Chapter 10 Is it Faith,is it Delusion?
Ren
Iplan on sleeping in the next morning—I mean, when was the last time I got to sleep in on a Tuesday? But then, even without an alarm, I end up waking up at the same time I would for work. I spent most of yesterday nursing my hangover and contemplating what it meant that Roman knew my coffee order.
Because here’s the thing. He never gave me any clue, either night, that he recognized me from June Bug too. And he acted so disinterested yesterday. Granted, I did tell him at the zoo it would only be one time—something I am beginning to regret—and then made a drunken, butt-slapping fool of myself.
But then, he not only knew my coffee order, but had one waiting for me when I woke up after unexpectedly crashing at his place after an utterly embarrassing night.
Maybe he got it because he was going for himself and figured why not. Maybe he’s just a keen observer and knows all the regulars’ orders.
Maybe, maybe, maybe.
Then I hear my mother’s voice in my head. “There are no maybes when it comes to your dreams, honey bear. If you want it, you got it. You just have to take the first step, and the Great Divine will do the rest. How else do you think I ended up with your father?”
She’d say this whenever my sister or I were doubting ourselves, then she’d retell the story of how she met our father.
My mom prayed for her dream husband, someone who was kind and tall, who made her laugh, and had “eyes as blue as the ocean.” Then one day, she was walking home when a quiet but desperate meow caught her attention. She looked up toward the sound to see a tiny orange kitten stuck in a tree.
He was too high for her to reach, so she tried coaxing him down with some beef jerky she had in her bag.
When that didn’t work, she was conflicted about what to do next.
She couldn’t get him down herself, but if she went home to call the fire department, he might try on his own and get hurt.
And then a man, no more than a year or two older than her, turned the corner.
All she noticed about him at first was his height.
He was tall, well over six feet, which meant he’d be able to reach the kitten no problem.
She asked him for help, and he quickly agreed.
He got him down, and as he pet his little orange body, he said, “I was never any good at basketball, but I could go pro when it comes to rescuing kittens.”
My mom laughed, and he looked up with a smile. It was then she noticed his eyes. They were ocean blue.
She asked if he wanted to come with her to the animal shelter. He thought for a second then said, “I don’t know. He’s a cute little guy. Maybe I’ll keep him, that way I’ll always be there to help when he gets stuck in trees.” My mom laughed again.
Kind and tall, makes her laugh, and eyes as blue as the ocean.
She asked him out right then and there, and the rest is history.
When I was little, I loved listening to their story. It seemed like something out of a fairy tale. But as I got older, I realized that’s exactly what it was, a fairy tale.
I sit up in bed. For so long, I’ve believed my parents are living in a rose-tinted world, that it’s delusional to think that anything but hard work and smart planning is how you get where you want to be.
But I did everything right according to the rules of the “real world.” Since I was a kid, I wanted to work with gorillas, but that was a foolish pipe dream.
So instead, I got an accounting degree because that was the right thing to do, and hey, I still ended up working at a zoo.
And working with gorillas . . . They were just made out of wire and Christmas lights.
I dated the guy I was supposed to date, the smart, successful one. Sure, he could be a condescending jerk sometimes, but that comes with the territory when you’re at the top of your field, right? Turns out being a cheating bastard also comes with it.
Maybe my mom was right after all. Maybe I’ve been taking steps in all the wrong directions if they led me here, jobless and heartbroken.
Maybe the only reason I said “no numbers, no strings” was because that’s what I thought I should do fresh out of a breakup.
Maybe, maybe, maybe.
Maybe it’s time I borrow her rose-tinted glasses and take a step toward what I actually want, not what I should want.
I don’t know if it’s faith or delusion, but thirty minutes later, I’m walking into June Bug Café with my heart beating out of my chest.1
I step inside and unbutton my long coat. The shop is always a little on the hot side, but I never mind. The smell of fresh beans makes the warmth cozy, especially in the winter.
I do my best to discreetly scan the room, but like usual, I’m instantly drawn to Roman. Then I realize that for the first time, I don’t care if it’s obvious I’m looking around for him. He’s sitting at a small circular table for two, the newspaper in his hands.
We spot each other, and my pulse stutters. He offers a small nod in acknowledgment, then returns to his paper. I debate for a few seconds whether to go right to him or order first. But then the decision is made for me when he folds up the paper and stands up like he’s ready to leave.
If you want it, you got it. You just have to take the first step, I tell myself as I push down every insecurity and circling thought and walk over to his table.
By the time I reach him, he’s shrugging on his coat. I catch a hint of his intoxicating cologne. It’s rich and sensual and makes me want to squeeze my thighs together.
“Hey, are you leaving?” I ask, keeping my tone light and casual.
He meets my eyes and for a second, I think he’s going to sit back down. Then his brow furrows just the tiniest bit like he’s conflicted, and he says, “Yeah, you can have my table.”
I wave my hand. “Oh, that’s not—”
“It was good running into you, Ren. I’m sure I’ll see you around,” he dismisses as if in a hurry but trying to be polite.
He steps around me. My window is closing. I call out, “Actually, I wanted to thank you.”
When he turns around, his eyes start at my feet and travel up my body while he drags his lip between his teeth. Chills run up my back in sync with his gaze. His attention is the headiest thing in the world.
He has that same conflicted look as he casually shakes his head. “It was nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
“And—” I begin, but he’s already halfway to the door before I can say what I really wanted to.
Through the snowscape painted on the café’s front windows, I watch him walk across the street to meet Cash outside the Fox’s Den. I sit down with this odd feeling in my gut.
He was clearly meeting up with Cash at this time, but why does it feel like he was running away from me?
Could I be imagining that? Because I’m certain I didn’t imagine the heated way he raked my body with his gaze.
I exhale, confused though not yet discouraged, and flip over the newspaper he left on the table. Two familiar faces stare back at me from mug shots on the front page. The headline makes my heart jump into my throat.
Two Arrested for Sexual Assault, Suspects in at Least Eight More Attacks, Police Say.
1. Play "Calm Me"—Vin Bogart