31. Tasha
CHAPTER 31
Tasha
T he café was insanely busy and crowded. I wasn’t sure if I regretted the timing I’d chosen or not. Nana didn’t seem to mind one bit that Kingston had stolen her thunder.
When the players left, most of the crowd dispersed with them. Ten minutes after that, it was finally quiet. My shift was almost over, and then I needed to head out to the high school.
I leaned back against the counter and surveyed the café. Penny and Brenna had joined Nana and Monty at her table, and from the way they were looking at and rubbing their bellies, I could deduce what the conversation was about. Monty looked up and caught my gaze and made a funny face. He was probably super uncomfortable.
Out of nowhere, Gabby’s hand closed around my wrist. “Kitchen!”
She pulled me toward the door before I could reply. It swung shut behind us. “What?” I asked.
She pointed to the pocket in my apron. “Open it.”
“Later. ”
“Now.”
“Why?”
“Because.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Not good enough.”
Gabby sighed and rolled her eyes. “C’mon, Tasha.” Her eyes flicked toward the door. “Just … I want to hear what he could possibly have to say, and if he made you feel bad, I’ll get Noel to check him into the boards tonight.”
“With his one kidney?” I asked sarcastically.
“Yes!”
“It’s that important you’d risk a future of dialysis for your husband?”
“Just open the letter!”
“Fine.” I tore open the flap and pulled it out. “Dearest Tasha.” I squinted at the script, reading ahead and not believing what I was seeing. My heart thumped in my chest.
“What is it? What’s it say? Why do you look like you’ve just seen a ghost?”
I peered up at her over the letter. Instead of looking concerned, she wore a satisfied smirk and was practically salivating.
I shook my head and shoved it at her. “Excuse me.”
I flew through the door and stalked to Nana’s table. “You!” I shouted at Monty, grabbing his wrist much like Gabby had gripped mine. “Kitchen! Now!”
His eyes widened, and I pulled at him as he began to stand. I didn’t even bother to excuse my interrupting. I was confused, incensed, confused, elated, confused …
I got him through the door and pointed to the letter in Gabby’s hand. “Explain that!”
Gabby’s lips twitched. She set the letter on the counter and slipped back into the café .
Monty just stared at the paper. I positioned myself between him and the counter and crossed my arms. “Well?”
He paled, and his expressions twisted and morphed from one to another, like he wasn’t sure how to react to being caught. I knew all his faces and recognized panic and torment, then worry. His eyebrows rose with hope, and then he blanched, as if he were in pain or was going to be sick.
I quoted the letter. “I’m ‘the sun and the stars and every source of light’ in your world. You said those exact words to me Saturday night. Do you think I’m stupid?”
His face scrunched, and he pulled at his hair. “No, Tasha. I think you’re very smart.”
“Apparently, I’m not smart enough, because I can’t figure out why your words are in Vlad’s letter.”
Monty closed his eyes and recited, “I would sacrifice my happiness for yours, even if you never knew.”
I gasped. “Has it been you the whole time?”
“Yeah. I’m sorry, Tasha. I was just trying to help the guy … and express how I feel for someone who will never feel the same for me.”
“Someone who would never feel the same for you? Who?” I picked up the letter and scanned the words for a clue.
“My heart is heavy with love unclaimed, but I shall be sustained by the memories you gave.”
My hand flew to my mouth. “Me?” I whispered.
He covered his face with his hands and nodded.
Monty was in love with me.
Me!
His archenemy. Former partner. Verbal sparring opponent.
I set the letter down again and walked slowly toward him until the toes of our shoes touched. A surge of suppressed feelings rushed through me, and I pulled on his hands, revealing a reddened face and shiny eyes.
“I—I’m sorry, Tasha. I know you’re sad about Vlad leaving. I?—”
“Shut up,” I whispered, pulling his face down to mine. “I’m not.” I pressed my lips to his. His arms came around me, and he returned the kiss with fervor, then bent to lift me off my feet. I wrapped my legs around him as he carried me toward the empty counter, setting me on top of it for better leverage for kissing.
For the record, real-life kisses can be better than fiction.
When I couldn’t breathe, I pulled away and looked up at him shyly. His smile was so big and genuine.
“I love you, Tasha. I always have. That’s why I couldn’t be your partner. I didn’t think I could bear it if my personal feelings put you at risk. But that backfired in the worst way. I hurt you anyway—and worse, at that. I should have apologized a long time ago. I’m sorry. I will never hurt you again, I promise.”
“You can make up for it by writing me more letters,” I decided. “And you have to kiss me like that at least three times every day and make up the deficit when you travel.”
“Deal.”
“Shake on it?”
Simultaneously, we both spit into our right hands and slapped them together.
Yeah, it was gross. So what? I had a feeling we’d be sharing all kinds of germs in the future.