Sail (Wake #2) (35 page)

Thursday, June 3, 2010

WORK WAS A BITCH. A busy, slave-driving bitch.

We both stayed really fucking busy through May. But we met in Atlanta, and she let me pretend we got a do over—at the club. That time, I didn’t leave her alone in the closet.

After we reenacted the sex we’d had in the closet that one hot night—on her recommendation—she giggled and asked where her fifty bucks was. To tell you the truth, I didn’t think doing it again in there could top the first time, but was I ever wrong.

It was a wonder how Blake started looking at our old mistakes. She so easily decided we could either laugh or cry about them. And since we now made the rules, she chose laughing.

She’d just met with her lawyer the week before, having been gone so much, and now they were moving forward with having Grant served. He had to sign the papers and he was supposed to get them on Monday.

The phone rang. I smiled. It never got old.
My honeybee.

After thinking back to where we were at the same time the year before—when days turned to weeks, and then to nothing—it was really fucking cool that I’d just got off the phone with her and there she was. Calling again.

I still felt the same electricity and luck as when my phone lit up inside of Hook, Line and Sinker that first night. I‘d never forget.

Honeybee: Rm 315

Then after a few long weeks—that looking back weren’t really that long at all—we would text all day and chat whenever the mood struck us—which tended to be a fucking lot. In those first few months after we’d met, I’d send her texts about anything. She must have thought I was crazy. I’d send her any useless bit of fucking knowledge I could find, just to have something to say. All along I should have been telling her I missed her. And how I wanted to know what all of her yearbook pictures looked like and what she did on Thanksgiving. I’d wanted to discover everything I could about her.

I still did.

But I didn’t think to do that. I’d played the game as much as she had. I wasn’t honest with her either.

Somewhere between my phone ringing one and three times, I realized I didn’t even know when her birthday was.

What kind of guy, who claimed they loved someone, didn’t know something as trivial as that? And I was trying to convince her how much I really loved her, when I’d never thought to learn everything I could?

I didn’t want to be another Grant to her. I never wanted to take Blake for granted.

No wonder she never believed I was serious in the past. And what an incredible amount of faith on her part, to trust I was worth all the chaos now. I hadn’t known how to be the man she deserved me to be, but it was starting to come together for me. And by buying the Seattle building, on my own, after thinking about it and talking to Marc about what had gone down again with Aly, I knew it was the right move to have a franchise that was all me.

I loved being so close to her and having her finally calling my phone—more than just once in a day. It felt like everything was going to be fucking okay—for real this time. I kept feeling that, little by little, we actually were getting there.

I answered the call. “You know if you’re not careful, you’ll be dangerously close to being called my stalker. And when is your birthday?”

“April 24th, two days before Foster’s. And stalker?”

Two days before Foster’s birthday?
I’d had no idea.

We were together on April 24th. The day of his party
was
her birthday. She never mentioned it. Fuck. Again, I’d disconnected myself from her real life, when I was trying to make a whole new life for us. I wasn’t seeing the goddamned forest for the trees.

“I’m sorry I missed your birthday.”

“You didn’t. Not this year.” She laughed when she said it, like I was absurd for feeling bad.

“I didn’t know it was your birthday. I didn’t get to tell you.”

“I saw you on my birthday.
You
were my wish. The only present I wanted.”

What a sweet fucking human. Another side effect of never telling her things, and the worst side effect if I were being honest, was that she never felt like she could tell me either, like those parts didn’t matter, because I was too stupid to ask. I had to be better for her too. For us. Shit, for everyone.

“I should have known your birthday.”

“It just never came up since I’ve been your official girlfriend, and you’ve been my official…landlord. And why would I tell you back then, when we were just…” She paused there. I could hear her tapping the side of the phone and the thumping ticked a steady beat as she looked for the right word.

“Together,” I offered.

“Were we? Were we ever together then?”

She made a good point. It was a lonely fucking affair, but that word didn’t seem to taste right.

“Involved?”

She laughed. “That sounds like something my mom would say about a Lifetime movie.
They were involved, Blake,
” she said in what I guessed was a mocking impression of her mother’s recount of said movie.

“I don’t know. I’ve still never even picked you up and taken you out on a date or anything, so it isn’t like I’ve been the best…landlord.” I didn’t even buy her a fucking birthday card. I was the worst, but I’d get better.

“You’ve taken me on dates, Casey,” she argued. “Plenty of times. Roller skating. You took me to Costa Rica for goodness sake. And way before that. Maybe they weren’t dates for you, but they were for me. You picked me up at Reggie’s,” she paused in thought, “I think of that night as our first date.”

“You do? That wasn’t a very good date.” I had to admit, I loved the memory of that night, but it was
no
first date. Not one I should have given her. Yet another time I reinforced the idea of how casual my feelings were. I took her to my fucking hotel room for fuck’s sake. Then expected her to leave me for a guy who bought her a house? I’d been out of my damn mind.

How in the hell was she still even talking to me? How was I worth the effort?

Yes, I loved her and since things had changed over the holidays I’d been better, but calling her my girlfriend and treating her like one were two completely different things. I didn’t want to mess this up.

“And all of those times you waited for me down in the lobby. It was like being picked up for a date. Those count, Casey. Even if we didn’t treat them like they did. They counted.” It relieved me hearing her re-tell it like that—jaded and skewed as I thought it was. She was sentimental. More than she ever knew.

“Were you this smart the whole time?”

I laughed at her laughing and sat down in my office chair. She didn’t sound too bent out of shape about the fit I was having. She just let me have it.

“Come see me,” she said, and the hint of a whine in her voice was so damn cute. She missed me.

“When?” I wanted to go to her that very second. And if my body was capable of teleporting it would have done it automatically on her command.

“My mom and dad’s anniversary party.”

“Are you serious?” We’d talked about me meeting her family, it just never seemed like it was ever going to happen. Something so small. So insignificant to everyone else on the planet. But after hearing about them for the past two years, I felt like I already knew them. And I remembered how I felt being open with our relationship in front of my clan. I wanted to give that to her.

“Of course I am. It’s time and I want you to meet them,” she said proudly and my dick got hard. Yeah. It wasn’t the right moment, but fuck if it was the totally right fucking moment, too.

“It’s about
damn
time.” I thought how long we’d known each other.

Last week was two years ago since we’d met. Since Hook, Line and Sinker. Since the first night, I was sucked into the crazy world, where Blake meant everything.

One year since her wedding and I thought all hope for a future with her was lost. It was only fitting I was meeting her parents around the same date.

“Yeah, that’s what my dad said, too.”

“I think he and I will get along great if we really finally get to meet.” I knew she hadn’t been hiding me or anything. We’d both been working, and she’d been coming to San Francisco instead of home, nearly every other weekend.

“Then come with me to their party. It’s Saturday. Thirty years married.” Did she really think she had to convince me? To be with her? Still?

Foster’s birthday aside, we didn’t have a great track record with big events. Births. Weddings. Most of our major turning points occurred during those. I loved that she was inviting me, but let’s face it, Blake and I had a fading tendency to pack drama on every trip—and paid more to check the extra baggage.

I didn’t want their first impression of me to be a man who’d show up at their event, knowing they couldn’t really react to me being there like they would if we were meeting privately.

Okay, maybe I was expecting the worst, even though she’d told me lots of times they’d love me. If she felt it was a good time to cross that milestone, I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I just needed to improvise a little—just to be safe.

“No, Blake. Not like that. I don’t want to pull a fast one on them. It’s not right. I don’t want them to be polite because someone might overhear what they’re saying. I want them comfortable enough to let us—
me
—have it if they want. I want to meet
them.
I want them to meet
me.
” I deserved a bit of scrutiny.

She didn’t hesitate. No sooner were my words out of my mouth, before she added, “Then come early. Come tomorrow. Reggie will be here tomorrow night. And we’ll all have dinner. Oh my God.” She didn’t say anything for a few seconds. I think it was starting to sink in for her, too. “This is really happening. Isn’t it?”

“I think so, honeybee.”

Her joyful excitement then changed to something sounding much more somber.

Was she crying? She was. And having heard how excited she was only seconds before, I knew they were happy tears. Tears of relief. Tears for our newest, small victory.

She sniffled, then I heard her blow her nose. It wasn’t hot at all, but I didn’t have her on speakerphone and my hard-as-hell dick didn’t hear it. I was beginning to love the moments when pages finally felt turned.

She continued, her voice covered in emotion, “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted you to meet my family.” Then she sniffed again.

“You’re ready for this?” I hoped she was, because I was ready.

“Yes, and Casey, I want
them
to meet
you,
too. You’re so right about that.”

“Okay then. This is happening.”

“I’ll do whatever it takes to be with you. Full-time. And this, it feels like one of the last steps.”

I wanted that, too. Hell, it was starting to feel necessary. Lot of couples work odd shifts or out of town, but I was quickly realizing I couldn’t do without her. I wanted to be near her, more than not. And soon.

“I miss you so fucking much. Do you know that?” She had to know, but I wasn’t going to be the fool who let it go without being said. As much of a pussy as it made me sound. She was worth being a pussy for. I’d done that to us too many times—not telling her what she needed to hear. I wasn’t going to assume she knew anything, and I’d pledge to her how I felt as often as I had to. It felt like one of those times.

“I know that in the past I’ve confused you, or didn’t say everything outright. I know for a long time I was playing along. But that game is over now. I love you. I want you. Every day. As soon as fucking possible, honeybee. I. Love. You.”

It only made it that much worse because we were having the conversation on the phone.

“I love you too,” she said. “I’ve tried to do this on my own, Casey. And I failed us each time, because I’m stronger
with
you. When you’re near me, I can do anything. I tried to do everything my way, or some delusional version of the right way or whatever. But I was wrong. This
is
the right way, because it’s
our
way. And I’m proud of our way.”

I let her words settle in. And I’ll be a son of a bitch if she hadn’t really understood where I was coming from. She knew. She knew
me.
She knew what we needed.

We really have got this.

“Now, book a flight for tomorrow. Text me goodnight. Then call and harass me in the morning.”

I looked at our ships that sat on my desk. I had originally positioned them facing each other, because I just wanted to get where she was. But now, that was all wrong. The wind was never blowing us in the same direction until that moment. We weren’t passing each other by this time. She was right with her analogy. This time the wind would blow the both of us together. In the same direction. I moved them, side by side. Now, they’d both face forward.

Before hanging up, she told me she loved me again and asked that I let her know when I’d be in town the next day.

I was going to meet her family. And in front of all of them, I’d announce I was opening my own branch of Bay Brewing Company—in Seattle.

We wouldn’t have to choose one place or the other. We could have both. We could have everything.

She’d realize when I said I wanted to be where she was, that I’d meant it.