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I’m going to do what hasn’t been easy but has made a way forChristopher and me, cleared a path for us to finally live in the present, not twisted up in our past.
I’m going to communicate like a goddamn adult.
Once my ears stop ringing. And I can breathe properly.
I’m so focused on calming myself, I don’t hear what they continue saying down the hall, but I don’t want to.
I don’t want to hear Christopher explain and defend himself.
I don’t need proof of my belief that he cares for me deeply, that it wasn’t whatever plea my family, maybe even our friends, brought to him, that made Christopher’s heart see my hurt—it wasmyhonesty,mytruth, and his, too, that allowed us to truly see and choose each other.
We’rethe ones who chose this.
And I choose to trust him. Which is why, now that my lungs work properly and my ears don’t sound like tiny foghorns are blasting inside them, I toss aside my laptop and headphones, wrench open the studio door, and march straight down the hallway toward the person who needs to hear that.
•THIRTY-EIGHT•
Christopher
Jamie and I stand at odds for the first time in our friendship, and I hate nearly everything about it. It’s too damn early. I woke up to an empty bed without Kate. I’m starving for her and for a solid meal after having had no appetite last night after my migraine and not enough time with my hands and mouth on her, making her come.
The one redeeming part of this highly unpleasant moment is that Jamie’s grilling me because he feels responsible for how his request to sort things out with Kate could hurt the woman I love, and for that, I can’t fault him.
I just really want him to believe me and trust me.
“Jamie.” I take a slow deep breath. “I acknowledge that I made a commitment to smooth things over with Kate at your and Bill’s request, hell, even for poor lovesick Nick’s sake, but the farthest that got me was a few bruised toes at Tacos and Tangos, and a decision to keep my distance from her, which I clearly sucked at, given I lasted a week before I came around for game night and couldn’t leave her alone. That’s what led to... everything changing.
“Things changed whenKatetold me how I’d hurt her. What she said wrecked me, and I swore to myself and her that I’d fix that. What came from that, where I am now, that’s the result. What you’re seeing, my being here, is born out of something that—no offense—hasnothingto do with anyone but the two ofus. Just please believe me when I say I would sooner die than ever willfully hurt Kate. She’s safe with me.”
Jamie exhales heavily and rubs the bridge of his nose. “God, I’m glad to hear that.”
“Do you believe me?”
He looks at me like I just asked if bananas are grown on Mars. “Of course I do. I just couldn’t not saysomething. If, even indirectly, accidentally, what I asked of you led to Bea’s sister being hurt—”
“You don’t need to explain. It means a lot to me that you care so much about her, that you’d come to me and make sure she’s safe.”
I offer my hand. Jamie takes it. And like always, we offer each other a bracing, backslapping hug.
“Petruchio.”
My head whips toward the sound of Kate’s voice calling my name as she storms down the hall. My gaze skips past her to the open studio door, and the blood in my veins turns to ice. What did she hear? What has she made of it?
Kate tips her head to Jamie, says, “Morning,” then grabs my hand, hard and tight, and just keeps walking. I spin, following her as she tugs me down the hallway toward her room.
“Kate, I don’t know what you heard—”
“Hush.” She shoves open her bedroom door, rounds on me, gets a good fistful of my shirt, and yanks me down for a hard, bruising kiss. “I don’t need a word of explanation,” she says against my mouth. “I trust you, whatever it is. I believe you.”
They’re words I didn’t know how badly I needed to hear, how desperately I needed to know she meant.
“Kate,” I whisper brokenly, lifting her up, wrapping her legs around my waist, holding her so tight. “Listen to me.”
She kisses my cheek, my temple. “I’m listening.”
“Your family loves you. So much that they called me on my bullshit after I was an ass at Thanksgiving and told me to knock it off. As you can imagine, I didn’t take that particularly well.”
“Christopher, I told you, I don’t need—”
