Every Breath You Take (The Every Breath Duet Book 1) Page 6

  “I had a date!” I blurted, bouncing in my seat. I really should’ve waited until I got home to do this. I was too giddy to drive. Thankfully, it was only a ten-minute trip, door-to-door.

  Sam cleared his throat on the other end. “The doctor?”

  “Mmm hmm.”

  “You finally called him?”

  “Actually, I didn’t.” I nibbled my lower lip, remembering what a thrill it was for him to show up out of the blue. “He came to the salon and whisked me off my feet.”

  “Oh, he did, did he?”

  “He totally did!” I squealed. My heart hammered in my chest, a nervous but electrifying current coursing through my body. “Sam! This is monumental. I was so apprehensive, I didn’t think I could go through with it, but . . . I had a great time! He was wonderful and everything was effortless and I . . . holy shit, Sam! I think I can actually do this.”

  “Do what?” he asked, chuckling. To him, my excitement was probably quite comical. I was babbling without coming up for air.

  “Date. Be with another man. Move on!” Those two words had plagued the shit out of me. Every time I thought about it, I clammed up and felt the blood draining from my face. Moving on meant letting go of the past. I didn’t necessarily want to hold on with such a desperate need, but I also didn’t want to let it go entirely. Not every aspect of my past with Hunter was bad. Erasing all those memories to start over and move on would be like erasing an important part of who I was. I didn’t want to lose that identity; I just didn’t want to feel stuck anymore. Trapped in a motionless state, stagnant and unmoving.

  “Wow,” he breathed out and then paused. This was an adjustment for both of us. He’d been so used to listening to me cry and worry since the breakup. This was certainly a change of pace. “I never thought I’d actually hear you say that.”

  “I didn’t either. I’m kind of shocked those words left my mouth so easily.” The fact they did definitely meant something.

  “I’m happy for you,” Sam finally said. It was genuine, but I expected more. It was a subdued response to something I considered big news. Maybe it was because he was at work and couldn’t be his regular boisterous self. Or maybe he was thinking for me, like he often did.

  “What’s the matter? Why aren’t you jumping up and down for me the way I thought you would? Didn’t you tell me I had to let go and move on?”

  “Nothing’s wrong and yes, I did say that. You just caught me at a bad time here, that’s all.”

  A surge of relief filled the car and I released some of the tension off the steering wheel. “Okay, good. Because for a second there, I thought you were going to take all the fun out of the funnest night I’ve had in ages.” I turned left down my block, smiling as I pulled into the driveway.

  “Funnest isn’t even a word, dummy.”

  “Yeah, so. Are you the word police?”

  “No. Just the reality police.”

  “Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?” I knew I sensed something. But this was a little unexpected. I thought for sure he’d cheer me on, considering how down in the dumps I’d been the last few times we spoke.

  “I don’t know, London. You think it’s a good idea to get involved with your mother’s doctor?”

  “Oh, that?” Of course it crossed my mind, but he wasn’t my doctor. And if things ever turned serious—or uncomfortable—between us, there were other doctors on his team who he could pass the case off to. Sam had nothing to worry about if this was his main concern. “Here I was thinking you were going to tell me I was being too hasty or getting ahead of myself with my emotions. Because I’m definitely not, Sam. I thought and overthought this so many times.

  “I brushed him off. I put it out of my head in hopes he’d stop asking. I even ignored the butterflies I got whenever I saw him. But this time I didn’t want to. When he showed up tonight, I knew I was finally ready. And being with him tonight made me realize how lonely I’ve been. A year is a hell of a long time to be alone. Especially for someone like me. You know how much I fear the very idea.”

  “So, you’re going to rush into a full on relationship with the first guy who shows interest in you just because you hate to be alone?”

  “No! Of course not. You know that’s not what I meant.” I was usually the Debbie Downer, but hearing him say that out loud was like a shiny pin to my happy bubble. “Thanks for raining on my parade, asshole. This is definitely not how I saw this conversation going.” I banged the back of my head against the headrest. The lights were off in the house which meant Mom was already asleep. I didn’t want to wake her, so it was best if I stayed out here. I turned the car off completely so the hum of the engine and the glare of my headlights wouldn’t disturb Mom or the neighbors.

  There was silence on both ends of the call for at least a minute. I didn’t know what to say and I didn’t feel like defending myself.

  Sixty seconds felt like an eternity, enough time for my mind to wander, for me to second guess my emotions about Bryce and the date and moving on. I cleared my throat, ready to say good night and thanks for nothing, but Sam was first to speak, breaking the tension.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” His tone was now gentler, more supportive. “You’re right. I’m being stupid. I’m just worried about you.”

  “What else is new?”

  “Come on, you know that’s par for the course. I can’t help worrying about you and I’m so far away and this guy didn’t even get the Sam stamp of approval yet.”

  “He has my stamp of approval, isn’t that all that matters?”

  Sam released a breathy laugh from his nose. I could envision the dimple forming under his right eye when he smiled. “Yes, you’re right. And as long as he makes you happy, I’m happy.”

  “Good.” I curtly nodded my head in punctuation, not that he could see it.

  “Just take it slow. There’s no need to rush, okay? You were with the same guy since you were sixteen. When I told you to move on, I thought maybe you’d sow some of those wild oats that’ve been growing green mold over the years.”

  “If you’re insinuating that Hunter and I had a shitty sex life, then you’re sorely mistaken. Intimacy was never the problem, the gambling and the lies are what fucked our marriage for good.”

  “And on that note—”

  “What? Tired of hearing me bitch and moan over the same old shit?”

  “No, I don’t want to hear about your sex life.”

  “Why? TMI, or are you just jealous?”

  I could hear a thick swallow followed by a throaty growl. “Neither. Well, more of the last one. I haven’t gotten laid since . . . You know what, never mind. I don’t want to talk about this, not here, not with you.”

  “Oh, come on!” Suddenly it felt like I was talking with Allie or Emilia. I wanted to trade war stories. “Besides, it can’t be longer than me.”

  “You’d be surprised,” he grumbled.

  “Really? Have you met anyone since you’ve been there?”

  “Don’t get too carried away. I haven’t exactly been celibate for a year, but let’s just say . . . I’ve been preoccupied, and working like a dog. I regret this decision every damn day and I can’t wait to come home.”

  If lovesickness had a tune, Sam was singing it. “Aww, Samuel. I wish I could give you a hug right now.”

  “Screw the hug, I can think of a few other things I wish you could give me right now.”

  “Yeah, okay. Head out of the gutter, Goodwin.” I laughed it off. “Anyway, when are you coming home? You put in the year, can’t you come back yet?”

  “It doesn’t work like that.” He let out an exasperated groan. “There’s a lot to think about and I’m trying to iron it all out because alls I know is, China’s been real but I’m ready to say bai bai.”

  I laughed at his attempt to perfect the accent, pitch and all. “Well, as long as I know you’re coming back, because this long distance shit sucks.”

  “Tell me about it,” he mused. “Seems
a lot longer than a year. I bet you even look different.”

  I glanced into the rear view mirror, remembering the highlights and haircut. “Nah, not much. Same old London with a new ’do.”

  “Don’t tell me you chopped off your hair!”

  “No.” I giggled as I ran my fingers through the long, lighter strands. “Just added some color. You’ll like it, if it doesn’t all grow out by the time you get your ass back here.”

  With the rocky start to our conversation long forgotten, we talked for a few more minutes, mostly about my mom and Sam’s plans for the weekend. He lived in the country with the largest population in world, but I could tell he was lonely too. If I had the money, I would have hopped on a plane to surprise him, bringing him a piece of home to tide him over until he came back. But I couldn’t leave Mom and I didn’t have the extra money to spend so frivolously. One could dream, though, and these late night, long distance phone calls had to suffice until I had the real thing. While I had plenty on my plate to keep me busy, what I really wanted was for something to go back to how it used to be.

  “Hey, Sam.” I yawned when I noticed the time had gotten away from us.

  “Yeah,”

  “Thanks for being my person.”

  “And thanks for being mine.”

  “I hope you work your stuff out sooner rather than later because I really miss you.”

  “I miss you, too.” He sighed. “Now, why don’t you go to sleep? You had an exciting day and it’s late.”

  “That’s a good idea,” I said as I fought through another yawn.

  “I’m sorry I got all big brother on you when you told me about your date.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I promise you I’m stronger than you think.”

  “I know you are and I’m proud of you.”

  “Aw, Samuel, thank you. That means a lot.”

  I ended the call with a bittersweet ache in my chest and hauled my weary bones out of the car. Step by step, I dragged my feet up the steps and to the front door. When I reached into my bag for my keys, I noticed an incoming text on my phone. I thought it would be Sam, apologizing again. But it wasn’t. It was an unknown number.

  I slid my thumb across the screen to open it and a tingle of excitement prickled my skin.

  Checking that you made it home safely. I had a great time tonight. Now, please store my number in your phone so I don’t have to keep chasing you, okay?

  It was Bryce. How sweet.

  I wasn’t sure how this whole dating thing worked nowadays, but since he texted me first, I assumed it was safe to text back.

  Home, safe and sound. Thank you for a wonderful night. Your number is finally in my phone now, but . . .

  I deliberated before typing the rest, my thumbs hovering over the keyboard until I finally decided what the hell.

  . . . I’m happy you chased me. It was well worth the wait ☺

  “NO YOU DIDN’T!” Allie gasped through the phone.

  “I so did.” I touched my lips, remembering. They still scorched at the thought of Bryce kissing them the night before.

  “London, you filthy whore.”

  “Whore?” I felt the blood drain from my face. “It was a heated kiss in the back of a movie theater. He didn’t even get past second base.”

  “Um . . . I know. I was joking.” Allie rectified her snide remark. “So, that was like what, date number three or four?”

  “Well, not counting the times I see him at the hospital, it was actually date number five. And get this, he sends these lavish floral arrangements to the salon the morning after every date. He really is the sweetest thing.” I was swooning like a gossipy teenager. My eyes danced around the lavender bedroom and I realized not much had changed since I was sixteen. Other than a decade and a divorce, of course.

  “And you still haven’t slept with him?” Her voice rose an octave. “London, you’re no whore, you’re a naïve nun.”

  “Al-lie!”

  “What? Don’t you know the three date rule?”

  “No!” I didn’t. I had no clue how the rules worked; that’s why I called her. I imagined dating in your twenties and thirties was a lot different than dating in high school.

  “Girl.” Allie lowered her tone and got down to business. “Get with it. You haven’t gotten any for a year. Aren’t you dying to get into that doctor’s scrubs?”

  I blushed at the thought. It had been too long.

  Am I ready for it?

  There was a time immediately after breaking up with Hunter when that need vanished, buried itself deep beneath the pain of grief. I wondered when it would return, or if it ever would. Now that I was dating Bryce, that need was back with a vengeance. I was definitely ready, just scared shitless.

  I cleared my throat and emptied a string of irrational concerns onto my single friend. “What if he hasn’t tried because he doesn’t want to? What if I’m terrible at it? What if I call out Hunter’s name in the middle of having sex with Bryce?”

  “Oh my God, London. Relax yourself.” Allie was laughing, but I knew she’d pull through. I couldn’t talk to Sam about this, and of all my friends, she had the most experience with men. She was still single and wasn’t looking to settle down anytime soon. I often envied her free-spirited, independent nature, but I wasn’t sure I could live that way. She dated at random and definitely paid no mind to that three date rule. I, on the other hand, was a one-man kind of woman. As in, I’d been with one man my entire life. And now there was Bryce. I wanted him, I was sure of that, but was I ready to take this to the next level? Were five dates enough? Did I truly know him well enough to give that part of me over to him?

  “Something’s burning,” Allie interrupted my crazy train of thought.

  “What? Are you cooking something?”

  “No! I’m talking about you! Your brain. I can smell it burning off those thoughts all the way from here.”

  I giggled. “Am I that transparent?”

  Allie cackled uncontrollably, obnoxious snorts and all. When she was finally done laughing at my expense, she continued with more sage advice. “Yes, but it’s okay. I know this is an adjustment for you, but you have to trust me—and your gut. I haven’t seen you this happy in a long damn time. Just run with that, okay?”

  She had a point. Bryce did make me happy. I had to stop overthinking and just . . . run with it, like she said. “I’m glad we had this chat. I couldn’t exactly talk to my mom, or Sam, about any of this.”

  “Oh!” She snorted again. “Those are two conversations I’d like a front row seat for.”

  “Yeah, wouldn’t that be—” My giggles were cut short by a loud crash coming from the kitchen.

  “London!”

  Shit! “Allie, I have to go. It’s my Mom. I’ll call you back.”

  I pressed the end button and flew downstairs, still clutching the phone. When I reached the bottom of the steps, I could see Mom had fallen, a plate of food and a mug of tea broken and splattered on the floor beside her.

  “Mom!” I rushed to her. “Are you okay? What happened?”

  “I don’t know. I felt . . . lightheaded.”

  I knelt down, inspecting her further. Her color was off. Her face was cold and clammy to the touch. Pulling her lids up higher, I noticed the whites of her eyes were darker—yellower—than usual. “Mom! I think it’s jaundice.” Shit, this isn’t good. “We have to go to the hospital.” I could take her or call 9–1-1. Or . . .”Bryce! I have to call Bryce!

  “Is she going to be okay?”

  I waited until I was outside of my mother’s hospital room to break down. She was finally stable but still hooked up to machines. The simple act of drawing in a breath exhausted her, and reports showed she was definitely not out of the woods.

  Worry wracked my brain, causing me to tremble.

  “London, calm down. She’ll be okay,” Bryce murmured, pulling me against his chest.

  Under different circumstances, I would not be hugging my mother’s doctor in the mid
dle of the ICU. But screw the formalities. I needed comfort and Bryce was here to offer it.

  “What does this mean? She was doing so well.” I pulled back, hoping to gauge honesty in his reaction. How could I decipher whether Bryce was placating me just to be kind or being truthful because that was his job? I still didn’t know him well enough to tell, not the way I knew Hunter’s every gesture.

  “London.” He eyed me sternly, all doctor-like, commanding my composure. “I have everything under control. This is very common in your mother’s stage of the disease. We’ll monitor her overnight and go from there, but in the meantime, getting yourself worked up is no good for you or for her.” Bryce caged my face in his warm hands, our noses inches apart. For a beat, I thought he was going to kiss me—this wasn’t the place, nor the time—but then he smiled, a bright, reassuring grin that reached all the way to his whiskey-colored eyes, his spider-leg-length lashes adding to the impressive package.

  “It’s been a trying day, beautiful.” It was hard to miss the way his tongue crept out to wet his lips when he spoke the endearment. It was hard to focus on anything but his proximity, even amidst beeping machines and the overhead noise of intercom pages. It was hard not to melt into a puddle at his feet and beg him to make this all better. But I had to be stronger than that. For Mom. For my dignity. For me.

  Using his reassuring gaze for strength, I took a deep breath and then peered down at the ground. Bryce quickly craned my head so our eyes met once again before taking charge. “I suggest you go in there, give her a kiss, and tell her she’s in good hands—because these are some excellent hands, baby.”

  That made me laugh. A moment of solace. I sniffled the sadness away and smiled back at him, thankful.

  He swiped his thumb under my eye, clearing away the last of the tears. “Go home and get some rest. Tomorrow’s a new day.”

  He sounded a lot like my mother. Ever so optimistic. “You two will get along great.” I slapped my mouth shut with my palm as soon as I realized what I said.

  Of course Bryce knew my mother because she was his patient, but my statement was very bold. It alluded to a future that was too soon to think about. “I-I didn’t mean anything by that, you know?”