Isn't It Time (21 page)

He blew out a breath and rested his chin in his hand,
tapping his fingers against his face while he thought, staring through me.

“Here’s the thing,” he finally said, straightening up and
leaning back in his chair. “This week I’ve been watching you and Jack, two
people who clearly love and respect each other and it seems obvious to me that
you should be together. You’re perfect for each other and yet something is
stopping you from pursuing that.”

“We’re not talking about me,” I said, my tone a little
snotty. “We’re talking about you.”

“Oh, calm down and let me finish,” he said with a grin.
“It’s because of you and Jack that I need this advice.”

“Really? Why?”

“Now don’t take offense to this, but I would look at the two
of you and your relationship and think, ‘Why the hell are they so stupid? What
is stopping them from being together?’ – and when I thought that, something
clicked in my own head.”

“Something that said why the hell are
you
so stupid?”
I folded my arms across my chest, sat back and smirked.

“Exactly!” he exclaimed, rising slightly from his chair and
leaning forward until his chest was resting on the table. My response had been
facetious, but he took the ball and ran with it. “I realized that your
relationship with Jack was almost identical to mine with Kayla.  I love her.
She’s a great person, a great friend and a fantastic mother to our boys.  So I
wondered why I wasn’t doing something about that.  I don’t want to just go
along like we are, thinking everything’s perfect the way it is, and then
BOOM!”  He shouted that last word almost directly into my face and I jumped.

“Jesus, Nate. You just scared the crap out of me.” I patted
a calming hand to my fluttering heart and raised an eyebrow.  “And do you think
you could get off of the table and back into your chair?” He looked surprised
and glanced down at the table, as if he hadn’t realized he had somehow managed
to keep his feet on the floor while his upper body was resting on his forearms
about three-quarters of the way across the table.  A couple more inches and
he’d be having an intimate conversation with my chest. He dropped his head to
the table and started to laugh. And that, of course, made me start to laugh.

He lifted his head and looked up at me. “I think I’m a
little drunker than I thought I was.”

“No kidding.” I pushed back my chair and tried to stand up
but tripped over one of the chair legs and went down. I was lying on my back on
the floor, arms flung straight overhead, and laughing hysterically, when Nate’s
head appeared over the edge of the table. The sight of that made me laugh even harder.

“Oh my God. Are you okay?” He tried to look concerned, but I
could tell he was holding in a laugh.

“You look like a giant head growing out of the side of my
table,” I informed him through my laughter.

He snorted and started laughing as hard as I was. Only now
he was almost upside down.

“Get off of the table, Nate. I can’t stop laughing with you
dangling like that.”

He slid forward, head first, and somersaulted into a prone
position, his feet hitting the floor with a thud next to my head.

We laid there for a few minutes while we settled down, then
I twisted to my side and sat up. “Come on, Nate,” I said, punching his leg.
“Potty break.”

“Good idea.” He rolled to his stomach and came up on his
knees, extending a hand to me. He pulled me up as he stood, both of us only
swaying a little, and we were still laughing intermittently as we walked
together to the bathrooms.

When I returned, feeling a little more sober, the empties
had all been moved to the counter and there was a fresh beer and another shot
on my side of the table.

“Holy cow. Are you trying to kill me?”

“You’ll live.” He lifted his shot glass. “Round two.”

We both swallowed our shots and mine seemed to go down a
little easier this time. I barely choked at all.

“Now where did I leave off?” Nate asked.

I leaned forward and shouted, “BOOM!”

I giggled as Nate fell back in slow motion, jerking his body
and blowing explosion-like sounds out from puffed cheeks until he settled,
sprawled against the back of the chair, eyes closed, feigning death.

“Nate! Stop. We have to get serious. I don’t think we have
much time left before one or both of us passes out.”

He straightened languidly out of his sprawl and leaned
forward with his arms crossed on the table in front of him. “You’re right. And
my money’s on you.”

“That’s probably a safe bet.”  I shook my head to clear it a
little.  “So, you don’t want to go on like everything’s okay and then…?”

“And then have her meet some guy and marry him,” he answered
promptly.

“Ah. And you want to be the one to marry her?”

“Yeah, I think I do. That’s what I realized this week. I
really love her.  And not only that – the four of us are a family; we should
all be together.  I know that now. And if she marries someone else, not only
will I lose
her
, then I have to deal with some other guy butting into
how we raise our kids.   And all of that makes me feel...”  He blew out a
breath and looked away from me, while he tried to come up with a word.

“Afraid?” I suggested.

He turned back to me and answered simply, “Yeah.”

I absently tugged on my earlobe while I leaned on an elbow
and thought about that. “So what’s stopping you from telling her how you feel?”
I said it as if that was the simplest thing in the world to do.

He laughed. “Fear again.  Fear of what will happen if I do -
and fear of what will happen if I don’t.”

“Well, it seems to me you don’t have anything to be afraid
of. My considered drunken opinion is that she feels the same way.”

“Do you really think so? Tell me what makes you think that.”
He was leaning forward on the table again as he looked at me earnestly.

I shot him a look that took in the table and his position on
it and waited until he obediently straightened in his chair before I continued.
“Look, Nate. She’s a very attractive woman. I’m sure she gets plenty of offers
– and yet she doesn’t date anyone.”

“I told you why she doesn’t.”

“No, you told me what she told
you
about why she
doesn’t.  Not having sex because you’re afraid of getting pregnant is one
thing. But if a woman is still looking for the right guy, she will at least
accept a few offers and see where they go.  She might not have sex with them,
but she would still go to dinner or a movie or whatever.  You see what I’m
saying?”

He bit the corner of his bottom lip and looked confused.
“Are you saying she’s decided she doesn’t want to be with anyone? That she’d
rather be alone?”

I shook my head and rolled my eyes. “No, you idiot! I’m
saying that she’s not looking for the right guy because she’s already found
him.”

“She has?” He looked startled and then angry. “Who?”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Nate!” I exclaimed in exasperation.
“You’re not usually this dense. Think!”

“You mean me? You think she thinks I’m the right one?”

“Yes, of course it’s you.” I picked up my beer and took a
long drink, while Nate did the same. “Let’s look at the facts. She was nineteen
or twenty years old and holding onto her virginity.  Yet, she gave that up to
you, under less than ideal circumstances. And I don’t think she did that just
because she wanted to get rid of it and you were convenient. That wouldn’t make
sense.”

“No, you’re right. She’s not that kind of person at all.” 
He sat there for a few seconds, seemingly lost in his memories and again biting
his bottom lip. “Do you think…do you think she was
waiting
for me?”

“That’s exactly what I think. And I think that after Michael
was born she probably had a brief period where she told herself you weren’t
ever going to be interested in her in that way and she should move on.“

“The sperm donor,” he stated, finally catching on.

“Right. And after that disaster, I would guess she decided
she wasn’t willing to settle for less than what she wanted.  And what she
wanted was you.”

“Do you really think so?” he asked for the second time.

“Well, I don’t know her. But from everything you’ve said
about her, I would say yes. You told me yourself she’s not the kind of person
to put people in a position where they would feel forced to do something they
didn’t want to do.  So she probably wouldn’t come right out and tell you how
she feels. I think she’s waiting for you to make the move.”

“So you think she might actually be…in love with
me
?” 

His hopeful expression made me smile and I leaned across the
table to squeeze his hand. “Oh, Nate – how could she
not
be?”

He smiled broadly and returned the squeeze before releasing
my hand. “Thank you.” He picked up his phone from the table and swiped across
the screen.  “I’m going to call her right now and tell her how I feel.”

I quickly snatched the phone out of his hand and sat back in
my chair.  “Bad idea,” I told him.

“What? Why? You just said – “

“I know what I just said. But it’s already after 10:30 and
you’re drunk. I really think that’s the kind of conversation you should have
sober.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. I don’t think she’ll meet
someone else before I see her tomorrow.”

“Nope. So, problem solved?” I lifted both my beer bottle and
my eyebrows and hoped he would answer in the affirmative.  I was pretty sure I
had used my last functioning brain cell trying to be coherent while I offered
my advice. Now I was just ready to go to bed.

“Problem solved,” he confirmed, clinking his bottle against
mine. We took what I hoped was our last drink.

“So,” Nate said, looking at me slyly. “Are you going to take
your own advice?”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, come on. Obviously you’ve been waiting for Jack and now
he’s making his move and you’re pretending not to notice. Are you going to tell
him how you feel?  You have an advantage – you already know he’s in love with
you.”

I set down my beer bottle with a sigh and reached for the tequila.
“I haven’t been waiting for Jack,” I said as I poured us both another shot.  “I
didn’t even realize I was in love with him until a couple of days ago.”

“Jack told me you never date anyone who’s right for you.  If
it seems like the guy you’re with is a nice guy, you find a reason to dump him
early.  If he seems like someone you would never care about, you keep him
around for a while.”

I stopped, shot halfway to my lips. “He actually said
that?”  Jack was paying more attention than I had given him credit for.

“Yeah. He thinks you don’t want to get emotionally
involved.”

I threw back the shot and didn’t bother to chase it with the
beer. “Yeah. I guess you could say that.”

“Even with Jack? Seriously, he’s perfect for you.  And
you’re never going to find a nicer guy.”  He swallowed his own shot and gave me
a look that defied me to argue with that.

“Nate. You don’t have to try to convince me. I love him. And
I already know he’s a great guy. And I know he’s almost perfect for me.”

“Almost?”

“Yeah.”  I looked down at the table, blinking away tears and
hoping I wasn’t about to go on an alcohol-induced crying jag.  I got the tears
under control, sniffed loudly and raised my eyes back to Nate. “As much as I
want it, I don’t think it can ever work between us.”

“I don’t understand.  Why not?”

“I can’t tell you. I can’t even tell him.”  I finished off
my beer and moved the bottle to the side of the table.  I was done.

“Is it unfixable?”

“My gut feeling is yes. But then I think, maybe not. Shit. I
just don’t know.”

“Angie.” Nate moved his own beer bottle to the side of the
table. “You have to tell him whatever it is. You have to give him a chance to
decide if it’s unfixable or not.  Right now, he still has hope.  It’s not fair
to him to make that decision without his input.”

“Yeah.” I put my elbows on the table and pushed my hands
through my hair at the sides of my head. “You’re right, I know you’re right –
but I’m still afraid.”  I sat up and let go of my hair after giving it a few
shakes.

“What are you afraid of? Losing him?”

“Yes. I’m going to lose him either way.”

“You know that doesn’t make sense, right?”

“I know,” I said on a big sigh.  “But I’m going to have to
think about it tomorrow.  I’m too drunk for that now.  Besides, I’m going to be
spending the weekend at his house. Maybe I can work up the courage then.”

I stood up carefully, not wanting a repeat of my earlier
tripping episode, and Nate followed my lead.  “No ‘maybe,’ Angie. Just tell
him. He’s a reasonable guy who loves you. I think you’re not giving him enough
credit.”

“I know that in my heart. It’s my head that’s giving me
fits.”  I offered him a weak smile and he walked around the table and hugged
me.

“Tell your head to shut up and just be brave. I promise you
it will all work out.”

“You sound awfully sure of that,” I said doubtfully against
his chest.

“I know Jack. He’s not going to let you get away if there’s
anything he can do to stop it from happening.”

“Thank you,” I said, giving him a squeeze and moving away.

“You’re welcome,” he said with a smile.  “Is it okay if I
crash on your couch? I’m in no condition to drive.”

“I’ll do you one better – you can sleep in Jack’s room. I’m
sure he won’t mind.”

“That’d be great, thanks. And I’d better send Jack a text
and let him know I won’t be back tonight. He’ll be happy to know that I’m
taking my bodyguard duties so seriously.”

We both laughed, doubting Jack would be pleased about the
drunken condition my bodyguard was in. I watched in amusement as he raised his
phone almost to his nose and read aloud as he very carefully texted,
“Spending
the night with Angie. See you in the morning.”
  He put his phone in his
pocket and said, “Duty completed. I’m ready for bed.”