Chapter 14
Lily
The weekend went by in a haze.
We baked, watched movies together, and received an impromptu dance lesson from Sofia as she instructed us on how to do an informal version of the Viennese waltz in the living room.
If I thought I knew how to count, doing so while moving — and trying not to step on Dean’s toes as he led me through the steps — showed me a whole new outlook on numbers.
The sad part was that all the while, we were playing pretend in front of Sofia.
On Saturday, the morning after my period made its perfectly timed arrival, Dean began preparing for his upcoming fight at Castello di Vetro.
It was on Friday, and while I wasn’t thrilled about him walking into another fight — especially since his last one hadn’t gone so well with Murphy — my worries were temporarily set aside at the comment he made as he worked out at the end of his bed.
After performing at least two dozen crunches while I sat on the bed in a hoodie munching on a bag of potato chips, Dean rolled onto his front, pushed himself up into a plank, blew at the strands of black hair hanging in his eyes, and muttered, “I’m out of shape.”
He proceeded to do several push-ups.
I paused mid-chew and looked him over. “Which part?”
He huffed a laugh and tucked his elbows in closer to his sides to do a different kind of push-up.
Every muscle in his core and arms was moving with the motions, somehow becoming more defined than they were seconds ago.
His golden-brown skin and the tattoos wrapped around his toned edges began to shine with a light sheen of sweat.
My eyes caught on the muscles rolling in his shoulders, beneath the wings etched there, and I quietly put my bag of potato chips aside and lay down across the end of the bed. Resting my head in my hand, I simply watched.
When that set was done, he sat back on his haunches and smiled so easily at me — so damn handsomely with the little dimple that appeared in his cheek.
“You know you don’t have to watch, right?”
“I know.”
“But you will anyway?” The smile remained in the corner of his mouth as he brushed his black hair back, steadying his breath.
“One hundred percent. It’s like an anatomy study. For drawing.”
“Aren’t you meant to have the sketchpad and pencil for that?” His right eyebrow lifted, emphasizing the scar there.
I tapped my temple. “I have a good memory. Now, please, continue.”
He chuckled and lay down on the floor, tucking his hands behind his head to begin another set of crunches with the waistband of his basketball shorts sitting below his hip bones.
The rest of the weekend was filled with moments like that. Soft and sweet. The kind that should last forever. The kind that were easily taken for granted. I found myself counting each one and storing them in a safe little box, somewhere in my mind for when the inevitable happened.
I had tucked that one away when Kira joined me on our pastel blue couch to begin our impromptu Sunday evening girls' night in — a night that was overdue and needed.
With large bowls of popcorn in our laps, red wine, and macarons between us, we were ready to begin our movie marathon of horror and rom-coms.
We started a cult-classic horror first and spent part of it watching from behind pillows as the heroine spoke to the masked killer on the phone.
“Well, don’t go outside!” Kira exclaimed, throwing her arms wide at the TV.
“I hate and love cliches,” I said from behind the safety of my pillow, waiting for the jump-scare.
Our eyes were glued to the screen in anticipation. My palms were clammy, and Kira was already lifting her pillow as a precaution.
Until Kira’s phone buzzed obnoxiously on the coffee table and we screamed.
“Oh my god!” I laughed, sliding off the couch and onto the floor as the buzzing continued.
Kira, perched on the arm of the chair, had a hand pressed to her chest as she quickly paused the movie. “This is why I don’t watch scary movies. Jesus Christ.”
I let my head flop back on the couch cushion. “Are you going to answer it?”
“You know the rules.” She gestured to the TV again. “Don’t answer the phone.”
“What if it’s Seb?” I smiled knowingly.
“Pfft, doubt it…” She glanced at her phone as it buzzed again, and then promptly stepped off the couch and picked it up to answer. “Hello?”
As she took the call, I headed to the kitchen for drink refills, noting the subtle ache in my abdomen as the pain meds wore off.
I checked the time for how long had passed since the last two tablets I took.
More than enough time had passed, so I reached for the pain meds above the fridge and popped another two.
Downing them with a sip of wine, and then another as my eyes settled on the freezer door in front of me, where the business card from that psychologist remained untouched and partially hidden behind bills and several takeaway brochures.
I took another long sip and squared my shoulders.
Tomorrow.
I would call him tomorrow and get it over and done with.
Like ripping off that metaphorical Band-Aid, I would make that call tomorrow to begin seeing someone about surviving a gunshot.
Even if the idea of talking about it, dredging up all those feelings, was turning my stomach into knots.
Everyone else was moving forward from that fateful day, so it was about time I did too.
I mentally shook it off as tomorrow’s problem and headed back to the couch with the wine glasses full.
Kira hung up her phone, face indifferent as she plopped onto the couch.
“Not Seb?”
“No. It was someone from work asking if I could cover their shift… Anyway, why would you think I was expecting a call from him?” Her movements to act casually made it all the more obvious.
“I know you slept with him, Kira,” I smiled softly.
She couldn’t contain her happiness any longer. It burst from her like sun rays as her lips spread into a grin. “I wouldn’t exactly call what we did sleeping. We did it, several times, on Friday afternoon, and then when I woke up that same afternoon, he’d gone. But he did leave a note.”
“What did it say?” I was intrigued now, barely containing my smile as I set the glasses down and sat beside her.
Kira pressed her lips together and reached into her back pocket. She pulled out a post-it note and handed it to me to read. On the yellow paper was a simple note.
‘Have a good weekend, Smiles.’
I pouted happily. “That is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“But I don’t know what I’m doing,” she groaned, dropping her face into her hands while her wild, red hair fell around her shoulders.
“Because of what you had with Aiden?”
She sat up quickly, pulling a face in disgust. “No, definitely not because of him. Without him, I feel wonderful. With Seb, I felt wonderful. I haven’t felt this happy in so long. But it feels like it should be wrong to dive into something so fast.”
“I hate to break it to you, Kira,” I placed a hand on her knee, “But slow and steady hasn’t ever been your thing.”
“Okay, true,” she laughed.
“Sooo?” I wagged my eyebrows.
“We just—click. And it feels so easy,” she sighed, falling heavily into the back of the couch.
Her happiness was contagious as I grinned. “Have you talked to him about how you feel?”
“No… And it’s not because I’m avoiding it,” she added quickly when I gave her a look.
“Seb dropped his phone when we went for bubble tea, and it broke in a puddle. So, I think he’s getting it repaired, which would explain why he hasn’t been able to talk to me all weekend…
And part of me wants to talk to him, because I know how easy it is to talk to him… ”
“But?”
“But I also don’t want to find out I’ve read the situation completely wrong and have my heart broken again.” Her shoulders slumped slightly, and her smile became more subdued.
“You’ve had sex, Kira. I don’t think you’re reading anything wrong.”
“What if all he wants is that?”
“Which is why you need to talk to him,” I urged, and then frowned slightly. “Obviously, when his phone is fixed. I could always ask Dean to relay a message. They have their fights this Friday.”
Kira began nodding slowly as she considered it, but shook her head quickly. “No. No. I don’t want to start waiting on a man again… Seb always shows up for my SDV meetings on Thursdays, so I’ll talk to him then.”
“Even better,” I half smiled. “It’s not like Seb not to show up. The guy is the definition of loyal.”
“Exactly.” She nodded in reassurance, more so to herself, before she grabbed her wine glass and took a long gulp. Her brown eyes suddenly widened over the rim of the glass at me, and she lowered it to her lap. “How are you feeling about Friday, though?”
“With the fight?” I hummed nervously and pulled a pillow into my lap. “Not great… It’s not like I’m doubting Dean’s ability. I know he can handle it.”
“Just look at what he did to Aiden,” Kira added, lifting her wine glass as if toasting the beating Aiden received that day.
“Right? Handled…” I played with the corner of the pillow.
“It’s the investigation, isn’t it? All the undercover stuff?”
My eyes shot to her. “How do you know about that?”
“Seb told me everything on our bubble tea date,” she winced. “Sorry.”
“No, it’s fine.” I inhaled sharply. “Actually, it’s easier now that you know. I have someone else to vent to in case it all goes sideways.”
“I’m always here for when shit goes sideways.” She grasped my hand. “You know that, right? You can vent to me.”
“I appreciate you so much for it.”