“Son, you’re jumpier than a tick on a griddle.” Pops glared at me from his seat at the kitchen table. “I don’t think you were this nervous before your first game with the pros.”
I kicked at the table leg. “I didn’t have this much at stake with that game. This—today—is everything. And what the hell are you talking about, a tick on a griddle? Have you been watching westerns again? You always start talking like the camp cook after you binge on them.”
Pops gave a half-grin. “Maybe I did sit in front of the television for five hours yesterday when the cowboy marathon was on. But don’t try to change the subject. What time are you picking up your girl?”
I stifled a sigh. “We don’t know that she’s my girl, Pops. Not yet. And I’m not picking her up. We’re meeting at a coffee shop.” I glanced at my watch. “In an hour and a half.”
“Why’re you ready so early, then?” He sounded innocent, but I knew he was messing with me. The twinkle in his eyes gave him away.
“Glad you’re getting such a kick out of my suffering.” I slid back my chair away from the table and stood up to open the fridge. “Is there any of that barbecue left over from last night?”
“No, I finished it for lunch.” He studied me. “Tate, what’s got you the most worried about today? You said Gia sounded better when you were messaging.”
“She did. She sounded . . . healthy. And . . . I don’t know. Good. But it’s hard to tell over texts.” I sat down again and swallowed hard. “I don’t know if she just wants to see me so that she can apologize for what happened before, or if she wants to be friends again . . . or what. Part of me is just so happy about seeing her again, and the other part is thinking that there’s no way we can just pick back up where we left things.”
“That’s the voice you should listen to.” Pops nodded. “Because you’re not going to pick back up. That would be impossible. Months have passed, and in many ways, you’re not the same people you were back then. You were both hurt when you broke up, and you’ve grown in different ways. But you saw something in each other before—and you were friends—and no matter what, that can happen again. It might be that’s the way to go—get back to being friends, and see what happens from there.” He patted my arm. “No matter what, Tate, it’s going to require patience. You’re going to have to give Gia some space to show you who she is now.”
“I’d do anything for her.” One side of my mouth curled up. “I want to tell her that right away, but then, I’m afraid of scaring her off. So I figured I’d let her take the lead. But I don’t want her to feel as though I’m mad at her for what happened.”
“Aren’t you?” Pops cocked an eyebrow at me. “Seems to me that you were angry for a while.”
“I was angry at the situation. I was angry at Matt, for what he put her through and how that made Gia react to me. I’m still pissed that he made her feel she wasn’t whole, or that she wasn’t good enough for me. But I’m not mad at her.”
“Maybe you should be. Matt Lampert may have treated your girl badly and broken her heart, but Gia knew from the beginning that you weren’t him. When we’d sit up on our porch together, watching you work in the yard, she used to sing your praises the whole time. She thought the sun rose and set on your head. But she still made the choice to walk away from you. No one forced her to do that.”
“I thought you liked Gia.” I frowned at my grandfather.
“I did. I do. I think she’s a lovely girl, and I think she loves you the way you deserve to be loved. I hope she realizes it.” He rose to his feet, wincing a little as he put weight on his sore hip. “And I think that if you’re both willing to work at it, what you’ll have together will be even better than what it was before. Now, this old man is going to lie down with a book. You should get on your way. Might be traffic this time of day.”
I looked at my watch again. “If I leave now, I’ll get to the coffee shop way too early.”
“That’s okay. At least you’ll be there, driving those people crazy instead of annoying your poor elderly grandpa.”
I shook my head. “Fine. I’ll go. Thanks for the empathy, support and the listening ear.” I made sure my sarcasm was impossible to miss.
“You’re welcome.” He paused, glancing at me over his shoulder. “Good luck, son. I hope it goes well.”
“That makes two of us,” I muttered to myself as I picked up my keys and swung out the door.
When Gia and I had begun texting on Sunday, I’d been eager to set up a time to see her, face to face. From her response, I thought she felt the same way, but we still had to maneuver around my schedule of practices and team meetings as well as her work and school hours. As it had happened, late afternoon Thursday was the first opening for both of us.
Gia had chosen the coffee shop on the corner near her apartment, although I knew she didn’t live there anymore; Leo had confirmed my assumption that she’d moved in with Zelda. Still, it was a neutral territory we both knew. As I parked my car down the block and walked toward the bistro, I wondered if the cute barista Gia used to talk about in such glowing terms still worked there.
I pushed open the door, looking around for a table that would be visible from the entrance so Gia could find me easily, but private enough that we could talk without anyone bothering us. When I glanced to the corner, Gia was there sitting in a booth, a full thirty minutes before our planned meeting time.
My feet moved toward her as though of their own free will, and she rose to her feet, stepping away from the table. My first impression was that she looked different. Her hair was the same, the silky black strands cut short and framing her face, and her brown eyes were still wide and deep. She wasn’t quite as thin and brittle-looking as she’d been when we’d first reconnected last winter, but then again, she’d seemed healthier once I’d begun cooking for her on a regular basis. But right now, today, she looked damned good.
She wore jeans that clung to her ass and a light gray cotton shirt that accented her chest without being trashy. The neckline dipped low enough to tease, but not so much as to give too much away. The bottom of the shirt flared and swirled at the waistband. I had the distracted thought that it would be so easy to sneak my hands underneath to skim over her stomach . . . but I held that in check, because something like that would definitely be moving too fast.
Still, what was different didn’t have as much to do with any physical, tangible change as it did with the way she held herself, with the light in her eyes and with the eager smile she offered me as I drew near.
“Tate.” She held out her arms to me, and I pulled her close, resting my face just over the top of her head and sniffing her tantalizing scent. “You’re early.”
“Hey, pretty sure you beat me here, honey pot.” The endearment slipped out before I could stop it, and I drew back a little, worried I’d jumped in too fast, too soon.
But Gia only smiled wider, shaking her head. “I know. I was just . . . I couldn’t sit at home any longer. I was driving Zelda nuts. She was working from home today, and she basically told me to settle down or leave. I figured I might as well come here and hang out. What’s your excuse?”
She sounded so sassy that I just had to hug her again before we both slid into the booth opposite each other.
“My excuse is pretty much the same. Pops said I was making him crazy, so I should come here and bother the nice people at the coffee shop instead.”
She laughed. “Apparently, we’re both irritating the people we live with.” She shifted a little on the bench, tucking her foot up beneath her. “I’m so glad to see you, Tate. I’ve missed you.”
I steeled myself not to reach out to thread our fingers together. “I missed you, too. So much. I . . .” I coughed, needing to cover up the emotion that was threatening to overwhelm me. “I’m glad you messaged me. I had almost given up.”
“I’m sorry, Tate.” Gia folded her hands on the table. “I’ve been practicing and rehearsing what I wanted to say since we set up the time to meet. There’s so much I want to tell you, and I know you must have questions for me. But I need to begin by saying that I’m so sorry for how much I hurt you. I didn’t mean to do it . . . and if I could undo that, I would.” She inhaled deeply and straightened. “But as much as I regret it, and as sorry as I am, I know I had to do that. I could have made it happen with a little more grace, but at that point, I didn’t have it in me.”
“Gia, anything you needed, you know you only had to tell me. I would’ve given you anything in the world. I still would.” I leaned back, drinking her in, noticing the calm strength on her face.
“I know you would have. I just didn’t know how to do anything other than what I did. I felt like I was dying. I was so terrified of hurting you, of destroying you the way . . .” She trailed off. “Well, maybe I’m getting ahead of myself.” She managed a small smile. “I didn’t get my coffee yet. Do you want anything?”
“Ah, I’ll get it.” I stood up. “What’ll it be?”
“Just a regular coffee with almond milk, please. Zelda’s converted me to drinking it that way.”
“I’ll be right back.”
I took advantage of the time in line to pull myself back together. When I reached the barista, he greeted me with a smile that was full of admiration and invitation.
“Hey.” He drew it out a few extra syllables. “What can I get for you today?”
I leaned on the counter. “Two regular coffees, please—one black and one with almond milk.”
“Coming right out.” He rang me up, and I paid before moving to the end of the counter to wait for the drinks. Carrying them back to the table, I set down the lighter one in front of Gia before I took my seat.
“The barista,” I began. “Um, the one who just gave me our coffee . . .”
Gia grinned, her eyes dancing. “Yes? What about him? Didn’t I tell you he was hot? Was I wrong?”
I glanced over my shoulder to where the dude was chatting up a couple of girls who were trying to decide what to order. I guessed he was attractive, though not necessarily in a way I would appreciate.
“Yeah, he is. But did you know—”
“That he would be more into you than me? Of course, I knew it.” She winked at me. “But you never asked. And I’ll admit that it gave me a little boost whenever you were all jealous of me talking about the sexy coffee guy.”
“Yeah, because you live to torture me.” I mock-glared at her.
Some of the humor left her face. “I really don’t.” Tentatively, she reached across the table to lay her fingers over mine. “I don’t like to cause you any kind of pain or misery. Believe it or not, that’s actually why I ended things before. I couldn’t have explained to you then, but after months of therapy, I’m happy to say that I understand a little better now.”
“Therapy?” I cocked my head. “You talked to someone?”
“I did. It wasn’t easy, and I wasn’t a great patient at first, but Darla is very good at what she does. I don’t think I’ve solved all the problems of the universe, but I know myself better, if that’s worth anything.”
“If it brought you back to me, I’ll take it.” I flipped my hand under hers so that our palms were touching. “Gia, I don’t want to push you or rush anything—”
“Tate, do you know how much you say that? Almost since the night you found me in the chip aisle, you’ve been promising me that you don’t want to rush me into anything. And maybe I needed to hear it back then, because if I hadn’t, I might never have given us a chance. I’m glad I did that. No matter how much I fucked it up at the end, what we had made me want . . . more than the way I’d been living.”
“You want more than . . . us?” I didn’t want to believe that was what she meant.
“I want more than what we were before.” She squeezed my hand. “I don’t know what you’re thinking or what’s been happening in your life since we broke up, but you always promised me honesty. And you always delivered on that, whether I wanted to hear it or not. I’m going to promise you the same.”
My stomach clenched. “Okay. I appreciate that.”
Gia held my gaze, her eyes boring deep within me, until I felt . . . peace. This woman sitting across from me, holding my hand, might be more confident and serene than she’d been before, but I could see my Gia still there, the girl who’d stolen my heart and tattooed her name all over it. She wasn’t here to say good-bye or let’s just be friends.
“I’m going to be incredibly and uncharacteristically optimistic, and I’m going to believe what you said that last night—that you’d wait for me forever. I’m going to assume you’re not madly in love with someone else.”
“How could I be?” I couldn’t stop myself from speaking. “You’re the only one I see, Gia. You’re the only one I could ever see.”
Tears brimmed in her eyes. “Then I’m going to be brave and impetuous and jump right into the deep end. I’m going to tell you that I want forever with you. I didn’t give you any reason to believe me before, but this time is different. I was going to say that I wanted us to try again, but I don’t want to try. I just want us to be us. I want to wake up in the morning and be excited about seeing you, and I want to go to sleep at night with a huge smile on my face, remembering something you’ve said during the day.”
I wasn’t sure I trusted myself to speak, but I gave it a shot. “I want that, too. Only I want to be there when you wake up in my arms, and I want to see that smile on your face as you fall asleep.”
Gia closed her eyes, and a single tear tracked down her cheek. “There was a time when I’d have said I don’t deserve a second chance with you. But now I think we make our own happiness and chances. We choose them.” Her eyelids opened, and she regarded me seriously. “I still need us to go slowly, Tate. Maybe I’d have been smarter to tell you today that we should start with friendship and then see what happens, but I couldn’t wait. I don’t want to play games with anything this important.”
“We’ll take it slow,” I agreed. “You set the pace.”
“We have so much to catch up on.” She gave me that tantalizing half-smile that always set my heart racing. “I want to hear all about Pops and how you’re feeling about the team . . . and I want to tell you about working with the Foundation—oh, and guess what! I got a promotion at work. It’s nothing huge, but I’m doing actual writing now, instead of just the idiot intern jobs.” She wrapped both of her hands around mine and gave a little all-over body shake. “I have so much to tell you . . . I don’t know where to start.”
“Take your time, sweetheart.” I rubbed my thumb over her knuckles. “We have nothing but time.”
This time, her eyes sparkled with so much joy that I could feel it to my soul.
“Lots of tomorrows,” she murmured. “And all of mine are yours.”
We stayed at the coffee shop talking until they closed up around us, and the hot barista had to come over and apologetically throw us out. But before then, we covered a lot of ground.
“I never gave up on us.” Tate played with my fingers where they rested on his palm. “I felt like a stalker, calling you and texting you . . . and I was terrified when you didn’t answer. I went to your apartment and knocked on your door until one of your neighbors took pity on me. She said she’d heard that you were staying with a friend for a while, so at least I was pretty sure you were okay.” He let out a long breath. “I’d been kind of afraid that maybe you’d do something terrible. To yourself.”
“I’m so sorry. I was so wrapped up in my own misery that I didn’t even think you might have worried about that.” But I could see why it might have crossed his mind.
“After that, I did something I’m not proud of.” He ducked his head. “I went to the television studio, and I sat across the street in the late afternoon. I watched for you to come out. I didn’t follow you or anything like that, because I thought that was crossing the line into crazy town. I’d already figured you were probably staying with Zelda, anyway, if you were still in town. But it made me feel slightly better to see you with my own eyes and know you were going to work.”
“I wondered why you didn’t try to come see me at school or at work,” I confessed. “I think I was mostly afraid that if you had, I wouldn’t have been strong enough to send you away again.”
“It wasn’t for lack of wanting to do it, but Pops talked me down. He said that I needed to give you space. I didn’t like it at all, but I did listen.” Tate drained the last of his second cup of coffee. “And then I called Leo. I wanted him to convince you to talk to me. And I wasn’t very nice when he told me that he couldn’t do that.”
I winced. “Poor Leo. Being the go-between was tough on him.”
Tate shrugged. “We’re better now. We talked it out. What he said made sense, but at the time, I wasn’t ready to listen.”
“I don’t think he holds a grudge. And right now, he and Quinn are so happy, it’s positively disgusting.” I laughed a little. “I’m thrilled for those two.”
“Yeah, I am, too. I saw the video of them together on opening day. They were both floating about five feet off the ground.”
“Speaking of opening day, I really did love watching your game on TV. The announcers talked about you and everything. I was so proud of you.”
His cheeks flushed. “It was a good game for the whole team. A hard-fought win.” He rubbed his thumb over my knuckles. “Are you still interested in coming to a game or two? I, ah, I might have reserved you a ticket. For the whole season, in the friends and family box.”
My mouth dropped open. “When did you do that?”
Tate grinned sheepishly. “The minute the front office offered them to us. It was a way of investing in my hope—of believing against everything logical that you’d want to use that seat at some point. It’s yours now, for as many games as you want to see.”
I rested my chin in my hand. “All of them. I want to be there for them all.”
His dimple showed me just how happy that made him. “I’ll make sure you have a pass and an ID card to get in, then. I’ll have it in your hands before our next home game.” A shadow passed over his eyes. “That reminds me, though, that I have a confession to make. I told you that I wasn’t interested in other women, even while we were apart, and that’s true. But a woman kissed me last week at the bar, after the game.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Who is she?”
Tate looked decidedly uncomfortable. “She’s a reporter, and I sat down with her for what I thought was a chat about the team. But she was looking for something else.” His lips pressed into a straight line. “I told her I wasn’t interested, though. I made that clear in no uncertain terms. Her kiss—it was pretty lackluster.”
One side of my mouth curled up. “Oh, yeah? She didn’t rock your world, huh?”
He shook his head. “Not hardly. Because she wasn’t you. I’ve been ruined for the rest of my life by Gia kisses, and now that I’ve had the real thing, I accept no substitutes.”
I couldn’t help the giddiness that danced inside me at hearing him say that. “I want to climb over this table right now and remind you how amazing our kisses are. But I promised myself we’d talk for a long time before we move onto things like kisses and groping and . . . more. I’ll be good, because I want to do everything right.” I paused for a moment, trying to think of how to say what I needed him to understand. “But even while we’re taking our time, never doubt for a minute that I’m dying to jump your bones. I dream about you every night.” I leaned forward and lowered my voice. “I still ache for you, Tate. All the time. I never stopped.”
He groaned softly. “Remind me again that we’re being cautious and careful because we want something that lasts. Right? This won’t be easy, but the payoff will be worth it. Tell me that again.”
“You always told me that the real thing was worth waiting for, didn’t you?” I linked both of our hands together, forming a bridge between us. “You waited for me for a long time before. This time, we’re both being patient. We’re both working toward the same goal. And that means the rewards are going to be . . .” I cast up my eyes, trying to think of the right word. “Forever. We’re working toward forever.”
Tate’s fingers tightened around mine. “When it comes to you and me, forever is my favorite word.”