“I love you.”
“Love you too.”
The car drove off, and he waited until the taillights disappeared before heading back inside. Thinking back on the conversation he had with both Cassandra that morning and his sister, Blake sat down at his laptop and began typing. Maybe there was something he could do after all.
Chapter Twenty-Three
God, he wasa shit. But in all fairness, he couldn’t string Chelsea along. Not when he knew she wanted him, and he could barely kiss her good night without feeling like he was cheating on Blake. Several weeks of dating her had proved one thing: he hadn’t moved on from Blake, and he needed to make one last-ditch effort to get him back.
Breaking up with her had been relatively painless, but he shouldn’t have been surprised. When you’re seeing someone almost every night and you’ve never made a move to touch them, when your good-night kiss was little more than a peck on the cheek, they’d have to be dead not to know something wasn’t right. And because Chelsea was as cool as she was beautiful, she understood.
“It’s okay. I took the risk knowing you were coming off a breakup. I’d hoped to make you forget, but you’re still in love with him, huh?”
They were sitting in her apartment on her sofa, face-to-face. A bottle of Pinot Noir had been uncorked, and she’d made a nice platter of cheese and crackers, plus hummus and carrots. But he wasn’t hungry. Miserable and ashamed, Jeremy shrugged and kept his gaze trained on the brightly colored rug on the floor.
“Don’t be embarrassed. It only makes me want to hug you ’cause you look so cute.”
His cheeks warmed, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “I, ah, yeah. I am. I tried to fool myself that I didn’t, and even Noah called me out and told me I shouldn’t do this to you. He knew before I did.”
She sidled next to him on the sofa, and he smelled her subtle perfume. Why couldn’t he want her? She was a dream: smart, with a great job as a teacher, and pretty, with a kick-ass body. But all he felt was friendship. Nothing more.
“Noah’s pretty perceptive. And you need to stop beating yourself up. We went out on some dates, and it didn’t work out. It doesn’t mean we can’t be friends, though, right?”
Relieved, Jeremy grinned. “Yeah. I didn’t want you to hate me.”
Genuinely surprised, she cocked her head. “Hate you? That’s a pretty strong emotion.” She kicked off her shoes and tucked her feet underneath her. “You know they say the other side of hate is love, and we don’t have a relationship like that. But I think you’re overly concerned with what people think of you. And you shouldn’t be because, number one, who cares, and number two, you’re a great guy. Anyone would be lucky to have you in their life. So stop worrying.”
He folded his arms behind his head and leaned back on the sofa cushions to stare at the ceiling. “I’m not so great. You’re biased ’cause you like me. But if I was such a great guy, Blake would’ve tried to work things out instead of cutting me dead.”
Without answering, Chelsea poured both of them a glass of wine and handed him his. He accepted it but didn’t drink.
“Listen, as I see it, that sounds like Blake’s problem, not yours. And if you’re as hung up on him as you seem, you need to fight for him.”
“I tried,” he said, staring into the ruby depths of his glass. “I texted and called and—”
“And that’s not enough.”
Surprised at her cutting him off, Jeremy set his glass down and threw his hands up. “So what am I supposed to do? Show up at his office and make a scene?”
A gleam entered Chelsea’s brown eyes, and they sparkled with mirth. “That’s not a bad idea.” She sobered up. “But seriously. People like Blake need that something extra to prove they’re worth loving. Words aren’t always enough for them. At least that’s the type of person Blake sounds like.”
“But he’s so busy. I can’t just show up at his office.”
Chelsea set her glass down next to his. “Sure you can,” she said softly. “When it comes to love, you can do anything.”
As he sat and pondered her words, Jeremy realized she was right. If love and war could be compared, then he needed one last stand. He hugged Chelsea and whispered in her ear, “Thanks for being my friend.”
****
Talking about itwith Chelsea was easy, but the next few days found Jeremy working overtime, setting up the promotion for the juice bar. There had been a small party at the gym, and when his mother came with Noah, she couldn’t contain her excitement.
“This is wonderful. Exactly what you should be doing to grow your business. Except you should have used Noah as your model for the banner. He’d be a tremendous draw. Not that the young man isn’t nice-looking, but—”
“But nothing, Mom.” Noah appeared by her side, frowning. “I already told you to stop pushing. This is Jeremy’s business to run the way he sees fit. And from all the people signing up”—he pointed to the front desk where a line of people waited for Benny and Gino to process their memberships—“I think it’s a huge success.”
Sipping her juice, his mother glanced around the gym. “Where’s Blake? Isn’t he here?”
“Uh, he’s working on a big project and said he’d try to get away, but I understand. It’s closing in on April 15th, and soon he’ll be free.”
