Roped In (Strings Book 2) Page 3

  Hours later, we’d finished Bridget Jones’ Edge of Reason, a second mug of hot chocolate, and the entire bag of Milanos. We were about halfway through Bridget Jones’ Baby, and I could feel my eyes getting heavy when I heard a lock turn in the front door.

  Cat and I were cozied together on the couch under a big fleece blanket when her husband Brody walked around the couch to look at us, a big, easy grin on his face.

  His blonde hair looked messy like he’d run his hair through it a bunch of times and his gray eyes were shining like he’d maybe had one too many drinks. He was also wearing a really tight button down and when I glanced over at Cat, she was totally checking him out.

  “You two look so cute.”

  Yep, definitely drunk.

  “Hey, baby,” Cat said, sitting up and smiling back at her man. “You’re home early.”

  “It’s almost midnight, and as much as Gabe loves you, I think he was sick of hearing me talk about you.”

  Gabe Keaton was Brody’s best friend, who also happened to be Catrina’s cousin. He and Brody had been on the soccer team together at Klein, and Gabe had gone on to play professional soccer while Brody went to grad school for creative writing. A few months ago, Gabe had gotten a bad injury and despite his young age had been forced to retire from professional soccer. Cat told me he was still devastated but trying to put on a brave face, so I was sure Brody’s night with him was as much to try and cheer up his friend as it was just to spend some time with him.

  Brody nudged his way onto the couch so that Catrina was in between him and I, and he leaned over to look at me.

  “Hi, Talia.”

  I chuckled. “Hey, Brody. Did you guys have fun?”

  “Not as much fun as you two,” he said, gesturing to the pizza and cookies and glasses littered on the coffee table.

  Catrina snuggled up to him, wrapping her arms around his waist as he lifted an arm around her shoulder.

  “How’s Gabe?” she asked, seeming to not even register how easily she’d wrapped herself around her husband like it was so routine that it was part of her.

  “He’s okay,” Brody said, looking a little sadder. “He misses playing. Hell, I miss it, too, sometimes, but he’s getting better.”

  Catrina was staring up at Brody and he was looking down at her as they talked about Gabe. Catrina and Brody always did this. They always unintentionally got lost in their own world. I knew they didn’t do it on purpose, and if I ever said anything to Catrina, she would apologize profusely and try to change her behavior, but it was like for several moments, the world around them ceased to exist. They entered into this bubble that was just the two of them, their shared language, their shared movement, their shared air. And nothing could pull them from it.

  When we left Klein and Cat and Brody slipped into their honeymoon phase, I always thought that things would ease up with their obsession with each other, with their weird connectedness and their googly eyes. Somehow, though, the bond and the love and the honeymoon and the googlies had only gotten stronger as time went on. They got more connected, fell more in love, slipped into the bubble even easier than they had before.

  Part of me wanted to make gagging noises and joke about how lovey dovey they were, but the other part of me never wanted to break this spell they fell into. It felt sacred somehow. Sometimes I would go crazy thinking about how badly I wanted what they had.

  Other times I knew I would never be brave enough to get it.

  Rather than try and break the spell, I got up to the go to the bathroom. As I was walking down the hall I heard Cat murmur all dreamily, “You smell so good. Like beer and Old Spice.” The gagging noises won out and I shouted, “get a room!” over my shoulder before closing the bathroom door to the sounds of their laughter.

  After going to the bathroom, I splashed some water on my face and stared at my reflection. I didn’t know if I would say that I was pretty. I definitely wasn’t as pretty as Catrina, who had long, beautiful red hair, and a bone structure I would literally kill for. But I was attractive in a sort of girl-down-the-block way. I had a heart-shaped face and full red lips I got from my mom’s Puerto Rican side of the family, but while my mom’s eyes were a dark, deep brown, she always told me my eyes looked just like my dad’s. Caramel-colored, almost with a golden yellow tinge, and almond shapes that tilted slightly upwards at the sides giving me what dudes always called an “exotic” look, a term that I loathed.

  When I looked in the mirror, I tried to imagine what Jack might see when he looked at me. Would he find me attractive? Would he wish I was ten pounds lighter in my thighs and ass like I’d been in college? Or would there be something he liked? Maybe even something he wanted to see more of.

  I shook my head vigorously, trying to shake the thoughts out of my head before I went back to Cat and Brody’s living room.

  Only to find my friend and her husband right in the middle of a pretty intense makeout session.

  “So, yeah, I’m gonna head out.”

  Cat practically leapt off Brody, who looked dazed and like he hardly knew where he was.

  “Oh, my god, Talia, I’m so sorry. Please don’t go. I’ll make Brody go in our room so we can finish the movie.”

  I just shook my head with a smile.

  “Nah, don’t worry about it. You two crazy kids have fun.”

  I gathered up my stuff and when Cat walked me to the door she was frowning.

  “Tal, I’m really sorry. I don’t want you to think I tried to cut our girls’ night short for some dude.”

  “Um, that ‘some dude’ happens to be your husband,” I said, arching an eyebrow at her.

  She shrugged with a small smile. “Sisters before misters.”

  “You’re such a dork.”

  Her smile widened before it fell a bit. “Seriously, Talia. You aren’t mad?”

  “No.”

  “You’d tell me if you were, right?”

  “Have you ever known me not to tell you when you’re being an asshole?” Catrina laughed and shook her head, and I said, “Plus, it’s after midnight. I’m exhausted and I have to work early in the morning.”

  “Okay, fine.”

  Catrina pulled me into a big hug and held me for what I thought was a few seconds longer than she normally would have. When she pulled back, she kept her hands on my arms.

  “Call me on Sunday after the lunch, okay?” she said, her voice quiet so Brody wouldn’t hear. “I want to hear everything that happened.”

  “Okay.”

  “Everything!” she hissed. “Word for word. Don’t forget a thing.”

  Yeah, I definitely won’t.

  “Okay!”

  “Okay.”

  She gave me another quick hug, and I pushed her off me.

  “Okay, go bang your drunk husband.”

  She smirked. “I’m totally gonna take advantage of him.”

  I practically guffawed at her words. “Yeah, from the way he’s been staring at your ass the entire time we’ve been standing here, I don’t think there will be any advantage taken.” I looked over her shoulder. “Bye, Brody.”

  He looked up from Cat’s ass. “Bye, Talia!” He waved happily. “Come over any time.”

  As I walked out into the night, I couldn’t help but love those two loons.

  Chapter 4

  Istood in an alleyway a block away from the Green Hornet until 12:22. Jack and I were scheduled to have lunch at noon.

  I’d watched him go in at 11:54 from my stalkery spot down the block. I’d panicked until 12:05, played a game on my phone, panicked when I saw it was 12:11 when I checked again, and then I’d called Catrina who’d calmly and supportively told me I was an idiot and to just go inside.

  I pushed into the doors of the Green Hornet at 12:23, and I stopped in the doorway for a full minute just taking in the sight of Jack.

  He was just as gorgeous as he’d been six years ago, more gorgeous than his Facebook photos showed. His dark hair was long on top just like in the picture o
f him and his ex-fiancée. The sleeves of his long-sleeved Henley were shoved up to his biceps, making his arms look deliciously huge.

  I always said I didn’t have a type. I liked big, muscular, preppy guys like Jack. I liked thin, edgy hipsters like Isaac. I liked pudgy nerds. I liked jocks. I liked them old, young, any race, any occupation. As long as I felt that spark, I was into him. But Jack… If I had a type, my type would be Jack Harding.

  Even looking at him rang every single one of my bells. Although he was sitting, I could see he was—like I’d suspected from his photos—even more cut than in college. He looked more mature—aged, but in that distinguished way that only men could age.

  I drank in every bit of him, knowing I couldn’t—shouldn’t—admire him when he could catch me doing so, and as I moved toward the table he was at in the corner, I watched as he glanced at his watch—Jesus, I loved a man who wore a wrist watch—and then looked up in the direction of the door.

  His entire face shifted when he saw me. The way his expression went from mildly worried and annoyed to joyfully content in the span of three seconds made my heart stop. Despite all the shit I’d put him through, dragging him along when I knew how he felt and I knew I wouldn’t change my mind—even though I was too greedy to give him up the way I knew I should long before I actually did, he still lit up when he laid eyes on me the way he always had. The memories of him assaulted me—of him grinning when he saw me walk into a bar, when he opened the door to his apartment and saw me standing over the threshold, the day at Marmaduke’s—a diner just off campus—during the spring festival when I knew I couldn’t keep doing this to him and he looked up and saw me walking back to our table with two iced mochas. He still looked at me that way.

  He still looked at me like he only had eyes for me.

  “Talia.”

  “Hi,” I was barely able to get out.

  I hadn’t fully appreciated what seeing him would do to me. I felt winded and overwhelmed. I felt like I couldn’t breathe, like if I spoke I might do something idiotic like start crying.

  “I thought you weren’t coming,” he said when he stood to greet me.

  “The Red Line was delayed,” I lied. “Sorry I’m late.”

  We were standing next to the table where he’d been sitting. He towered over me as he stood close, looking down to meet my eyes. I didn’t know what to do. I desperately wanted him to hug me, but I was afraid it would kill me if he did.

  “It’s okay,” he said quietly. Almost reverently. Fuck, I didn’t know if I could do this. Jack had always been awful at hiding his feelings. He had never wanted to. Not like me. I was a fucking pro at it. I was so practiced at hiding how I really felt that I was even able to hide my feelings from myself. Not Jack. Jack was open and honest and true to himself to the end, which was proven by his next words that nearly gutted me. “I’m really glad you’re here, Talia. God, I missed you,” he finished on a heavy breath.

  Before I could think better of it, I reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck. He responded immediately, bending slightly to put his arms around my waist. He held me so tightly that I went up to my tiptoes. I inhaled deeply, my face in the crook of his neck, and I felt the tears sting the backs of my eyes when I realized he smelled exactly the same. He still smelled like the piney aroma of either his soap or deodorant with the combined smell that was just him, just the delicious scent that lingered on his skin and his alone.

  I couldn’t tell him the truth—that I missed him, too, with a fierceness I hadn’t realized until this moment—but I could do this. I could put my arms around him and breathe him in until it became inappropriate in a public space.

  “You smell the same,” he whispered in my ear, his breath tickling me and turning me on as he echoed my thoughts. It was like we’d had no time apart. He was still the same Jack. I was still the same Talia. We could have been standing inside Marmaduke’s holding onto each other after another one of our fights about where we were going and how he wanted more. It was so familiar in his arms, so right, so vital.

  Once, when Catrina and I had been sitting on her couch, late at night, just talking about everything and nothing, she’d said—quietly, like a prayer—that being in Brody’s arms was like coming home. I didn’t know what she meant, didn’t know what it was like to have another person be so necessary that their existence felt so safe that it was like the peace and purity of being home. I had no idea what she meant until now, standing in the middle of the Green Hornet with Jack’s arms around me after so long.

  Finally, I leaned back to look at him, but we stayed in each other’s embrace.

  He smiled, and my heart pounded.

  “Hi,” he said gently.

  “Hey,” I replied, almost a whisper, unable to do anything but that.

  “Do you want to have lunch?”

  I nodded.

  “Do you want to sit down?”

  He was grinning and I just wanted to scream. How could it be like this? So easy and casual and good?

  I took a step back and his arms slid down and away from me as I dropped my arms from his shoulders.

  We sat down across from each other and just sort of stared at one another for a long time. Eventually, we ordered lunch—I got this fancy California sandwich with avocado and sprouts and he got a grilled cheese and tomato sandwich, which caused an unexpected rush of affection to flood me when he told the server—and we still didn’t do much more than watch each other. He sipped his iced tea, I sipped my club soda. His eyes traced over my face like he was learning me all over again. I found myself doing the same thing.

  He smiled.

  I ached.

  When the server brought our food, Jack ordered a beer and asked me if I wanted a drink. I said no at first, but as soon as the server started walking away I blurted that I’d have a Bloody Mary.

  We kept sitting in relative silence as we ate, but it was the comfortable silence of old friends. It didn’t feel tense. It felt sacred, like we needed the silence to fully appreciate just being in each other’s presence again.

  After a while, the server took away our empty plates, and Jack regarded me over his beer. He took a sip and then set the bottle on the table between us.

  “You look really good, Talia,” he said. “I love your hair.”

  I self-consciously ran my hair through the lighter colored locks that I wasn’t quite used to yet.

  “Thanks,” I replied.

  “So, tell me about what you’re doing now,” he said, sounding so genuinely interested that I wanted to hug him again.

  I told him about Flora and Fauna as well as my job at Gia’s. He asked all the right questions about both, and I responded by asking him about his work. He said he worked at his dad’s law firm and then promptly changed the subject.

  “How’s Catrina? You two still thick as thieves?”

  I couldn’t help but smile. “You could say that. She’s doing really great. Her and Brody have been married for a few years now, and they’re really happy. Her career is obviously incredible.”

  “Wow, yeah, she’s really making a name for herself, isn’t she?” Jack said, looking impressed. “I heard there was Tony buzz around her La Bohème performance.”

  “I know! And she hasn’t even had a show yet. Everyone just knows she’s going to be that good.” I was so proud of my friend I could shout it to everyone around me. She was so talented and deserved every bit of success she got.

  “That’s amazing. She’s super talented,” Jack paused for a moment. “How’s your mom?”

  My heart fluttered at his question. He was so kind. I’d forgotten how kind he was, and all it took was a simple question to remind me. Jack had never actually met my mom since she’d never come up to Boston while we were at Klein except on graduation, but that day had been so hectic that she and Jack had never crossed paths. She worked her ass off every minute of pretty much every day so she could save every penny, which is why she’d never been able to come to town “just because.” I’
d grown up in Queens, New York, where my mom had lived up until five years ago.

  “She’s really good,” I told him. “She moved to Vermont the year after we graduated. Opened up a diner of her own and business is doing really well. It’s always been her dream.”

  “Talia, that’s incredible,” Jack said genuinely. “Wow.”

  “I know,” I agreed. “I’m so proud of her. She’s always worked so hard. She deserves it. How’s Julianna?”

  Jack’s face lit up at the mention of his sister. “She’s great. Pregnant with her third baby.”

  “Seriously?” I said with a laugh. Jack’s sister was five years older than us. I’d met her once when she’d come to Klein for Homecoming right before Jack and I had started hooking up. She was tall and thin and elegant, and she looked like she could scare the pants off the strongest of people when in actuality she was one of the sweetest and most down to earth people I’d ever met, despite still being tough as nails. When I’d met her she’d been a few months away from marrying her now-husband Elliot and swore they would never have kids.

  “Yep.” Jack looked pleased. “I have two amazing nieces, Sophia and Ainsley. They’re three and four and they’re the most amazing human beings I’ve ever met.”

  Hearing him talk about his family made my insides stir with butterflies. I knew how fun and goofy Jack could be, and I could just imagine how much his nieces probably adored him and loved spending time with their uncle. The craving to see him in that setting was powerful, but I didn’t want to completely acknowledge that. I wondered if he ever read them bedtime stories or had tea parties with them or took them to the park.

  We chatted a little bit more about our families and people we had known mutually at Klein. Almost two hours had passed. Our server had cleaned off our lunches, brought us coffee and dessert, and now Jack and I were just sitting and drinking our coffees. I felt so relaxed and comfortable here with him. I was still amazed at how much it felt like almost no time had passed between us. We’d had lots of lunch and coffee dates at Klein even though I never called them dates. We’d sit and stare at each other over a sandwich, both of us imagining the other naked, and then we’d practically run to his apartment when the sexual tension finally became unbearable.