The Soulmate Equation (19 page)

This new, tender kind of torture made her want him in all aspects of her life. On the pillow next to hers. Across the table at dinner. Holding her hand at the hospital. River was kind, and thoughtful, and vulnerable. He was brilliant and quietly funny. He was everything she ever wanted in a partner, even if she didn't realize it until he was standing right here, telling her that it was all up to them to try, or not.

Jess released a tiny stream of anxiety: “I'm scared, okay? I don't want to get hurt, and I
really
don't want Juno to get hurt. She's never—” She stopped short, rephrasing. “Juno's never had someone she loved disappear on her.”

River's unwavering gaze softened, and he took another step closer to her. “I don't want that, either. But I'm not a soldier or a robot. I'm not here on GeneticAlly business. I'm following what I'm
feeling
.” He looked back and forth between her eyes for a bit before something in his expression cleared, relaxing. “You'd have no way of knowing this, but I'm terrible at faking emotions.” Jess laughed through a quiet sob. “And I get that it's more complicated because of Juno, but what else am I supposed to do but ask? I
want
to spend time with you.”

“We
are
spending time together,” Jess said lamely.

“Official events and conversations in hospital hallways?” he asked, frowning. “Is this enough for you?”

Could he see the
no
in her eyes? “I don't know what else is possible right now.”

“What does that mean?” River closed the last bit of distance
between them, reaching for her free hand. It felt cold against the heat of his fingers. He looked around the hallway surrounding them. “This is part of life, Jess. Emergencies and responsibility and managing small fires all the time—but it's only part of it. There are quiet moments, too. Good moments. Moments when we can ask for more.”

“It's not the part I'm very good at.”

“I hadn't noticed.” He unleashed a wry smile.

This made her laugh. “What are you saying?”

“I thought it was obvious.” His grin turned shy. “Really?”

“Really.”

“I
want
to be here to bring you coffee. I want to take you out to dinner and order the same food and hear you recite the odds that we would have met. I want to hate-attend fancy social events together.” Jess laughed, a surprised burst of sound, and his tone softened. “I want you to call me for help—without an apology already on the tip of your tongue. I want to feel like I can kiss you again by your car at the end of the night.” He swallowed. “I want you in my bed.”

Jess was a little afraid that her feet would melt into the floor. That flames would travel up her legs and burn a hole straight through her. She wanted that. But if she let herself fall for River, there would be no easy way out.

“I can tell you're not sure what to say,” he said, bending to kiss her cheek. “That's okay. You know where to find me when you're ready.”

P
OPS, WOULD YOU
get out of here for just a little while?”

He ignored her. “What's a thirteen-letter word for ‘old'?”

“I'd say Ronald Davis,” Jess said, “but that's only eleven.”

Nana chuckled from the bed, where she was drowsily half watching TV on mute.

“Well?” he prompted, tired and irritable.

Jess shook her head. “Nope.”

“What do you mean, ‘nope'?” he gruffed.

“I'm not helping you,” she told him. “You stink and you're falling asleep in your chair.”

“She's right,” Nana murmured.

He stared at Nana Jo, then at Jess, and then blinked down, forlorn, at the puzzle. “Octogenarian?” He counted on his fingers, and grunted in annoyance. “Septuagenarian?” Victorious, he moved to write it in.

“That's fourteen letters,” Jess said. “You're forgetting the
U
in there, aren't you?”

Irked, Pops dropped the crossword onto the table in defeat.

“Go home for a bit,” Nana said sleepily. “I don't need you watching me all day.”

“Well, it's not my fault I can't take my eyes off you. You're just too pretty.”

Nana Jo rolled her eyes, but his words made her glow like a Christmas tree.

“Fine, I'll go home and shower and sleep.” He stood, stretching. Something cracked in his back and he let out a tight moan before kissing Nana on the forehead. He looked over his shoulder at Jess. “You won't leave her?” Jess forgave him the accusatory tone; he was exhausted.

It was on the tip of her tongue to joke that she promised to only leave if she got bored or hungry, or if a hot male nurse wanted to sneak into a supply closet, but now was not the time. “I won't leave her.” Quietly, she added, “Superannuated.”

Letting out a quiet “Dammit, I should have known that one,” he walked back over and scribbled the word into the puzzle.

POPS RETURNED AROUND
three, looking significantly cleaner and marginally better rested. He arrived only a handful of minutes before the physical therapist came to get Nana up and out of bed for the first time, and Jess was glad because it took all three of them to talk the normally fearless woman through the panic of putting weight on her leg.

Jess didn't have time to reel in the emotional hit of seeing Nana so frail and scared; it took an hour to get her up and taking the ten
assisted steps to the door, where a wheelchair took her to the PT room, and another hour there, working on strength and balance.

By the time Nana Jo was back in bed for the night it was just after five, and although Jess had been sitting for most of the day, she was so mentally drained that she just wanted to curl up in her bed—hell, she'd happily find a spot on the linoleum floor. But more than that, she wanted some time with Juno while her daughter was awake. And food. She hadn't eaten since she'd picked at a dry bran muffin around ten that morning, and her stomach gnarled in annoyance.

Texting Fizzy that she'd have some dinner delivered, Jess climbed into her car, called an order in to Rama, and turned on the mellow rumble of the National. Music filled the car, and it was an intoxicating hit of calm.

You said love fills you up…

I got it worse than anyone else

Her shoulders tensed, and she turned the music off.

In the silence, her thoughts immediately flooded with River. The paradoxical brew of hospital tedium and chaos had held everything back, but in the dark solitude of her own car, emotion poured over her.

I thought it was obvious.

I want to hear you recite the odds that we would have met.

“ ‘I want you in my bed,' ” she repeated aloud.

Jess pulled into her parking spot in the alley, listened to the engine tick in the silence. She could smell duck curry all the way down the path and sent a silent thanks to Rama.

Inside, Juno and Fizzy were at the table, feasting and playing cards. They were wearing handmade paper hats and Fizzy had put… a lot of makeup on Juno.

“We're filming makeup tutorials for my mom,” Fizzy said, standing to walk over and give Jess a hug.

Jess stifled a laugh at her daughter's exaggerated lips. “I see.”

With an irrepressible urge to deflate in fatigue, Jess considered simply lowering her body to the floor. But she wanted her arms around her kid so bad they ached. At the table, Jess lifted Juno up and set her on her lap while her daughter finished eating, pressing her face to the small stretch between the delicate shoulder blades. “I missed you, Bug.”

“I haven't been gone, silly!” Juno bent in her grip, maneuvering a bite into her mouth.

Once they'd stuffed themselves to the point of discomfort, Juno settled on the couch to watch
The Lion King
, and Fizzy and Jess lingered in the kitchen with glasses of wine.

“I don't like when you're out of town,” Jess said through a yawn. “I blame you for yesterday.”

“Seems reasonable.” Fizzy swallowed a sip and bit her lip, studying Jess with narrowed eyes. “Juno says
River Nicolas
picked her up and took her to ballet?”

Jess waved a hand, unprepared to talk about it yet. “How are things with you and Banker Rob?”

“Hot and fantastic.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Will he be coming to your place later?”

Fizzy shook her head, waving her glass with a delicately bent wrist. “He's out of town, remember? Which means you won't get to
avoid the River conversation.” Her best friend sat at the table and patted the seat next to her.

“Oh. Right.” Jess sat, but immediately crumpled, resting her head on her arms. “I'm too tired, Fizz.”

“Tell me what's going on. You look…” She leaned in, lifting Jess's hair to peek at her face. “This looks like more than just worry about Jo.”

Straightening, Jess quietly unloaded it all, parcel by parcel. She admitted she was starting to feel for River—feelings too big to ponder when it seemed like everything else in her life was pounding at the door to be dealt with. She admitted she didn't know whether River's intentions were completely trustworthy, even though he swore they were. She told Fizzy about the cocktail party, about honest-to-God one of the most intense make-outs the parking lot of Scripps Mercy had ever seen. She told Fizzy about how she couldn't stop thinking about him. She told Fizzy every detail she could think to tell, like she was purging her sins.

“He said that?” Fizzy whispered, wary of the small but excellent ears in the other room. “He actually said the words ‘I want you in my bed'? Just like that?”

Jess nodded.

“With eye contact?”

“Steady, ardent, I'm-going-to-fuck-you-until-you-find-religion eye contact,” Jess confirmed.

Fizzy groaned, reaching for her purse, pulling her notebook out, and writing it down.

Jess bent over her arms again, exhaling an enormous sigh. “I just need some time to figure this all out. It's happening so fast.”

Fizzy dropped her pen, scoffing at this. “Come on. No, you don't.”

Surprised, Jess looked up at her. “What do you mean I don't?”

“You've known him for weeks now. You're telling me he told you he wanted to take you to dinner and hear you be nerdy. He wants to be there for you without you feeling guilty. He admitted he wants you
in his bed
—this poor boy is
sprung
, Jess, and you're going to—what? Shove it aside?”

Jess stared at her, uncomprehending.

“You're looking for a way out of feeling anything,” Fizzy said, “but you're clearly bonkers for this guy.”

“I'm not sure ‘bonkers'—”

“You're scared, and it's cliché.”

She exhaled a shocked laugh. “Wow, give it to me straight, Felicity.”

“You think having feelings for River is selfish.”

“I mean, this situation does actually take me away from both work and Juno,” she said. “I've barely seen her the past two days.”

“So?” Fizzy challenged.

“What…? I—” Jess grew flustered. “She's my kid. I want to see her.”

“Of course you do,” Fizzy said, “but she's Jo's and Pops's and mine, too. She and I had a blast tonight, and I wish I could see her more. But you act like asking for help is selfish, you see wanting something just for yourself as selfish, you see taking any time away from your kid as selfish, and if you're selfish, then you must be turning into your mother.”

Hearing it aloud was like being punched.

“But you're not your mom, Jess.” Fizzy took her hand, lifting it to her mouth to kiss it. “There isn't even a drop of Jamie Davis in you.”

Jess's voice broke. “I know.”

“And if you could do anything tonight when Juno goes to bed, what would it be?”

She expected the word
Sleep
to drop out of her mouth. But instead: “I'd go to his place.”

Fizzy's dark eyes flashed with smug victory. “Then go. I'll stay here with the kid as long as you need me to.”

“Fizz, you don't have to do that.”

“I know I don't.” She kissed Jess's hand again. “That's the whole point. You do things for me because you love me. I do things for you because I love you. Duh.”

Jess scrounged around for the last remaining excuse. Luckily, it was a good one: “I don't know where he lives.”

“Well, you could text him. Or…” Fizzy reached across the table for a piece of paper and handed it to her. On it, in small, cramped handwriting, was the name
River Nicolas Peña
and an address in North Park.

“Wait,” Jess said, laughing incredulously, “how did this end up on my table?”

“I asked the same thing when I found it in Juno's backpack,” Fizzy said with mock bewilderment. “And Juno explained that she wanted to mail him some drawings of Pigeon. How kind of him to give this to her.”

RIVER OPENED THE
door and his mouth went slack.

“Jess.” He reached for her shoulder, concerned. “What are you—? Are you okay?”

All at once, she had no idea what to say. He was standing in front of her in lounge pants that hung low on his hips and a threadbare Stanford T-shirt. He was barefoot and freshly showered. His hair was wet and finger-brushed back off his face; his lips were smooth and perfect. Unraveled and bare, Jess knew in her bones that he was her ninety-eight.

“I wanted to see you.”

Realization altered his expression, and his eyes darted behind her and then quickly back. He licked his lips. “Is Ju—”

“Fizzy.”

He stared, breaths coming out in shorter and shorter gusts. Maybe three seconds later, Jess didn't know who was moving first, whether he pulled her inside or she stepped in out of the cool, humid night, but she was in his entryway only a moment before the door slammed and she was pushed back against it. River braced his hands beside her head, staring with wild disbelief. And then he bent, pressing a groaning kiss to her mouth.

The feel of it, the perfect pressure and angle, transformed her longing into a staggering hunger. Jess's hands shook as they made fists in the soft fabric of his shirt, and when he tasted her—lips parted, tongue teasing—she was hit with a desire so intense it felt like taking a breath too big to hold. She had to pull away, gasping for air.

“I can't believe you're here,” he growled, scraping his teeth down her jaw, sucking, biting at her neck. “Did you come here for this?”

Jess nodded, and greedy hands bunched her sweater as they moved up her torso, seeking skin. The loss of contact while he pulled away to yank it up and over her head was torture, and Jess jerked him back, wedging her hands between them to get his T-shirt off as quickly as her frantic fingers would let her. Beneath her touch he was hard and smooth, candy for her feverish hands.

Jess laughed an apology into his mouth as she managed to get his elbow briefly tangled in one of his sleeves. “It's okay,” he breathed, tossing the shirt away. His eyes met hers for an electric beat before his hair fell forward and he bent to kiss her.

While his mouth moved down her jaw and neck, over her shoulder and along the sensitive inside of her wrist, she watched her fingers memorize each perfect inch of his torso. River's shoulders were broad but not massive, defined but not bulky. His chest, too, and lower, where his stomach clenched under her touch. Jess wanted to dig in, bite, consume. And when her nails scratched up his back, over the curves of his shoulders, tracing his perfect collarbones, his breath caught in his throat.

With his gaze on her face, River reached back, releasing the clasp of her bra. His hands were rough and warm, and Jess wanted to catch every tiny shift in his expression, every reaction to the feel of her. The way he looked at her—the sweet devastation pinching his brow—made Jess feel like she'd been plugged directly into the sun. Urging him back, she fell to her knees, drugged and nearly delirious with need.