And I mean it.
‘Thank you,’ she replies. ‘Do you want to come in for a pre-wedding drink?’
‘I would, but Jake is waiting for me,’ I reply. ‘But I’m really looking forward to celebrating your big day with you tomorrow.’
Wow, I really am. Suddenly it feels like I can be happy for them, have a nice time and feel optimistic about my own future.
She’s not a bad person, she’s just made mistakes, like the rest of us – like me thinking it was Andy I wanted, when really I just didn’t want to be alone any more, or was scared of being alone forever. But with Jake, he doesn’t feel like a life jacket, he feels like a life. I can see everything I could ever want just ahead of me – and it’s a great view. I just need to find Jake and tell him.
I find Jake exactly where he said he would be – in the stables, leaning against a fence, hat tipped low as he hangs out with the horses. You can tell it’s his happy place, being around them. I don’t blame him, to be honest. Biscuits is a lot less complex than the people here that I know.
He looks up when he hears me.
‘Hey,’ he says.
‘Hi,’ I reply.
I could do small talk, but I think we’ve wasted enough time already. It’s time to be brave, to tell him how I feel, and if he doesn’t feel the same, fine, that’s okay, but everyone in this group needs to stop keeping fucking secrets.
‘Last night meant something to me,’ I blurt. ‘You mean something to me.’
His expression softens immediately.
‘And I want to keep doing this with you, what we’re doing, but not faking it any more,’ I clarify. ‘I want to do all of it for real.’
Wow, you’d think, being a writer, I would be able to nail speeches like these, but that was awful. Jake doesn’t seem to mind though.
His grin is slow but definitely genuine.
‘Ma’am, I was hopin’ you’d say that.’
Relief surges through my body. He feels the same. I can’t believe it – he actually feels the same.
He approaches me slowly, like I’m a horse he’s trying not to startle, takes me in his arms and kisses me. It’s slow and steady, gentle, loving – the kind of kiss that makes you feel safe. Still, there’s a heat to it, one that we’re both leaning into. We pick up the pace, things getting more passionate, before we start tugging at each other’s clothes.
He reaches for his hat so I catch his hand.
‘No. Leave it on,’ I insist. ‘I kinda like it.’
He gives me a cheeky grin.
‘Whatever you want, darlin’,’ he replies.
This is what I want. Him – Jake. The cowboy of my dreams. I want him, a life with him, to help him secure his dream home and then spend as much time in it as he’ll let me.
So this is what it feels like, to know what you want, to be sure, and to grab it (or him) with both hands. And it feels great.
31
The morning of the wedding is finally here. While I was never sure how I felt about it even happening, it always felt inevitable, and I think it was the thought of change, of an uncertain future, that made me feel weird. Do you know what, I think it was all the bad dates, confusing me, making me think that Andy was the man for me because he was the only man who ever treated me well. But I can see now that my love for him was only ever platonic, and that’s all it ever will be.
Being with Jake put it all into perspective because I feel something for him that I didn’t feel for Andy, that intense attraction, that sexual chemistry, that funny feeling when he walks into a room. That’s what elevates friend love into romantic love. It’s having all of the perks of a best friend, but with that extra something that you only get from someone special.
Sunlight spills through the windows of the lodge, as if nothing in the world could possibly be wrong. The birdsong is drifting in through the open window, providing a story-worthy soundtrack for a wedding day.
I lie very still in bed, staring at the ceiling, my heart already racing like it knows something my brain is trying to deny. Jake is asleep beside me. He’s on his back, one arm flung above his head, the other resting loosely at his side. His breathing is slow and steady, the kind that gives you second-hand peace when you hear it. The sheet has slipped low on his chest, letting his torso peek out.
I do like him, a lot, and I’m so attracted to him… but it’s not love, is it? Not yet. It can’t be yet. I’m vaguely aware that I’m clearly so desperately single that I decide I’m in love with people on a whim, but this feels different. I guess I need to pace myself, take it slow, and see how it goes. I wonder how he feels about me…
