New Year’s Eve
“I wish I was there to kiss you,” Nate said, his voice full of regret.
“Yeah, well, you suck,” I teased. “It’s fine, Nate. Paper comes first. It has to.”
I dug myself deeper into the couch as I watched the ball drop.
“Ten, nine, eight, seven, six . . .” we said together as we rang in the new year. He was in Chicago meeting with some ad execs and wanted to get a head start on introductions before his meetings. He was courting them while I was left to pine for him on my couch. I hadn’t given him a single ounce of crap for it. He was taking care of both of his women in some capacity.
“Did you feel that kiss?”
“I’m eating a donut, so no,” I said with a chuckle.
“I’m sorry, baby,” he said. “I wish I could have taken you, but you’d be trapped in a hotel.”
“Next time. I have to work all day tomorrow. It’s a miracle I got the night off.”
“I have to get back to the party.”
“Go get ’em.”
“I wish I was inside you.”
“I’ll be sleeping on the right.”
There was that lingering silence, the one where we both wanted to say more words but waited. I loved that silence. It said so much more than words ever could.
“Hurry home.”
“Bye, beautiful.”
More silence. Neither of us wanted off the phone.
“One day we’ll travel together. Oh shit!”
“What?”
“I forgot to put a suitcase outside my door!”
“What?”
“It’s not midnight everywhere yet, right?” I said breathlessly, throwing the mountain of blankets off of my lap. Texas was a sea of ice and had been for weeks.
“Stella, I’m so confused,” he said with a chuckle.
“Just a superstition.”
“Ah,” he said with perfect understanding, because he knew me, sometimes better than I did myself. He was one of those men who studied my reactions, worked hard for my smiles, and fucked me like it was his job. I’d never had one of those men before. I fell in love with the promise in his eyes, his voice, and the comfort of being myself without being judged. His love was unconditional, though he had yet to utter the words. It was a given. Being with Nate was the most natural relationship I’d ever been in. He’d stolen my breath and was doing his best to steal the rest, and it was working.
“What does this one mean?”
“Leave a suitcase outside your door on New Year’s Eve? It means I’ll be a world traveler one day.”
“Better get it outside,” he said with an amused voice.
“’Night,” I said as I hustled down the hall to my bedroom.
“Night, weirdo,” he said affectionately, the rumble of his laugh cutting off as I hung up. I was a weirdo, and I loved that he knew that about me and embraced it. I was even more of a weirdo that night, bundled up like an old maid with the red muumuu nightgown my mother had gotten me for Christmas and the green and red stripped socks with a jingle bell attached to Santa’s hat. Paige and I managed a few civil sentences to make it through the holiday, though the grudge was still there on both parts. I spent my first Thanksgiving with Lexi and Ben. I burnt the turkey, Lexi glued the mashed potatoes with the beaters, and Ben choked it down without a negative word. Because he loved Lexi the same way Nate loved me.
Nate spent the holidays with his parents and all but begged me to join him, but I told him it was Lexi and my first year as independents, though we’d done a shit job of it.
The band wasn’t leaving for California until the first of the year, due to scheduling issues. At least that’s what Ben had told Lexi, so she’d practically moved in with him. When Lexi wasn’t at Ben’s, it meant they were arguing, and I stepped up to do whatever I needed to keep her calm. She was fighting to keep her insecurities on the back burner, and though I’d caught a protest or two from Nate, when she needed me, I was there. Ben was exhausted and it showed when he stood on my doorstep in the late hours of the morning, his eyes connecting with hers in a plea until she flew into his arms with a ready apology on her lips.
They were terrified, but Ben remained determined to prove to her that they weren’t changing, no matter what happened with the band.
Time would tell.
Neither of us believed him, but I kept my opinion out of it. Lexi had enough riding against her. Sony wasn’t just any label. Things were about to change drastically for everyone.
Between juggling the shows, writing for the paper, my boyfriend, and my best friend, I felt like I was living two lives. We never spoke a word about Reid, and I never asked. It was as if he didn’t exist. And I had to admit, it was a relief because I’d allowed myself to be happy in my new relationship. And I was happy. As happy as a girl could be alone on New Year’s Eve with the promise of a fresh year filled with Nate Butler. He was everything: kind, considerate, attentive, beautiful, and thrived in the boyfriend department. He’d spent the last two months exhausting himself at the paper and then showering me with whatever affection he could muster, and it was always more than enough.
I rolled my suitcase down the hall, opened the door, and was met with a gust of freezing air. I set it outside and was just about to close the door when I smelled smoke.
And where there is smoke . . .
It was like an electric jolt.
I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply before I lifted them to meet the watchful eyes of Reid Crowne. He’d been standing there for hours judging by the amount of cigarette butts that lay scattered around my porch.
He crushed his cigarette under his boot as I let my eyes drift up. Shock resonated as I saw he looked . . . healthier. He’d gained a few pounds. His hair stuck out underneath a gray beanie that matched his long johns shirt, and it looked sexy as hell on him. His jaw had filled out, too, and was covered in thick stubble but trimmed neatly on all sides. I was wordless as the air spiked with familiar tension. My mouth failed me. Words failed me. In his eyes, I saw curiosity and relief. And then his lips upturned.
No.
After a silent minute, his eyes flicked to the suitcase I set outside the door.
“Going somewhere?”
I took a step out in the freezing cold. My socks drenched in the chill the minute they hit the pavement.
“What are you doing here?”
He smirked and I died inside.
No. Please. No. Don’t smirk. Don’t smile. Don’t look at me!
“That’s a mighty sexy nightie you have on there, Grenade. Will the rest of the retirement home be joining you tonight?”
“Reid, cut the shit. What are you doing here?”
“Can I come in? It’s fucking freezing out here.” He blew hot air into his fists.
“No,” I said and shut the door behind me, blocking my apartment.
“Okay,” he said and shoved his hands into his jeans.
I just stared at him in my crazy muumuu, my hair piled on top of my head in a messy bun.
“I just wanted to talk a minute.”
“I thought we said it all.” My voice had bite. I was bitter. I had Nate. I had no reason to be bitter.
“Stop looking at me like that,” he said, his voice low.
“Like what?”
“Like I’m a caged animal. Like you’re afraid of me,” he said, taking a step forward. I winced.
“Damn it,” he snapped. “It’s me, Stella. I’m not here to hurt you.”
The tension built in my chest as I tried to tamp down my emotion. It was bitterness, resentment, and a lot of anger. Anger I hadn’t realized I was still holding on to.
“Stella,” he said softly. “I’ve wanted to call you so many times.
“But you didn’t,” I said with a sharp nod. “You look great. I’m glad you’re doing okay. Congratulations. Happy New Year, Reid.” I slammed the door behind me, and a second later, it hit my ass with a thud and pushed me forward.
“Stop,” he snapped, shutting it behind him.
I whirled on him. “You don’t get to tell me to stop! You don’t get to tell me shit!”
My neighbors’ party was audible between our walls and a collective ring of laughter sounded through them. I was supposed to go to bed after I spoke to Nate. I had plans. Reid was screwing up my plans, and I was tempted to join my neighbors just to get away from him. He stared at me like he could see through my robe. In a defensive move, I slid my arms around my stomach and gripped my sides.
All I thought about was fleeing, even though it felt like I waited an eternity to see him again. I used to pray for the day he would show up to my door.
“Why are you alone?”
“I’m not alone,” I whispered. “I mean, he’s in Chicago.”
“Okay.” Reid’s jaw pulsed. “You’re with that guy?”
“Yes. Nate. We’re together. Now. I didn’t lie to you about that. I’m not like that.”
He slowly nodded. “I know.”
“But you can’t say the same, can you?” I wanted to pull my tongue out. I didn’t know why I was bringing up old hurts. It wasn’t going to fix anything. “Forget I asked,” I said before I brushed past him and damn near hit my knees. That scent of him brought it all back, the smiles he gave to only me, the taste of him, the warmth that only he could give. I was, freezing, aching, and dying for just one burn from his fingertips. I felt my sensibilities start to flee and was grappling for them. And then the panic set in.
“You should go,” I said as I snatched a glass from my cabinet and stuck it under my faucet, putting the counter between us. I was at a safe distance. He watched me as I took a long sip.
“Want some?”
“No thanks.”
“Something stronger, maybe, so, you know, you can call me after you leave here and tell me why you were on my porch in the first place.”
“Because you’re making it so easy to talk to you now?” Another smirk.
“Stop,” I said, my heart inching itself away, trying to make a leap around the corner.
“Stop smiling?”
“Yes. Vodka or whiskey?”
“Neither.”
“Egg-fucking-nog?” I asked, exasperated.
He full on laughed as I wilted inside.
“I’ve missed you,” he whispered, “so fucking much.” He rounded the counter, and I put my hand up.
“Well, awesome, send me a postcard from California.”
Another laugh only made me more furious. Fire burned around my throat and I started to itch. I unzipped my robe, trying to ward of the unbearable heat.
I downed another glass of water and felt the sweat gather on my forehead. Ripping at the robe, I pulled it up and over my head and threw it on the floor, leaving me in boy shorts and a tank top.
“You need to go.”
“Not before I say what I came to say,” he said as he cruised my body, pausing at all of his favorite stops.
“Okay then, we’re drinking.”
“Nothing for me,” he said sternly. I popped the top off the vodka in my freezer, and he batted it out of my hand. The bottle bounced into my sink.
“Don’t drink that,” he snapped.
“Why?”
“Just don’t.”
“Cutting down?”
“Yeah, I am, and you’re a lousy drunk,” he said as he closed the space between us. “I’ve been fucking up a lot, especially when it comes to you.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does. And I’m sorry.”
“You said that.”
“Never sober,” he said, drawing my chin from the floor with his fingertips, so we connected soul to soul. It was like a switch.
“Please don’t touch me,” I said with trembling lips.
He pulled his hand away. “And I’m still on my knees,” he muttered under his breath, “unbelievable.”
“Just say it, please, whatever you came to say and go.” My whole body was shaking and I was sure he could see it.
“You’re shaking.”
“I’m fine.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You did what you had to do,” I said, lowering my eyes.
“I was in rehab, Stella. From the minute I signed that contract until ten a.m. this morning.”
Of all the reasons I could think of, that was the last. “What?”
“Crazy, right? What musician goes to rehab before his career takes off?” He took a step back and slid the beanie off his silky dark locks, which scattered around his face. I drank him in, and for a brief second, we were back in his apartment, my heart on my sleeve, his eyes tearing into my soul.
“Why?”
“I needed to get my head straight. I was becoming like my parents. I didn’t want that. I wanted to be better.”
“You are better,” I said in a breathless whisper. “You’ve always been better.”
“Still my eternal cheerleader?” he asked with another smirk. He took a step forward and faltered when he saw I wasn’t receptive to any of it.
“You kept your promise, that’s all that matters,” I said truthfully. “And now, God. Sony, Reid.”
“Crazy,” he said with a small smile before he looked at me point blank. “And it was you who changed every fucking thing.”
“Don’t. I just wrote about a band I believed in.” Reid took inventory of my apartment and shook his head. I knew exactly what he was thinking about: the day I moved in.
“You’ll be okay, you know that, right? Deep down you know exactly what you want, how you want this to play out. You don’t have to be a cliché. You don’t have to live that life. The music is what matters most. Your beautiful music, Reid. You can do this.”
“Yeah,” he said thoughtfully. “Another pep talk,” he said without a smirk, worry clear in his features.
“Yeah, yeah, look at me,” I said the same way I had months before. Jade clouds brewed between us. “Believe me.”
“I don’t believe anyone anymore, Stella, but you.” He moved toward me again, and I flinched, too afraid of myself. Of us.
“Reid, I can’t—”
“Here Without You” by 3 doors down sang out from the TV feet away as my brain scrambled for some semblance of the woman I was minutes before he showed up to my door.
“Okay,” he relented, frustration rolling off his shoulders.
“Nate’s a good man. You would really like him. He’s good to me. He doesn’t make me—”
“Doesn’t make you what?” he said softly as I counted his slow steps toward me.
“Reid, goddamn you,” I rasped out.
“I am damned,” he whispered between us. “Look at me.” I shook my head as he gripped the sides of my face. Hot tears pooled and slipped down my cheeks. I was burning up, on the verge of losing myself. The reinforced wall I’d built shook down to the foundation. Everything I felt for him came brimming up to the surface. My heart pounding wildly as he searched for and saw everything in my eyes. And then the warmth hit, the feeling of it spread from my chest throughout my limbs.
“Stella,” he whispered before his lips pressed to mine. The agony of missing him leaked from my every pore. I threw every ounce of pain into that kiss, all the love that I felt escaped in a sob he captured with his lips. Softly, he pressed in, and I wrapped my arms around his neck as he slid his arms around my body, pulling me tightly to him. He kept our mouths sealed while he held me, our lips pressed together, and I felt his hesitance to let go when I pulled my lips away. He dropped his forehead to mine.
“Happy New Year, Stella. I’m glad you’re happy. That’s all I came to see.”
“Happy?” I scoffed. “I guess now you can put that guilty conscience to rest,” I said in a ruined puddle under the weight of him.
“Hate me if you need to,” he said softly, as he let me go and stuffed his cap in his jeans.
I hated the way it felt, the distance. I scrambled for words.
“Reid?” I whispered. Shoulders slumped, his eyes found mine. “What in the hell kind of rehab let’s someone out on New Year’s Eve?”
We laughed. It was our special skill, one we created together when things couldn’t get any worse. Our smiles faded as he looked me over and opened the door.
“I’ll see you, Grenade,” he whispered before he closed it behind him. I went after him and stopped him on the sidewalk.
“I’ll be the one to watch it happen,” I shouted as his back.
Slowly, he turned to face me, his eyes closed with the memory of my words, his lips twisted. “Say it.”
I smiled through my free-falling tears. “I told you so.”
He gave me one last breath-stealing smile, got into his truck, and left me without his warmth, once again in the cold.