Last night I dreamt Jake showed up with a date. A tall redhead with a French accent and black Louboutin heels.
Who goes to explore caves in high heels?
Or…better yet…who shows up for a date with a date?
I was covered in sweat when I woke up, but I’m not sure if it was because Jake showed up in my dream with a date or because Warren and Bridgette shared one body with two heads. Both aspects of my dream were equally disturbing.
I don’t know if it’s my dream that has me so shaken, or if it’s the fact that I’ve yet to have a conversation with Jake about the dynamics of our group, but I’m standing at the bathroom sink trying to brush my teeth, and my hand is visibly shaking.
I want to be able to talk to Jake before he meets everyone, but he’ll be here in half an hour, and I can’t very well call him minutes before he arrives and say, “Oh, by the way, you’re about to hang out with my ex-boyfriend today. Both my ex-boyfriends, actually. It’ll be fun!”
I should have cancelled.
I almost did when I woke up after the nightmare I had last night. I had an excuse all typed out in a text to him about why I needed to cancel, but I was too scared to send it. He’d see right through it. I’ve been unreliable one too many times with him, and pushing him away again would probably be the last contact he’d have with me. Besides, in our conversation last night, he said he wants consistency. I don’t want our consistency to be me pushing him away. I want it to be me following through with him. I just have to get him alone somehow before he meets Warren or Ridge. He deserves to know what he’s getting into before he walks into this apartment.
If I could get him from the front door to my bedroom without him meeting anyone, it would give us a few minutes alone to reacquaint ourselves without standing in the danger zone that is the communal living room of this apartment.
That’s what I’ll do. I’ll somehow drag him to my room before introductions.
As soon as I finish brushing my teeth, I dry my mouth with a hand towel and stare at my reflection. Other than the absolute fear in my eyes, I look like I usually do. I return my toothbrush to my toiletry bag, just as Bridgette swings open the bathroom door that leads to their room. She pauses when she sees me. I pause when I see her.
It’s always been awkward between us, but we’ve never had to share a bathroom before, so the fact that she’s in her barely there underwear takes awkward to a whole new level. For me, anyway. She doesn’t seem bothered that I’m seeing her nearly nude, because she walks straight to the toilet and pulls down her panties to pee.
She’s just as uninhibited as Warren.
“So,” Bridgette says, unrolling toilet paper into her hand. “Does this guy realize what he’s getting into?”
“What do you mean?”
She waves a hand in a circle. “You know. This whole group he’s about to spend the day with. Does he know the history?”
I close my eyes for a second, breathing in steadily. “Not yet,” I say, exhaling.
Bridgette does something she rarely does. She grins.
No…she smiles. A huge, excited smile that reveals all her perfect white teeth. She should smile more often. She has a great smile, although it’s appearing at an odd moment.
“Why do you look so happy?” I ask with caution.
“It’s just been so long since I’ve been this excited about something.”
I look away from her without responding and glance back at my own reflection. I look pale. I can’t tell if it’s because I’m nervous or if my blood sugar levels are off. Sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference between low blood sugar, high blood sugar, or the onset of a panic attack.
I leave the bathroom and walk to the kitchen. My purse is on the counter, so I dig through it until I find my glucose monitor kit. I lean against the counter while I check my blood sugar. As soon as I insert the test strip into the monitor, the front door begins to open.
Ridge and Sydney walk into the apartment, hand in hand. Sydney greets me and Ridge nods, then signs to Sydney that he’s going to shower. On his way to his bedroom, though, he does a double take when he sees the testing kit in my hands. His forehead naturally creases with worry.
“I’m fine,” I sign. “Just wanted to check it before we leave to be safe.” Relief floods his expression. “How long before we leave?”
I shrug. “No rush. Jake isn’t even here yet.”
He nods and heads to his bedroom. Sydney sets her purse on the bar next to mine and opens a cabinet, grabbing a bag of tortilla chips.
My glucose levels are in the normal range. I sigh, relieved, then put the kit
back in my purse. I grab my phone and open up my texts with Jake. We had a quick conversation this morning. I sent him the address to our apartment, and half an hour later he responded with a text that said, Conference over. On my way.
That was almost an hour ago. Which means he’ll be knocking on the door any minute now.
“You okay?” Sydney asks.
I look up from my phone. She’s leaning against the counter, staring at me with concern as she munches on chips. “You look a little nervous,” she adds.
Is it that obvious? “I do?”
She nods softly, as if she’s trying not to offend me with her observation.
I wasn’t even this nervous when I woke up this morning from my nightmare. But as the hours progress, so does my regret. I wring my hands together as I glance toward Ridge’s and Warren’s bedroom doors to make sure they’re closed. I look back at Sydney once I’m positive she’s the only one in my vicinity. “I’ve picked up my phone to cancel at least three times this morning, but I was never able to hit send on the texts. I just know there’s no way he could possibly enjoy today. I don’t even know why I invited him. I was so flustered when he called back yesterday that I didn’t think any of this through.”
Sydney tilts her head and smiles at me reassuringly. “It’ll be fine, Maggie. He obviously likes you or he wouldn’t have agreed to drive all the way here and spend time with people he doesn’t even know.”
“That’s the problem,” I say. “He does like me. But he likes a version of me that’s confident and independent and has one-night stands. He hasn’t hung out with the insecure version of me who is living on a mattress on the floor of the spare bedroom of my ex-boyfriend’s apartment.”
Sydney dismisses my comment with a flippant wave of her hand. “For one more day. You’re moving out tomorrow, and you’ll be independent and in your own place again.”
I shrug. “Even still. It doesn’t change the fact that I’ve been an emotional toddler for most of the past couple of weeks.” I let my head fall back, and I groan. “I’ve been so hot and cold with him. He probably only agreed to today because he’s hoping I’ll impress him enough so that he can forget about all the times I was unimpressive.”
Sydney sets down the bag of chips. She rolls her eyes and walks up to me, placing her hands on my shoulders. She backs me up against a barstool, keeping her hands on my shoulders as she forces me to sit. “Do you know what I did for the first two weeks of living here?”
I shake my head.
“I cried every day. I cried because my life was shit and I cried because I got fired from the library for having an emotional breakdown and throwing
books at the wall. And sure, I got better for a while. But a few months later, when I moved out and got my own place, I cried every day for weeks again.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because,” she says, releasing my shoulders and standing up straight. “I was all over the place with my emotions for months on end. But every time I saw you, you were the epitome of strength. Even the day you found out about me and Ridge, I was so intimidated by your resolve. And…maybe even a little impressed. But you seem to be forgetting about all of that, and instead, you’re focusing on a few bad days you’ve had.” She reaches down and grabs my hands, looking at me with an expression full of sincerity. “No one is the best version of themselves all the time, Maggie. But what creates the difference between confidence and insecurity are the moments in our past that we choose to obsess over. You’re obsessing over your shittiest moments when you should be obsessing over the better ones.”
I haven’t been around her a whole lot, but when I am around her, she impresses me more and more with how right she always is. I put a lot of weight on that as I cycle through a couple of breaths. I begin to nod. I’ve definitely had some unremarkable moments. So has she. So has Ridge. So have Warren and Bridgette. And…even though he seems perfect…Jake has had moments in his past when he hasn’t been perfect. And I’m sure if I knew about his imperfect moments, I wouldn’t hold them against him for a second. Which means he probably doesn’t hold my indecisiveness against me like I’ve been worried he might. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be knocking on the door right now.
Oh, God. He’s knocking.
“Oh, God,” I say out loud.
Sydney glances at the door and then back at me. “You want me to answer
it?”
I shake my head. “No. I’ll do it.”
She waits for me to stand, but I don’t. I just stare at the door, unmoving. “Maggie.”
“I know. I just… I don’t think I’m ready for introductions yet. Can you…” She nods, pulling me out of my chair. “I’ll disappear,” she agrees. “You
answer the door.”
Sydney gives me a quick shove toward the door as she rushes off toward Ridge’s bedroom. Jake knocks again, and I’m scared if I don’t open the door right away, Warren will walk out of his bedroom to answer the door. Or worse…Bridgette.
That thought swings me into action. I open the front door, and Jake is here, standing right in front of me. He’s taller than I remember. Cuter. I suck in a breath at the sight of him, but I don’t give myself time to give him the onceover. I grab his hand and pull him inside the apartment and across the
living room. I don’t release his hand until we’re safely alone in my bedroom. I turn and shut the door behind us, leaning my forehead against it. I blow out a breath, still facing the door. I’m slightly more at ease now that we’re out of the danger zone, but still nervous as hell as I slowly turn and face him.
He’s standing a couple of feet in front of me, looking down at me like he’s trying not to laugh.
God, he’s cute. He’s wearing jeans and a navy blue graphic T-shirt with an anatomically correct heart on the front of it. Funny. I stare at the shirt for a moment, admiring how good he looks in it. Then I look him in the eye and stand up a little straighter. I clear my throat.
“Hi,” I say.
He tilts his head a bit, curiosity clouding his expression. He’s probably wondering why I rushed him into this room like there were zombies chasing us. “Hello, Maggie.” I can see all the questions he isn’t asking as he narrows his eyes, lifting a brow.
“Sorry. I just wanted a minute alone with you before introductions.”
He smiles, and I just want to sink to the floor. Not because his smile melts me, but because I’m so embarrassed about the conversation I’m about to have with him. I’m embarrassed by the condition of this bedroom. I’m embarrassed that he’s a doctor who seems to have all his shit together, whereas my life is currently akin to a broke college co-ed’s, living in a sparse dorm room.
Jake’s hands slide into his back pockets and he glances around the room— at the mattress on the floor. He looks back at me. “Is this your bedroom?”
“Just until tomorrow. All my stuff is in a U-Haul downstairs. I’m moving to another unit in the complex.”
He laughs a little, like he’s relieved to know I own more than just a pathetic mattress pushed against the wall of an empty room. He’s a few feet away from me, but I still have to look up at him. I suck in a shaky breath after I respond to him. He notices.
“You seem nervous,” he says. “I am,” I admit.
He smiles at my honesty. “Me, too.” “Why?” I blurt out.
He shrugs. “Same reasons you are, I assume.”
I know for a fact we aren’t nervous for the same reasons. “Please,” I say, rolling my eyes with a laugh. “You’re a cardiologist raising a half-grown child. I’m just a college student with roommates, sleeping on a mattress on the floor of an empty room. I can assure you we are not nervous for the same reasons.”
Jake stares at me a moment, contemplating my words. “Are you saying you feel inferior to me?”
I nod. “Just a little,” I lie. Because I feel a lot inferior to him.
He releases a quick laugh, but he doesn’t respond. He just takes a step away from me and looks around the room again, turning his back to me. His focus falls on my mattress for a moment. He looks back at me over his shoulder and then half-turns, reaching out his hand.
I look down at his hand, beckoning for mine. I slide my hand into his, admiring the strength behind his grip as he closes his fingers around mine. He pulls me with him, walking toward the mattress.
He sits down, scooting to the middle of the mattress, resting his back against the wall. He still has a grip on my hand, so he pulls on it, urging me to follow suit. As soon as I begin to kneel, he pulls one of my legs over his lap so that I’m straddling him.
Not what I was expecting.
We’re almost eye to eye, but I haven’t relaxed yet, so I’m slightly taller than him in this position. He leans his head back against the wall, looking up at me.
“There,” he says, smiling gently. “Now, you’re in a position of control. It should make you a little less nervous.”
He rests his hands on my waist. I feel some of the tension leave my shoulders when I realize what he just did. I smile as I’m reminded how patient and kind he is. He returns my smile, and I suddenly feel like melting to the floor again, but not out of embarrassment. This time I want to melt because he’s so damn perfect, and it’s making me blush.
Also, I can’t help but be relieved that he didn’t show up with a high- heeled French redhead. I exhale. “Thank you. This helps.”
He breaks eye contact and finds my hands, threading his fingers through them. “You’re welcome.”
Now that I’ve relaxed a little, I lower my legs until our thighs are flush together. We’re eye to eye now, and I feel stupid for how nervous I’ve been. I forgot how everything about him is so calming. He’s been a calming presence since the moment we met and I was scared to death to skydive until he sat down next to me fill out my paperwork. His presence is like a sedative, flowing through my veins, taming my thoughts and my worries. In a matter of minutes, the fear in my eyes has been subdued, and now I’m forcing myself not to grin. He makes me feel somewhat giddy, but I don’t want him to know that.
“How was your lecture this morning?” I ask, hoping to direct the subject toward him.
Jake laughs a little. “Justice told me I shouldn’t go into doctor mode when I’m around you. He says I’m boring when I talk about medical stuff.”
That couldn’t be further from the truth. “Our medical talk was the highlight of our date for me. It’s the first time anyone has ever been that interested in the details of my thesis.”
Jake narrows his eyes. “Really?”
I nod. “Yes, really. You probably shouldn’t take dating advice from an eleven-year-old.”
Jake laughs at that. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” He brings my hands to his chest and places them there, moving his own hands to the tops of my thighs. “We had a speaker who is about to have a new study published in the Journal of Medical Science. He presented about communication signals between the brain and the heart and what happens when those signals are severed.”
Yeah, Justice is definitely wrong. I absolutely want to hear this. “And?”
Jake leans his head back against the wall again, relaxing a little. He lifts one of my hands off his chest and brings it up between us. “In ancient times, humans believed the heart was at the center of all thought process and that the brain and heart didn’t communicate at all.” He touches my wrist with two gentle fingers. “They believed this, because when you feel an attraction to someone, your brain doesn’t respond in a noticeable way that would suddenly make you aware of that attraction. But the rest of the body does.” Jake begins to move his fingers in a delicate circle over my wrist. I swallow heavily, hoping he doesn’t notice what it’s doing to my pulse.
“The heart is what makes a person most aware of physical attraction. It increases in speed. It begins to beat harder against the walls of the chest. It creates an erratic pulse whenever you’re around the person you’re attracted to.”
It’s quiet as he presses his fingers firmly against my wrist, waiting several seconds before he begins to speak. He grins a little, and I know it’s because my pulse has changed so much since we started this particular conversation.
“It doesn’t feel like that attraction is being manifested in the brain,” he says, pressing his other hand right over my heart. “It feels like it’s developing right here. Right behind the walls of your chest, in the very core of the organ that goes haywire.”
Jesus Christ. He pulls his hand from my chest and releases my wrist. He lowers his hands to my waist, gripping gently.
“We’re aware the heart doesn’t retain or produce actual emotion. The heart is simply a messenger, receiving signals directly from the brain that let the heart know when an attraction is present. The heart and the brain are in sync because they are both vital and they work as a team. When the heart begins to die, a flurry of signals is sent from the brain, which ultimately causes the demise of the heart. And in turn, lack of oxygen from the heart is ultimately what causes the demise of the brain. One organ cannot survive without the other.” He grins. “Or so we thought. In today’s lecture, we learned that a new study proves that if communication between the heart and brain is severed in the minutes before death, an animal lives up to three times as long
as those whose heart-brain connection is still left intact. Which, if proven correct, means that when the chemical connection is severed between the two organs, one doesn’t immediately know when the other begins to die because they’re unable to communicate. Therefore…if the heart begins to die and the brain is unaware, it gives doctors more time to save the heart before the brain begins to shut down. And vice versa.”
I could honestly listen to him talk like this all day. “Are you saying that the heart and the brain might actually be detrimental to one another?”
He nods once. “Yep. It’s almost as if they communicate too well. The study suggested that if we can make one organ temporarily oblivious to the failing of the other organ, we may be able to save them both.”
“Wow,” I say. “That’s…fascinating.”
Jake smiles. “It is. I thought about it the entire drive over. Essentially, if we could figure out how to sever some of the communication between the heart and brain in non life-or-death situations, we could likely make it so that attraction wouldn’t manifest physically in a person.”
I shake my head. “But…why would a person not want to feel the full extent of an attraction?”
“Because,” he says, matter-of-fact. “That way when a doctor develops an intense attraction to a girl he meets while skydiving, his mind wouldn’t be completely distracted for every minute of the two weeks that follow, and he might actually be able to focus on his job instead of thoughts of her.”
His words make me blush so heavily, I immediately lean forward and lower my head to his shoulder so that he can’t see my reaction. He laughs at my response, running a hand up my back and into my hair. He presses a quick kiss to the side of my head.
I eventually pull back and look down on him. Everything he just said makes me want to lower my head again, but this time I want to lower it so that my mouth is positioned right against his. I refrain, though. Somehow.
He inhales and loses some of the smile in his eyes, trading it for a more serious expression. His hands slide up and then back down my arms. “I came back to the hospital to see you Saturday, but you were already gone,” he admits.
I close my eyes briefly. I wondered if he showed back up.
I don’t want to admit to him that I left before I should have. But I don’t want to lie to him, or even omit the truth. “I left Friday night. Before they discharged me.” I look him in the eyes, needing to explain myself before he passes judgment. “I know you’re a doctor and you’re going to tell me it was a stupid move, but I already know that. I just couldn’t take being there for another second.”
He stares back at me for a quiet moment, but he doesn’t look angry or annoyed. He just shakes his head softly. “I get it. I have patients who
practically live in hospitals, and I know how draining it is, both emotionally and physically. Sometimes I want to look the other way and tell them to run because I know how much they don’t want to be there.”
I have no immediate reply to that because it’s not a reaction I’m used to. I love that he didn’t scold me just now. But I’m sure he sees patients with all different levels of frustration, so it would make sense that he’d be more empathetic than disapproving.
Jake lifts a hand to my hair and twists his fingers in a few strands of it. He stares at my hair as it slides through his fingers. When our eyes meet again, I can tell he’s about to kiss me. His eyes drop briefly to my mouth. But I can’t allow that until I explain to him the real reason for most of my nerves today.
“I need to tell you something,” I say. I’m hesitant to bring it up, but he’s here, and he’s about to meet everyone, and he needs to know what he’s getting into. He looks back at me patiently as I continue. “This is Ridge’s apartment. My ex-boyfriend that I told you about on our date?”
Jake gives no hint of a response in his expression, so I continue, glancing away from him and down at our hands. I lace our fingers together. “Ridge and his girlfriend Sydney are going with us today. So are Warren and Bridgette, who are the other two roommates here. You’ll meet them all in a little while. I just… It’s why I wanted you to come to my room before meeting them, so if our history is brought up today, you won’t be caught off guard.” I make eye contact with him again, releasing a pent-up breath. “Does that bother you?”
Jake doesn’t answer right away. I don’t blame him, so I give him a moment to process everything I just said. It’s a weird situation that I probably shouldn’t have put him in.
“Does it bother you?” he asks, squeezing my hands.
I shake my head. “We’re friends now. I really like Sydney. I feel like all of us are exactly where we need to be, but after I invited you here, I became paranoid that maybe I shouldn’t have. I don’t want it to be awkward.”
Jake lifts a hand, sliding it against my cheek. His fingers graze the back of my head as he looks at me intently. “If it doesn’t bother you, then it doesn’t bother me,” he says with finality.
His quick acceptance makes me smile with relief, even though I fail to tell him that it is very awkward for me.
Sydney is wrong. Some people are the best versions of themselves all the time.
That thought fills me with immediate guilt, because there’s so much more to the situation than what I just admitted to Jake. He has no idea that Warren and Ridge are basically the only family I have. But I don’t want to put too much on him at once. Not until we know for sure that this thing between us might actually go somewhere beyond today. I honestly don’t know that I want it to until he has a clear idea of who I am, but I have no idea where to start.
He spent one of my better days with me, but he hasn’t gotten to know all of me yet. He knows I’m spontaneous and indecisive, but what else does he actually know?
“I’m fickle,” I blurt out. “And sometimes I can be selfish.” I know I should shut up, but the blunt honesty feels warranted. He needs to know exactly what he’s dealing with. I don’t want to experience another relationship with someone I’m not completely up front and open with. “I have a rebellious streak that I’m really trying to work on. I sometimes spend entire days binge- watching Netflix in my underwear. I’ve lived alone most of my adult life, so I eat ice cream out of the tub and drink straight out of the milk carton. I’ve never wanted children of my own. I kind of want a cat, but I’m too scared of the responsibility. I love show tunes and Hallmark Christmas movies and I absolutely hate Austin traffic. And I know none of that really matters because we aren’t even dating, but I feel like you should know all those things about me up front.” When I’m finished, I bite my bottom lip nervously, waiting for him to either laugh at me or run. I’d completely understand either reaction.
He reacts in a completely different way than what I expect. He sighs and tilts his head a little, resting our hands against his chest. His thumbs brush back and forth over mine.
“I internalize everything negative that happens at work,” he says. “I need solitude on the really bad days. Sometimes even from Justice. And…I’m messy. I haven’t done dishes in four days or laundry in two weeks. Most doctors are organized and their houses are spotless, but mine is chaotic most of the time. And I probably shouldn’t admit this because I’m a cardiologist, but I love fried food. I’ve watched every episode of Grey’s Anatomy, although I’ll deny it if you ever repeat that. And…I’ve only been with two women, so I don’t even know that I’m all that impressive in bed.”
The fact that he just admitted all that makes me feel like I might get a little emotional, but luckily, the last part of his admission makes me laugh. “You’re impressive, Jake. Trust me.”
He arches a brow. “Am I?”
I nod, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks just thinking about it.
“Can you be more specific?” he teases. “What was your favorite part?”
I think back on our night together, and honestly, all of it was great. But if I had to narrow it down to a favorite moment, I know exactly which one it is. “The second time. When you kept your eyes open and watched me while we…” My voice trails off. I can’t even finish that sentence.
Jake stares at me very seriously for a moment. His hands cover mine completely. “That was my favorite part, too.”
I duck my head a little, breaking eye contact with him. Not because I’m nervous anymore, but because I’m trying to prevent myself from kissing him.
He reaches out and slides his hand to the nape of my neck, pulling my
gaze back to his. His other hand slides around to my lower back, pulling me closer. “There were a lot of parts I liked about that night.” He smiles as he inches his mouth closer to mine. “I liked undressing you as we stood next to your bed,” he whispers, right before he presses his lips to mine.
I close my eyes, completely weakened by his kiss, but he pulls back.
“And I liked it when I lowered you to the bed.” His lips lightly feather mine and I feel him shift as he leans forward and lowers me to the mattress. I’m no longer in the position of control, but I don’t mind it. My eyes feel heavy when I open them, looking up at him while he hovers over me. “And I really liked it the next morning when I woke up and you were wrapped around me so tight, it took me ten minutes to sneak out of the bed without waking you.”
I open my mouth slightly, preparing a response, but he doesn’t allow it. He dips his head and kisses me. As soon as his lips close over mine, I’m reminded of everything I felt the first time he kissed me. I don’t know how I was able to deny him even once, much less twice.
Sometimes I’m impressed by my own strength, because right now, there’s no way I could choose anything else over this kiss. I don’t even care if we leave this room today, because his tongue has found mine and my hands are sliding through his hair and why can’t I be in my own apartment already? I’m conscious of every noise I want to make right now.
Luckily, he stops it before more parts of us get involved in this make-out session than simply our mouths. He kisses me softly, twice, before pressing his cheek to mine and releasing a heavy sigh into my hair.
I sigh right along with him, realizing that we’re going to have to leave this room at some point. “I guess I should introduce you to my roommates now.”
His gaze scrolls my face for a moment. “Yeah. I guess so.”
I swallow, feeling the nerves start to build as I think about him meeting everyone. Specifically Warren. “Can you promise me something?”
Jake nods.
“Don’t judge me too harshly based on a couple of my roommates. Warren’s sole purpose today will be to embarrass me as much as he possibly can.”
Jake’s mouth breaks out into a devilish grin. “Oh, I can’t wait to meet him now.”
I roll my eyes and push against his chest. Jake rolls off me and onto his back. I stand up and straighten out my shirt, but he remains on the bed, staring up at me with an unusual expression.
“What?” I ask, wondering why he looks so…satiated.
