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“What do you mean?” He stops stacking glasses and folding towels to focus on where this is going.
I prop my elbows on the bar. “I mean… are we friends? Are we dating? I know I said I wanted to take it slow, but at this pace someone’s going to mistake us for roadkill.”
The mood is lightened by his playful laugh. “All I was waiting on was for you to say the word.”
I look around to make sure no one is watching, not that I thought anyone would be, then walk around the bar when I find the restaurant empty.
You weren’t looking for customers, you were looking for Cal.
Who cares if he’s watching? I’m moving on, remember?
I stretch up on my tip toes and whisper in Jaxon’s ear. “Maybe we could start with you walking me to my car.”
He throws the white towel down on the bar and grabs my hand. I can’t help but to smile at his enthusiasm as he leads me through the restaurant and out the door. His frame towers over mine as he backs me against the driver’s side door. I twirl my keyring around my finger nervously, and a childlike smile flickers across his face.
“Nervous?” he asks.
“What gave me away?”
He wraps his fingers around my clanking keys and looks down at me. Before I can retract my decision to move forward with him, Jaxon has his mouth on mine, prying my lips open with his tongue. His hands fall to my waist, pulling me closer.
To my disappointment, the whole experience is very mechanical. Nothing erotic or intimate about it at all. I mean, it has been over two years since I’ve kissed anyone, reeeally kissed anyone. So maybe it’s just not there anymore. At least now I can say I tried, right?
“Wow,” he says once it’s over.
Really?
Wow?
I don’t think we just had the same experience. It’s not that Jaxon isn’t talented in the art of tongue wrestling. It just felt inappropriate. Forced. I can’t believe he didn’t feel it too.
I smile up at him, hoping he doesn’t feel my thoughts. “See you later,” I say, once again gripping my keys in clammy hands.
He grins. “Goodnight, Makenna.”
“Brynn, it was… methodical,” I groan into the phone.
“Come on, Makenna. It couldn’t have been that bad. Jaxon is a serious sexpot. I’d do him.”
I fluff the towel over my damp hair and search my drawer for some suitable pajamas.
“I never said he wasn’t hot. I just said there weren’t sparks. I don’t know. Maybe that part of my brain died when Reid did.”
After two years I can finally say those words out loud. “Reid is dead.” Although it’s not something I practice often. It mostly just comes up when people ask about the engagement ring I still wear. I’ve managed to work up to, “My fiancé died in a robbery.” Which is usually followed by words of sympathy and apologetic expressions.
“You know that’s not true. Remember the office encounter with the Italian Stallion?”
I laugh then slip one of Reid’s T-shirts over my head. “That stallion turned out to be more of a jackass.”
“The point is, that part of your brain woke up for him. Maybe Jaxon just isn’t the guy for you.”
I’m starting to think that whether I want to face the truth or not, the guy for me is nothing more than a picture in a frame and a mind full of memories. After all, you only get a once in a lifetime love, once in a lifetime.
Ten days later, on the two-year anniversary of Reid’s death, it’s after noon, and I am still lying in bed. I don’t know if there will ever be a time when this day is any easier.
I hold onto his pillow and stare at the framed photo on the nightstand. “I don’t know what to do, Reid.” I say the words as if I fully believe he’s right here next to me. “I know I have to let you go, but I’m not ready to do that.”
I hold tighter onto the pillow and curl my knees to my chest. “I wish you were here. Everything with us was so effortless. It just worked. I miss that. I miss you. I just want all of this to go away.”
