27. Rhodes
27
Rhodes
A nd that’s how you feed your sourdough starter .
This isn’t what I said, but it’s what I wish I were telling Paige right now.
Instead, I’m getting ready to tell my deepest truth.
I clear my throat. “Do you want to order some food—"
“Rhodes,” she says again with an edge of warning.
“Okay, so no food,” I confirm and finally take the seat across from her. It’s still warm, thanks to Don.
“What is going on ?” Her tone is demanding, rightfully so.
I— Roger —told her I’d be wearing a navy blue baseball hat with the Seattle team logo on it. I figured it would be easier to identify myself and reveal who I am without saying many words right away. But her questions are still flying at me, and I get it. I wore my comfort outfit, too, and it’s a damn giveaway.
But it’s doing little to comfort me right now.
And the surprise appearance of Don sitting with Paige wasn’t helping either. The advice he gave me made me fear for my life.
I tug at the neckline of my T-shirt. “Maybe we should go outside?”
“Why?”
I gulp. “It’s hot in here. ”
She stands abruptly and starts walking out the swinging front doors, the same ones since Smith opened them for the first time. I’ve walked through them plenty, taking their two-way swinging ability for granted even if it says push on the outside. Paige just pushed from the inside with little effort, and the door is still swinging when I reach for it. I manage to catch it in my hand before it smacks me in the face.
“Paige!” I call for her in case she decides to take up long-distance running. At least I know I’ll be able to catch up with her eventually because my legs are longer. “Wait, please.”
She whirls around in the middle of the parking lot, and we nearly collide. “Why are you wearing Roger’s hat? The shirt. All of it!” She’s breathing heavily through her nose, eyes wide. “Alfredo!”
Damn it.
She went there.
The wind chills my face as it sobers me. “I…he…this isn’t.” I stop talking and drop my eyes to the ground. She’s wearing her platform sandals, the same ones she bought at the outlet stores in North Bend last summer because she didn’t want to hike.
“Are you…” She doesn’t finish her sentence.
“Yes,” I simply say, not needing more of her words to know what she’s asking. “I am.”
“This whole time?” she asks, voice hushed.
I nod.
“So…so, he doesn’t exist?”
“No, he doesn’t.” I take a deep breath. “I mean…technically, he does because I’m Roger, and I exist.”
I consider sticking out my hand to shake hers, but I think better of it. She didn’t laugh at what I just said, and I realize this isn’t exactly the time for joking. I peep a glance, and she looks like her world is crashing down. Her mouth is downturned, shoulders sunken, and arms slack by her side.
I did this to her.
I knew I’d do this to her.
And yet, I still did it.
“Paige, I’m so, so sorry. You have to believe me that I didn’t do this to hurt you—”
“We talked about…things. About intimate things,” she states, looking up at me in a pleading way.
“We did.”
“You lied to me.” She presses flat palms to her temples. “And you’re my friend.”
My gut twists with the worst kind of pain hearing her say this. “I am, but Paige, I didn’t do this to embarrass you. I did this because…” My throat is seconds from closing, but I have to get the confession out. “Because I like you.”
Her eyes snap to mine, and she slowly drops her hands from her face. “You like me?”
I can only manage another nod. The sole reason my heart is still inside my body and not being thrown up on the ground is because of my clenched jaw.
She stares at me for a long moment, drawing in air through her nose. I hold her gaze because I fear if I look away first, she’ll read hesitation in my reaction. But there isn’t an ounce of hesitation in how I feel about her.
“I’ve liked you for a long time,” I explain. “Too long. Through boyfriends and new pets and that one season you started making felted animals and selling them online. Do you remember that?”
“Of course I do. They were adorable. ”
“I still have the orange fox beside my bed,” I say, dropping my chin to my chest.
“I know.” Her voice is almost solemn. “I’ve seen it. Makes me smile every time.”
Hope ignites in my chest. She has to see it. How much our lives have intertwined. How good we are together.
“I’ve liked you since college, and when you had braces with rainbow rubber bands in middle school and talked with a lisp for the next two years. I still smile when I think of you trying to say Mississippi.”
“You do?”
My sigh comes with my answer. “Yes. These feelings aren’t new to me, but I think they might be for you.” I’m rambling, but I can’t stop. “I’ve wanted to tell you for so long, but I couldn’t. You’ve gone from one relationship to the next—”
“Yeah, because I didn’t know my best friend liked me.” She crosses her arms.
I rub my forehead. “I didn’t say anything because you were figuring out what you wanted, and I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”
She huffs and shifts on her feet. “That’s what they all say.”
“Who’s they ?”
“You know, all the best friends in movies and books who don’t say how they feel because they don’t want to ruin the friendship. Well,” she pauses, “why now, Rhodes? Why are you saying something now?”
Her tone has an edge of irritation, but there’s only one way out of this: honesty. “Delia told me about this opportunity, and I couldn’t pass it up. It felt like the perfect time to get to know you—”
“As Roger,” she interjects.
“Yes, as Roger. He was a safe way to go beyond all of our…” I circle both hands in the air, “friend energy. He allowed me to be me while also being the man who wants to kiss you, who likes how you smell way too much and thinks about how soft your skin is even more. Rhodes couldn’t do any of that.”
She swallows and kicks at a rock on the ground instead. “You wanted to kiss me?”
I take a few steadying breaths, letting the lies dissipate. “ Want , Paige. I want to kiss you.” My eyes drop to her mouth, but I quickly find her eyes again, worried I’ve overstepped. I mean, I have, but I don’t know how to go back now.
The sound of cars passing by the small parking lot steals the dead space between all of my confessions, but it still feels like someone is screaming in my ear. I can’t believe I just said all of that. Who am I to think Paige would want anything more than friendship? She even said herself that nothing ever happened between the two of us, so it probably won’t.
She was right.
“Paige, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said all of that. It’s not true.” I tip my head side to side. “Some of it is. Okay, all of it, but it doesn’t have to mean anything. I don’t want us to change.”
“You don’t?”
“No,” I confirm.
Her brows are still pulled so tightly together, I think they might snap. “But you like me?”
“Yeah.”
“And you want to kiss me?”
I nod but say nothing. I can’t even believe I’ve admitted all of this. Every fear I’ve ever had about telling Paige is coming true right now. How the hell are we supposed to go back?
I have to fix this. “We can just pretend like nothing—”
“Shut up.” My face is sandwiched between Paige’s hands while she’s on her tiptoes and looking back and forth between my eyes. “Please,” she adds because there isn’t a soul on this earth Paige has been able to be mean to.
She reaches for the bill of my backward hat, turning it and confirming it says exactly what I said it would. Nodding, she situates it back the way I had it—mostly. Her eyes are on me, but they’re distant, seeing through me.
“Alfredo,” I say through a strained whisper. My breathing has stopped completely, and my heart is stuck on a pogo stick from hell. She has every last ounce of my attention.
Finally, looking back at me, the wind whips the stray pieces of her hair that came untucked from behind her ears, and her glasses are already sliding down the bridge of her nose. But she does nothing to fix them. She just stares at me as if she’s asking me more questions telepathically.
“Paige?”
“Shh!”
Her arms are almost fully extended in order to reach my face, and I’m slightly bent forward to be closer, nearer to her hands touching my skin.
She licks her lips, and I’m expecting her to slap me across the face and tell me how angry she is that I lied to her, but she doesn’t do that.
Instead, she kisses me.
It’s only a peck, and she pulls back just as fast with wide, searching eyes. I didn’t even have time to blink, let alone close my eyes. I’m still holding my breath like I’m driving through the longest tunnel, and I’m set on not being the first to breathe and lose the game.
“What was—”
“Shh!” she snaps again, and then her lips are on mine again, lingering for a half a beat more .
I’m not going to act like a startled animal this time. So when she pulls back, I bracket my hands on the sides of her face and hold her steady. Her lips are light as they gingerly touch mine once more, sparking and shattering every daydream of how good I thought this would feel.
It’s better.
So much better.
I savor her mouth like it’s a five course meal. The hors d'oeuvres are the barely-there brushes of our lips. Added pressure where her lips take on a form—a shape—are the appetizers that stave off my hunger but only for a little while. When she grips handfuls of the T-shirt at my waist, it’s like biting into the crisp salad.
But it’s when I tug her face closer to mine, and she tilts her head, inviting me to deepen the kiss, I know I’m enjoying the main course. I tease the seam of her mouth with the tip of my tongue, and she parts for me, tentatively touching my tongue with the tip of hers with a soft moan at the back of her throat.
I’m ravenous for her, for this kiss, for all of the time we still have ahead of us to do this.
She rocks her body into mine, and I short circuit. I’m not Roger or Rhodes right now. I’m just a man who is at the mercy of the woman he loves.
My fingers instinctively comb through her hair, effectively skewing it. But I can’t help myself. In every version of my dreams with Paige, it involves handfuls of her gorgeous hair. My hands are only acting on instinct.
Her fingers are digging into my hips, but all is forgiven when she pulls her body flush against mine and stays there. I’m sure the hard lines of my body against hers are as obvious as the sun means day and moon means night, but I don’t even care. All I can feel are her perfect lips moving in tandem with mine. I’ve never been kissed like this.
I’ve never kissed anyone else like this.
Dessert is when the hurried pace slows again. Our heads angle, and my fingers skate down her spine until just above the swell of her ass. This is the five course meal I want to eat for the rest of my life.
I’m ready to take this somewhere more private when I realize we’re in the parking lot, and that option doesn’t exist.
One of my hands slides under the back of her shirt, and I’m groaning against her mouth at the feel of her, refusing to pull away until a car alarm goes off and has us jumping apart.
All too soon, she’s out of my reach, and the look on her face says I may never get her back.