Chat Love (27 page)

“Can we please not talk about me? This is your night, and I want you to tell me how it feels to be a wife!” I say with a grin.

She smiles and squeals, “I know, can you believe it? I’m somebody’s wife!”

I laugh and grab a nearby bottle of champagne, pouring us each a glass. We raise our glasses and I announce, “To a long and happy marriage.” We clink our glasses together and drink.

Later, Jackson is helping me walk outside to hail a cab. His arm is around my waist, and he’s supporting me as I stumble to the curb.

“I knew I shouldn’t have let you drink all of that champagne,” he says, playfully wagging a finger at me.

I giggle and jab at his chest with my index finger. “That’s right, it’s all your fault. You made me drink.”

“Of course, just blame it all on me, as usual,” he rolls his eyes jokingly.

I suddenly straighten my posture and look around. “Where did Caitlin go?” I ask, realizing that I haven’t seen her in the past hour. As much as she annoys me, I’m still concerned for her safety.

“She went home early,” Jackson explains. I ask him why. “Do you really want to know?” he asks, and I nod, indicating that I do. “Well, she asked if I would spend the night with her and when I said no, she got upset and left.” I look at him curiously, surprised that he’d turn down a night of guaranteed sex with Caitlin. He shrugs and looks away, signaling to a passing cab.

Jackson helps me into the cab and sits down next to me. I give Jackson’s address to the driver, and Jackson cocks an eyebrow at me.

“Just in case I get sick,” I explain. “I’ll have you there to take care of me.”

He leans in closer to me, squinting. “Do you think you’re going to get sick?”

I shake my head. “No, I was just using that as an excuse.” I’m always surprised by how alcohol makes me courageous.

His eyes darken and he kisses me hard. Once again, we are in a cab on our way to his apartment, kissing like hormonal teenagers. His hands are on my back, drawing me closer to him.

We reach his apartment and he practically throws money at the cab driver. I’m having trouble walking in my heels so he simply picks me up and carries me inside, brushing past the doorman and going directly to an elevator. As we ride it up to his floor, my lips are on his neck, nibbling and sucking as he moans quietly. Finally the elevator delivers us to his floor and he totes me down the hall to his apartment, being careful not to hit my head on the doorframe as we enter.

I close my eyes and feel him lying me down on top of something soft and warm. I call out to Jackson and he gently kisses my cheek, telling me to go to sleep. I refuse to let alcohol ruin another perfectly good evening, and I grab for him. We are quickly kissing, and I feel his hands exploring my body. He helps me out of my dress, and I lie back on the bed, clad only in my black, lacy bra and panties. I hear him moan in appreciation, as he reminds me that I am beautiful. As he leans in to kiss me again, everything suddenly goes black, and I pass out once again.

As I slowly open my eyes, squinting to block out the sunlight, I see that I am waking up in Jackson’s bed again. I lift up the sheets and see that I am wearing a large white T-shirt and blue boxer shorts, both Jackson’s. My head is killing me, my throat is dry, and the smell of cooking food makes my stomach growl. I climb out of bed and notice a glass of water and two aspirin on the nearby nightstand. Following my recent routine, I down the pills and walk to the bathroom, closing the door behind me.

When I turn on the light, I see a mess staring back at me in the mirror. My hair is a tangled bird’s nest, my makeup is smudged all over my face, and my breath smells like I have a fish in my mouth. I spot my toothbrush on the counter, and I immediately brush my teeth, borrowing a swig of Jackson’s mouthwash for good measure. I quickly use the toilet, flushing and washing my hands. As I open the door and walk into the hallway, the intoxicating aroma of food attracts me like a beacon.

I follow the smell to the kitchen and see Jackson, also clad in boxer shorts, hovering over a skillet as he prepares an impressive breakfast.

“Morning, sunshine,” he says with a smile. “You OK?”

“Yeah, I feel a lot better than I did last time.” I smile and take a seat on one of his chairs.

“I’m glad,” he answers, smiling again. “I’ve made breakfast, if you feel up to eating. Do you want a plate?”

I nod, practically drooling already. I hear a bark and see Ginger come running through the door. As I kneel down on the floor, she attacks me, trying to climb into my lap and licking my face excitedly. Meanwhile, Jackson prepares two plates of food and carries them into the living room, setting them down on the coffee table.

“I’ll make you a deal: I’ll make coffee if you’ll go choose something for us to watch while we eat.” I nod and walk into the living room, Ginger following closely on my heels.

Jackson enters the living room, carrying two steaming mugs of coffee. He sets mine down on the table in front of me and takes a sip from his. I continue rubbing Ginger’s belly, and he laughs as she wiggles happily on the floor. Jackson takes a seat next to me on the couch, and turns to face me.

“Shall we dig in?” he says with a grin, grabbing his fork. I nod, and turn to face my food.

I look at my plate, surprised. Jackson has prepared an omelet, toast, bacon, hash browns, and waffles, and I’m surprised to see that he’s even included fresh strawberries and whipped cream as a garnish. I turn and look at him, obviously shocked.

“What?” he asks nonchalantly, handing me the TV remote.

I gesture dramatically to my plate. “You made all of this?”

He takes another sip of coffee. “You make it seem as though cooking is difficult.” He looks at me expectantly. “Go on, take a bite. The proof is in the pudding, you know.”

I pick up my fork and take a bite of my hash browns; they’re cooked perfectly.

“Jackson, I’m impressed.” I say, telling the truth. Until now, I’d never met a man who could cook well, my father being an exception.

He takes a big bite of his cheese omelet. “Well, Lisa hated cooking, so I was responsible for feeding the two of us,” he explains. Before I can ask any other questions about Lisa, he changes the subject. “So have you chosen something for us to watch?”

I take the remote and turn the TV to a local news station, tuning in to their morning show. Jackson nods, satisfied, and continues to eat his breakfast. I decide to try the waffles, and I’m pleased to discover that they are just as well made as the hash browns.

I smile and take another bite, chewing contentedly.
Today is going to be a good day.

As I’m busy enjoying my breakfast with Jackson, I’m suddenly interrupted by the sound of my cell phone vibrating. I quickly locate my clutch and take out my phone, seeing that I have a new text message from Mike, reminding me about our date tonight.

Crap.
I realize that I honestly have no desire to go out with Mike. Between Jack and now Jackson, I’m not sure if I have any spare time or energy to devote to another man. I decide to just continue enjoying breakfast, planning to worry about Mike later. I tuck my phone back into my clutch and leave it on the table, returning to the living room to sit with Jackson.

After another hour of eating and relaxing, I finally decide to ask Jackson for a summary of last night’s events. “So what happened last night?”

He turns to face me and gives me a cocky grin. “All right, well, we were at Skyler and Dave’s wedding.”

I punch his arm lightly. “You know I remember the wedding. I mean afterward; what happened after we left?”

He rubs his chin and continues. “Well, you wanted to come back to my place because you wanted me to take care of you—sexually.” I blush, covering my face with my hands. “So we rushed up here, and I got you into bed …” he trails off, pausing dramatically to build suspense.

“And?” I ask, nervous.

“And you passed out again,” he grins and tousles my hair. “I’m going to have to teach you how to handle your alcohol, aren’t I?”

“I’m sorry,” I say sheepishly, still hiding behind my hands.

“It’s fine,” he says with a chuckle, gently pulling my hands away. “I’m actually beginning to enjoy taking care of you.”

I smile, and ask one final question, “How did I end up in your shirt and boxers?”

“Well,” he begins, “you had already undressed before you passed out, and I felt that leaving you there in just your bra and knickers would have been rude. So I lent you some pajamas.”

I mumble my thanks and he laughs. “Where did you sleep?” I ask.

“In my bed,” he replies.

“With me in it?” I raise my eyebrows.

He chuckles. “Don’t worry; I didn’t go near any of your girly bits while you were sleeping. It was completely innocent.”

He rises and takes our plates to the kitchen. I follow him, carrying our empty coffee mugs and glasses.

“I didn’t snore, did I?” I ask.

He laughs. “You might have, yes.” Again, I feel my cheeks heating up.

We begin to wash the dishes, working together as a team. Jackson invites me to join him for a walk in the park with Ginger later, and I am about to say yes when I remember that I’m supposed to be meeting Mike for coffee.

Disappointed, I say, “I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

Jackson looks at me with narrowed eyes. “Do you have a date?”

I nod my head, wanting to be honest. He looks away from me, and I can tell that he is upset. “It’s just a coffee date, Jackson; nothing serious. I was already considering ending things with him, anyway.”

He interjects, “It doesn’t matter. You don’t have to explain anything to me; I’m not your boyfriend.”

I hesitantly place my hand on his shoulder. “I know you aren’t, but I don’t want you to think that last night didn’t mean anything to me.”

He snaps, “You don’t want me to think that it didn’t mean anything?” He whips around to face me. “Don’t worry; I don’t expect anything from you.” I open my mouth but he continues to speak. “Shouldn’t you be leaving, anyway? Don’t you have a date? Just go; I’ll talk to you later.”

After practically being thrown out of Jackson’s apartment, I hail a cab and head home, tears in my eyes. I hadn’t meant to upset him, but I’d been surprised by his harsh words. When I arrive at my apartment I take a long shower, trying to clear my mind. Why had Jackson responded in such an emotional way? Was he jealous, hurt, or just angry? Does he feel for me what I’m feeling for him?

I get out of the shower and throw on a pair of jeans and a sweater, not bothering to care about my appearance. After putting on a light layer of makeup, I head for the door, walking past Autumn’s room on my way out. As I reach to knock on her door, I hear her talking to someone on the phone, and I decide to give her some privacy. I quickly scribble a note and tape it to her door, then leave the apartment to walk to the Starbucks a few blocks away.

On the way, I mentally prepare a speech to share with Mike. As wonderful as he is, I know that he’s not the one for me, and I’m going to have to be honest with him. Within minutes, I’m approaching Starbucks and I can already see Mike waiting at a table near the window, with two cups of coffee. He smiles at me as I open the door and make my way over to his table.

He kisses my cheek and we both sit down.

“I got you a cappuccino,” he says, pushing the cup across the table.

I thank him and take a large sip. He looks incredibly attractive today, and I’m already having second thoughts about ending things. Still, I know that it’s the right thing to do.

“Mike, we need to talk,” I say.

Mike nods his head in agreement. “Yes, we should talk.”

My eyes widen with surprise. I see him playing with his coffee cup nervously, and I begin to wonder if we may be having the same thoughts. I take a deep breath and say, “I’ve been thinking that maybe we need to stop seeing one another.”

He looks up at me with wide eyes. “Really?” he asks.

Oh no,
I think, suddenly worried that we might be on different pages after all.

My fears are lifted when Mike releases a sigh of relief, his face breaking out into a smile.

“I’ve been thinking the same thing!” he says. “I was afraid that I was going to hurt you, and I couldn’t figure out how to tell you without hurting your feelings.”

We both laugh, already feeling more comfortable. Mike leans back in his chair, sipping his coffee and smiling because of the humorous situation.

“The funny thing is, I don’t understand why there isn’t any chemistry between us, because you’re a great guy, and we have a lot in common. For some reason, though, it’s just not there.”

Mike adds to my thought. “You just aren’t feeling any sparks, right?” I smile and nod, pleasantly surprised. Never have I experienced such an amicable split. We both chuckle, and I’m glad that he’s feeling the same way.

I ask, “Did we just mutually agree that we should stop seeing each other?” It’s hard to believe that we’re actually ending things, because we’re both content and smiling.

“I do believe that we did.” Mike says, smiling. “I want you to know that I really do think that you’re incredible. I enjoy the time we’ve spent together, but I just think that we’re better off as friends. I’m really relieved that we’re on the same page.”

I sit up straighter, taking another sip of my coffee. “I completely agree. You are one of the nicest people I’ve met through Chat Love, but there’s just no spark.” Mike nods his head in agreement. “But I would like to remain friends, if you’re OK with that,” I add.

He gives me a big smile. “I would like that a lot, Lucia.”

After two more cups of cappuccino, Mike and I part ways for the evening.

I forget to use the restroom before I leave, and I find myself rushing home, trying to avoid wetting my pants after having had three cups of coffee. As I enter my building, I quickly rush up the stairs, focusing on my aching bladder. On the way to my door, I bump into someone and mumble an apology without looking up, frantically working to unlock the door to my apartment.

“You don’t need to apologize,” says an all too familiar voice. “I need to apologize.” Jackson steps into view, holding a bag of Chinese takeout and wearing a remorseful expression on his face.