And how do I even explain why I’m here?
“I had this idea that you needed a friend today, even if we can’t be together. But then I got here late and you had your family around you and didn’t need me.” I’m starting to babble, but I can’t stop. “But I also see now that I’m way out of my depth. And it’s okay because I get it now. I finally understand. I brought your sandwich, though, so you might want to eat it anyway.”
His lips are coasting over my cheekbone, causing goosebumps to break out all over my body. “You brought me a sandwich.”
“I thought you might need it.” And right then, I have a flash of insight. “Jason, did Lissa make the first sandwich for you?”
“She did. I should have told you that. I should have told you a lot of things. We need to talk,” he says.
“Okay.” I hate those words. But he’s still hugging me tightly. So at least I have that.
“I’m sorry I’ve been awful.”
“It’s all right. We can be friends. I meant that.”
“No, see, we can’t.”
My heart drops. “We can’t? Is it because we already had filthy, dirty, sex?”
“No.” He chuckles in my ear. “We can’t be just friends because you’re much more to me than that. Even if I’ve been too big of a punk to admit it. I’m still struggling, Heidi. November is always a rough month for me. But if you can give me another chance, I swear I’ll do a better job.”
“Of what, though?” I lean back and look him in the eye. “If you’re still in love with someone else, I’m not going to try to compete with that.”
“No.” He shakes his head. “See…” He sits down on the bench and takes my hand. I let him tug me down to sit beside him. “It’s like this—the part of me that’s still eighteen will always love an eighteen-year-old girl I once knew. And—this is the greater problem for me—I’ll always feel bad about not being there for her. But I’m not a teenager anymore.”
“You still carry her picture around in your gym bag,” I point out.
He winces. “Yeah, I think it’s time I put that in a drawer.”
“Not for my sake, though.”
“No,” he agrees quickly. “For mine. You proved to me that it’s time to move on. And I want to. With you. Because I love you.”
I take a deep breath and try to take that in. “You didn’t plan on loving me.”
“Nope!” he says cheerfully. “‘I love you against reason, against promise, against peace, against hope, against happiness, against all discouragement that could be.’”
Do not cry, I order myself. But who could resist a man who says things like that? “Is that Shakespeare?”
“Dickens,” he says. “The man was good at telling it to you straight. And he knew that the scary stuff was just the other side of the happiness coin.” He kisses my eyebrow. “I believe him now.”
“Well…” My tummy flutters. “I didn’t plan on loving you, either. But I do. You’re basically irresistible, except when you’re telling me what to do.”
He smiles at me, and his brown eyes look as warm and beautiful as ever. “Sometimes you don’t mind that.”
“True,” I admit. “It depends on whether we’re wearing clothes. But when we’re fully dressed, I need you to see me as an adult. Not a flighty child.”
“I do,” he says, kissing my ear. “I swear. Except when I think you’re in danger. But I’m working on that, okay? I promise. You can call me on it, too. And I’ll listen. We can start by calling this thing by what it is—a relationship.”
“Wow,” I say. “All right.” I nuzzle his warm cheek. “Does this mean we can keep having dirty, filthy sex?”
“You bet.” He kisses me then. And—jeez—his kisses are even better than his hugs. I’m leaning in for more when someone clears her throat.
I startle and find Georgia standing over us.
Whoops.
“I called us a car,” she says cheerfully. “So maybe you two want to take it down a notch until after tonight’s game?”
Jason chuckles while I turn red.
“Actually,” I say, as I stand up. “I have to find a hotel room. My flight home is tomorrow at eight in the morning.”
“You can bunk with me,” he says. “Georgia won’t rat us out to Coach, right?”
The publicist shrugs. “Leo and I aren’t saints, either. So I guess it would be hypocritical to turn you in. Let’s go, kids. I think that’s our car.”
Jason takes my hand as we stand up, and he holds it all the way to the hotel.
39
Heidi
That night I watch Brooklyn beat Minnesota. And then I sneak into Jason’s hotel room so the two of us can stay up half the night making out and talking.
“Will you please come home with me tomorrow?” he asks. “It’s not the same without you there.”
“I need to pay some rent,” I insist. “It’s not fair to Silas if I don’t.”
“Fine. We’ll work something out,” he says, kissing my neck. Then he rolls on top of me, and I forget all about paying rent.
Now I know how it feels to get everything I want.
No—wait. My wish list is still full of small and large dreams, some of them sparkly and expensive and some merely impractical. Wanting things is what keeps me alive and optimistic.
But now I know how it feels to get everything I actually need. I have a job (of sorts) with the possibility of a better one. And I have the love of a man who makes my heart go pitter-patter. Beyond his smoking-hot exterior, there’s a whole lot of good stuff in there. He’s loyal and passionate. And he quotes literature really well.
I’m so gone for him. As we stand at the luggage carousel the next day, waiting for our bags, I can’t keep my eyes off him. I’m like a cartoon character with hearts in its eyes.
Jason’s phone rings, and he answers it. “Hello?” As I watch, he frowns. Then he glances right at me. He covers the phone with his hand. “This is the weirdest call. This woman claims she’s calling from Belle Pepper’s Delivery Service.”
“Oh, she is!” I explain. “That’s my call center in India. I had to do some outsourcing so I could take this trip.”
“I got the same call a couple minutes ago,” Silas says, pulling his suitcase off the carousel.
Jason’s eyes soften. “Have I ever told you how formidable you are?”
“Not lately,” I say in a teasing voice. “Tell me now.”
“Jesus,” Silas complains. “I’m going to need my own cab home, aren’t I? Can you two keep it PG-rated for another half hour?”
“No,” Jason says, just at the same moment that I say, “Yes.”
“But I have to go to Manhattan,” I confess. “I took all my stuff to my dad’s condo. I didn’t know where else to go.”
Jason plucks my bag off the conveyor belt and then puts a hand over his eyes. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault that you packed up and left.”
“It’s okay,” I assure him, stepping in to hug him. “You can make it up to me tonight.”
“Check, please,” Silas says, rolling his suitcase away from us.
Jason kisses me on the nose. “Tell you what. Let’s take a car into Manhattan and get your stuff.”
“Really? You have time for that?”
“For you? Absolutely.” His lips brush mine, and I can’t help kissing him again.
Someone makes a gagging noise, and we don’t even stop.
Somehow we keep it PG in the taxi. When we reach East 78th Street, the cab can’t even get close to the building, because there are news vans in front of Dad’s high rise.
“Just another day in Manhattan,” Jason says. “I wonder which movie star just made the papers? Let’s get out here.”
He pulls our luggage from the trunk, and off we go down the crowded sidewalk.
“Staying overnight?” the doorman asks as we roll two suitcases into my father’s building.
“No, can I park these with you?” I ask him.
“Of course, Miss Pepper! Anything for your family. Give my regards to your parents.” He wrings his hands, which is a little strange.
“Parents?” Jason asks in the elevator. “Like, plural?”