Chapter 10
JUDE
Nora’s words from the other day echo in my mind as I move toward the kitchen.
It’s not working for me.
Is Sasha right? Would Nora be happy if I kissed her? Or was she dancing around something else? Something I’m too dense to understand?
When I reach the entrance to the kitchen, I suddenly don’t know why I came this way. I want to turn heel and get the fuck out. This is too much. I can’t do feelings. Not these kind.
But it’s too late. Nora and the two men have turned around and are all staring at me with wary expressions.
For some reason I think back to my last conversation with my agent, when I finally pitched him my idea. “Just stick to what you’re good at, Jude. I’ve got you set for life, and this will just ruin a good thing.”
“Jude,” Nora says, her voice clipped.
“Ah the famous Jude Kelly,” one of the men says. He’s got a little mustache I’d like to knock off his face. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”
“I’m sure it’s all good. Nora, can we talk?”
“Jude, these are—”
“I don’t really care who these are, Nora. I need to talk to you.”
Her eyeballs go wide. “Jude!”
“You okay, Nora?” the man who touched her says.
He looks nervous. Still, I have to admire his chops, that he’s looking out for her.
When I look down at him, I think I finally understand my brother Eli.
He broke his now-fiancée’s ex’s nose once.
But Nora would never speak to me again. Plus, I’m a lover, not a fighter. A lover who doesn’t know how to love.
Shit, how many of those whiskeys have I had?
“I’m fine,” Nora says. “But maybe we could have a minute please?” She looks apologetically between the men. They both nod and scurry out like the room’s on fire.
“Nora, I—”
“No, Jude.” Her voice is still that signature soft caress that makes me feel like I’m home. But I know better than to think she’s okay. She’s like she was in the library, only this time I feel the heat of her gaze on me. “You listen to me. You can’t come barging in here like a fucking caveman.”
And God help me, as I’m staring at her, my eyes drop south. I can’t help it. It’s the whiskey and her sex-on-a-stick outfit. I drag my idiot gaze over the curve of her breasts, the dip of her waist, the slight roundness of her hips.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asks, her voice wobbling.
She told me she got called bony and flat when she was a teenager. That’s bullshit. But I already knew that, from the odd stolen glance back home.
I bring my eyes back up to hers.
“Maybe I am a caveman,” I bark out. I look out into the living room. “I feel like one in here. Who were those assholes?”
“Friends, Jude. Students, like me.”
I suck my teeth and turn around, looking for a drink. “They look a little old to be students.”
“They’re PhD students. You can do it anytime. I’m older than half my class.”
“Met a few of them out there,” I say bitterly.
“Were you Nice Jude? Or this Jude?”
Heat curls in my chest. Embarrassment, maybe. I hold a bottle up to the light. Peppermint liqueur. I don’t want to puke, so I reach for the open bottle of wine behind that, pouring it into my crystal glass.
I ignore her question and hold up the glass. “Classy, right?”
“Stupid.”
“Exactly.” I take a swig of wine, then lean both hands on the counter, the wine still between my forefinger and thumb.
Nora sighs. “Jude, would you stop?”
“Stop what?”
“I was hoping we could talk like adults.”
I turn on her. “Sure, Nora. That’s what we are, right? Two adults; a man and a woman, who somehow managed to have a friendship that was fucking everything. Then, the woman left, and it’s fallen into fucking pieces. Now, that guy out there—”
Anger heats her cheeks.
“Sorry, I forgot, it wasn’t working before, apparently.”
She doesn’t say anything. But maybe that’s because I’ve stepped so close I’m in her personal space. I should back up. But goddammit, I can smell her. It’s a scent so familiar it makes my breath catch. I can’t help it; I dip my face. “You know, I still smell it at home sometimes?”
“What?” she whispers.
“Your shampoo. Just the ghost of it on a breeze.”
“Jude,” Nora says, softly laying her hands on my chest. She gently pushes me away and I feel something inside of me crack.
Sasha has it all wrong. We’re friends, that’s all. If we weren’t, she’d be pulling me to her. The way I suddenly want her to.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I think I’m a little drunk.”
Way to fucking go, Kelly! my old coach’s voice rattles in my ear.
When I back away, Nora takes my hand in hers. But she won’t quite meet my eye.
“You know what Cap said to me that day outside the hotel when I told you I was leaving?”
It feels so good to have her touch me, I have to work hard to focus on her words. But she’s talking about Cap. My son. The only other person in the world I care about besides the woman in front of me.
“What did he say?”
She swallows, the length of her pale throat bobbing. I can’t look away.
“He told me he still wanted a mom.”
I freeze, my chest seizing. “What?” I’d thought he’d moved past this.
“He told me he couldn’t tell you because you’d get upset with him.”
My already tight heart feels like a knife has gone through it. My own son couldn’t tell me what was still burning in his little heart.
The world seems to close in on me. I pull my hand from hers. Then I drink my wine too fast. I’m going to be shit-faced at this rate. But it’s the only thing keeping me from spinning out of control.
“He tells me everything.”
What was it that therapist told me years ago when I was a dad and Farrah left?
Disbelief is the first stage of acceptance.
I grip my fingers tight around the glass.
“He didn’t tell you that,” Nora says softly. “He was worried about you.”
“He was six when he told you that!” Almost seven. But still, so young. And protecting my feelings.
“He’s smart.”
I scoff, draining the wine. At least one of us is.
Nora takes the glass away from me. “Jude, do you get it now? I couldn’t stay. How could I, when I was the one thing standing in the way of Cap having a mom?”
“Cap has a mom!” I say, the words coming out harder than I meant them to.
“Who you can’t stand to be around.”
“I’m trying! We’re going on this trip, aren’t we?”
Nora nods. “Yes. But that’s not what I’m talking about, and you know it. I know you have so much love to give, and I know you could be happy with someone if you just gave it a try. You just have to show them the real you.”
I grip my hand into a fist and lean my head down. “What, the good-time guy who sometimes gets real dark? Nobody wants that.”
A long beat stretches out where all I can hear is thumping music and people shrieking with laughter out in the living room. There are people out in the hallway just outside the door, too.
Her eyes are so big behind those glasses, her green irises as dark as her velvet top. She blinks. “Someone might, Jude.”
My eyes go to the pulse at her throat, the delicate line of her collarbone.
“Like who, Nora?” I can’t help asking. Curiosity, that’s all.
Her cheeks flush.
My cock stiffens. I flirt, sure. But not with Nora. And I never take it this far. Nora deserves the world. Not a mess like me.
“Anyone, Jude.” Nora looks down, swinging her camera from her hip around to her front.
But that dark part of me can’t let it go. I could probably cross the line with her. I bet there’s a 50/50 chance she’d say yes.
I reach up and cup her jaw, running a thumb along her cheekbone.
Nora sucks in a breath.
Okay, 70/30. In my favor. We could go to bed together; I could touch her like this and more. The way I suddenly want to right now. Our friendship is pretty much ruined anyway, so no risk there.
I draw my thumb lower, brushing it across the plump softness of her upper lip.
Then the voices outside amplify and a couple comes in, laughing, looking for booze.
I drop my hand.
“Sorry, we disturbing you?” the woman asks.
The man lets out a whistle. “Of course we were, sweetheart!” His eyes are dopey and drunk. “You could cut the tension in here with a butter knife!”
She shrieks like this is the funniest thing in the world. “A butter knife!”
I swing to the side to give them room, leaning my back against the counter next to Nora.
Jesus. What was I thinking? I haven’t touched a woman like that in years. I promised myself I wouldn’t. Women make me lose focus. Bad things happen when I lose focus.
“Sorry,” I say under my breath as they laugh and bash around in the cupboard. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
“No,” Nora whispers. “You shouldn’t have.”
“I shouldn’t have kissed you, either.” I slide my hand over so it’s next to hers on the counter behind us and cross my pinkie over hers. She blinks, her chest rising and falling hard with each breath.
“You didn’t.”
I look over at her. “The other time.”
Nora’s eyes meet mine. They’re wide. Beautiful. Questioning.
“There!” the woman cries. They’ve finally found something to use for wineglasses. Someone else comes in behind them, opening the fridge and digging around in the beer bottles.
I lean in. “I just wanted you to stay.”
I wait for her to say something, to get mad again maybe. But all she does is swallow. Then she says, “I need a drink.”