s in on some secret. I’d love it if she’d explain it to me, because I feel like I’m adrift after that confession, and I need something to pull me back to shore.
Joss glances away finally to look at Jaz, jutting her thumb my way.
“Knew it. He was a possessive caveman from day one.”
Paul laughs and runs a hand down Jaz’s arm, drawing her attention away from whatever look she was exchanging with Joss. I feel Joss trail her gaze from where our hands are intertwined between us, up the length of my body, until she reaches my face. My breath hitches at the way her lips part and her tongue runs across them.
Jaz and Paul are talking now, giving us a moment. The heat of Joss’s body infiltrates my space as she leans close. Is she…?
She brings her mouth close to my ear. A small shiver of disappointment runs through me when I realize she’s not going to kiss me. But then she whispers words that are just for me. “I don’t think I would have chased you down if you were anybody else. I think part of me felt like you were mine too.”
I can’t find enough air in the space between us, and I don’t know how to respond. I pull back just enough for our eyes to catch and hold, more being said in the silence than we’re ready to say out loud. Trying to silently scream across the inches between us that this doesn’t feel fake.
Jaz shatters the moment when she asks Paul what he first thought when he saw her at Harbour Grounds, and we launch into more easy banter as we make our way through our meals.
By the time dessert rolls around, I’m stuffed. Paul must be feeling the same way as he stretches and groans across from me. “We have about half an hour before we need to be at the Opera House. What do you say we walk off that dessert and stroll through the Botanic Gardens for a bit?”
It sounds perfect to me, but I look to Joss for confirmation. She’s the one in heels. She gives a lazy nod, and I can’t help but lift my hand to swipe a tendril of hair behind her ear.
We aren’t acting any differently than we usually do, but in the context of this double date and the restaurant’s romantic atmosphere, every touch feels like more. Every look feels like more. There’s so much more to be had with Joss, and I can’t decide whether that exhilarates or terrifies me.
The walk to the gardens doesn’t take long, and though I’ve been in the city for a few months now, I haven’t made my way down here yet. I’m disappointed to see that the bats that used to cling to the trees in droves are gone now.
When I was here in college, you’d walk through these trees during the day and they’d be completely black from all the bats that covered the branches. At night you’d hear them swooping around and see them as they flew through the skies. It was majestic. When I ask about them, Paul tells me they were relocated shortly after I graduated .
I reach for Joss’s hand as we continue our walk, bringing her closer, unable to keep from touching her in some way. She looks up at me, grey eyes shining bright under dark lashes. Her beauty stops me in my tracks. Stops my heart too. The lights in the garden are soft, meaning that most of what I see of her face is thanks to the glow from the moon above us.
There’s a moment when I almost just say “fuck it” and kiss her, and a similar one in which I see that same desire mirrored on her face. But then she turns to keep walking, dragging me behind her, and it’s gone.
What she doesn’t know is that the more she pulls me along, the more I realize I might just follow her anywhere.