Chapter Three
Tak
I was singing while moving three vases when a knock startled me and I went from antique store owner to screaming vase juggler in less than a second. Well, at least now I knew I had another talent.
I set the vases down gently and walked over to the door, heart still beating out of my chest. My antique shop was a little off the beaten path, but not by much—still close to the main highway. Still, I got a good amount of business, especially from people from the next town, Mapleville.
But let’s face it. I was jumpy by nature.
“What?” I threw open the door and was met by memory lane. Before me stood the physical embodiment of my fantasies, both juvenile and recent. He hadn’t changed a lot other than some more lines around his eyes, and he was less than I remembered. Then again, he didn’t play football anymore, or so I thought. Warmth built in my chest as I drudged up the courage to speak. “Chris? What...what are you doing here?”
He smiled, and I was immediately taken back to high school where that smile got him anything he wanted and anyone he wanted as well. “Nice to see you, too, Tak. Is that how you greet all your customers?”
He looked me up and down, trying to be coy and failing. I expected the reaction I usually get, which was a comment about looking good or how much weight I’ve lost.
Except Chris didn’t say a damned word. Probably the only person in the world who I wanted to say something, and he didn’t.
“No, of course not. You startled me. Sorry, I just didn’t know you were in town or that you even knew where I was.”
Or that you even knew I was alive.
He shifted back and forth on his heels, a little anxious maybe? Didn’t seem like the suave football player I used to know, but then again, I hadn’t seen him in years. He wore a T-shirt that pulled taut across his pecs and worn jeans that fit him just right.
“I got an invitation from Will.”
My mouth spoke before I could comprehend. “Oh, for what?” One of his eyebrows cocked. I could be such a dummy, especially around Chris. I’d surprised myself by not fainting. “My birthday, duh. Come on in. We’re not open yet, which is why you scared the living hell out of me.”
I opened the door wider on purpose, wanting him to brush past me so I could inhale his scent. He could brush his whole body against me if he wanted to.
I choked on my thoughts. “Do you want some coffee? Tea?”
“Oh, sure. That would be great. The coffee at the hotel was…”
“Disgusting is the general consensus. Someone needs to take over that hotel or build a bed-and-breakfast. Something.”
I shuffled awkwardly as he assessed the place. Suddenly, I wished I had dusted the day before or cleaned or at least sprayed some Febreze. He touched a few items and then looked back at me.
I blinked a few times, trying to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.
Shit, I had to shake out of this.
“Well, come on to the kitchen. I still have plenty from breakfast.” I heard his footsteps following me to the kitchen. When we were in high school, Chris was my best friend. We sat next to each other in every class, and I used to count on the sound of him coming into the classroom to get me through each hour.
I bet he didn’t know that he was my rock during that time.
“Tak,” Chris said and held onto my arm as I reached for the coffeepot. I gasped and willed the tears not to come.
“Yeah?”
He paused. “Can I...this is going to sound stupid.”
“Can you what, Chris?” Take me to the bedroom? Take me right here on the kitchen floor? Take me out of this town where my love life is a dead end?
“Can I give you a hug?”
That wasn’t on my mental list, but I would accept.
I circled my arms around his middle, and he wrapped his around my shoulders. We were about the same height, Chris maybe a few inches taller than me. His soft hair tickled my ear as I took in his raw and manly scent, all Chris. He always smelled like autumn to me. Not one specific thing, but everything about fall all wrapped up in one scent. Our bodies were flush against each other, and he inhaled softly as our hips made contact.
“There’s a lot less to hug,” he chuckled, and the sound reverberated in my chest.
“A lot less.”
“But you look younger, almost.”
My ears heated at the tips. “Is that a good thing?”
I pulled back a little to look at his face. I couldn’t say the same for Chris and not be lying. The crescents under his eyes were sunken and bluish. As a football player, he’d always had a tan, but that glow to his skin was long gone. Probably too many hours in a plane, or an office, or alone in his house.
I realized I didn’t even know what he did for a living, only that he seemed to travel a lot.
I hoped he spent his time alone in his house, and at the same time I didn’t.
Gods, I missed him.
“On you, it’s a good thing.” He began to let go, and I cringed at the loss of his warmth around me.
This many years from high school and I was still drunk on the quarterback. Go figure.
“Coffee,” I repeated to myself, trying to get back on task.
“Coffee would be good.”
He sat down at my table as I poured two cups. I loved my barista-style table but when Chris sat at it, it seemed more like a tea party table for a toddler. “Still no sugar but more cream than coffee?” I asked.
“Yes. You remember. The only thing I remember about your coffee was that you poured sugar in, instead of using a spoon.”
I laughed it off, but the truth was, I didn’t like him remembering that about me.
“Well, now I’m a Splenda and a splash of heavy cream kind of guy.”
He nodded and watched me sit down after sliding him a cup. “I’ll have to make a note of that.”
“Of what?”
He laughed again. “Of how you take your coffee.”
I pretended Chris remembering how I took my coffee wasn’t the most sigh-worthy moment I’d had in a long time by stirring my cup vigorously.
“Hey, Tak?” he asked after taking a tiny sip, not near enough to wake anyone up fully.
“Yes?” I asked, a little too eager.
He ran his finger along the rim of his cup. “Do you remember that night after prom?”
Of course I remembered. That was the night his date dumped him, claiming it would never work when he went off to college. And that was also the prom I didn’t go to.
The tux I’d rented hadn’t fit.
Chris had spent the night in my room, which was an almost-everyday occurrence, but that night stuck out for me.
“I remember you coming to my window, drunk as a skunk and crying over...what was his name?”
Oh, I remembered his name.
“Derek,” he said with a bitter tone.
“Yeah. I remember. You passed out on my bed, and I had to sleep on the floor. I was afraid you’d puke on me.”
He moved his cup around and looked at the ceiling. “As I recall, we made a promise that night.”
I stopped breathing. The edges of my vision started to blur while my face heated. No, he couldn’t be talking about the promise we’d made. It was late. He was drunk and crying.
There was no way Chris remembered those solemn words I spoke that night.
“How do you know? You were drunk off your ass. I’m surprised you even remember sleeping at my place.” I laughed it off, trying like hell to think of a subject to turn the conversation to—anything but the words I thought were between me and the night.
“I remember, Tak.” He reached across my antique maple table and with his pinkie, played at my fingers. All I could do was stare.
“You have a mate,” I stated. I’d seen some pictures of him on Instagram but didn’t know if he had a mate or not.
I sucked at bluffing.
“I don’t. I have a job that keeps me moving everywhere, but no one to call home.”
I bit the inside of my cheeks. Chris Jacobson was single and in my kitchen and talking about a promise we made years ago, and I was no longer a chubby nerd who didn’t have a shot. Truth be told, I wouldn’t be so nervous if I was chunkier.
This wasn’t happening.
“No one to call home?” I said, focusing on the words that stuck out.
He shrugged. “Yeah, wherever your mate is, that’s where your home is. Right? I mean, you have a mate, don’t you? I scent another male in your home, but I see no ring or pictures.”
I bit down on my bottom lip. “The only males that come in here are customers and Will, and he doesn’t count.”
Chris squinted. “Why doesn’t he count?”
“Um, because he has a wife.”
He perked up. “Oh, so you are single. And I am single. And we said we’d get married if we were still single when we turned thirty.”
That’s when everything began to go dark and a ringing sound pierced my hearing.
The last thing I saw was the light above me and the sound of my chair scraping against the floor.