Josh ~ Present day
I DIDN’T GET nervous; at least, not that I’d let anyone see. Not when I took on guys twice my size in school for saying shit about my father, not when I enlisted in the military to avoid jail, and not when training pushed my every limit and made me dread opening my eyes each day. But now, standing in front of the door of the only girl I ever loved, the one I hadn’t seen in almost ten years—that scared the shit out of me.
I told her to forget about me, but she never did. Fuck knows I could never forget her. We wrote letters a few times a month for the years I was away. Just as we did for our entire lives, we told each other everything—but always seemed to skate around one detail. Was she with anyone? I never had the balls to come out and ask, and neither of us volunteered anything. I exhaled and wiped the sweat off my brow as my boots crunched the brittle yellow leaves leading to her door. If she was, she was. I wanted her to have a good life. She deserved that. She was sweet and innocent but always stuck up for my sorry ass and looked out for me since we were kids. At the end of every dark and terrible day, she was my bright spot. All these years later, that’s how I still thought of her. My light out of the darkness.
This was always my plan. Once I finished active duty and served the rest of my time in the Army, I’d get on my own two feet, come back, and finally make her mine. As much as I wanted her to wait for me, I couldn’t make that request. I was a bastard of a kid, but not cruel, especially not to her. How could I be? Her goodbye embrace and kiss on my cheek got me through all these years. If she was taken, I’d have to hold on to that for a little longer—like forever.
Jesus H, Josh. Pull your panties up and just knock on the damn door.
“Just a minute!” Twenty-eight-year-old Brianna Morgan sounded as sweet as the seventeen-year-old version. I’d bet she was still as beautiful, too. I shut my eyes and wiped my sweaty tattooed hand on my black jeans. Could I get a fucking grip? I didn’t even know when the door opened.
“Josh? Oh my God!” Brianna covered her mouth with her hands, her eyes growing saucer wide. “Is it . . .” I laughed to myself as she looked me up and down. She gulped as her jaw quivered. “Is it really you?”
My eyes drank her in as I held in a sigh. Grown up Brianna Morgan wasn’t only beautiful, she was breathtaking.
“Hi, Cupcake.”
Brianna threw her arms around my neck and tackled me with a hug. I wrapped my arms around her and lifted her up by the waist. I buried my head in her neck while she squealed. I was home—back home with my girl—and I didn’t want to put her down. The familiar vanilla scent filled my senses. Everything about her was always so damn sweet. I set her back on her feet, her glossy eyes roaming my face as she beamed at me.
“But . . .” Brianna blinked and shook her head, as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. “I just heard from you last week. You didn’t say anything—”
I kept my hands on her tiny waist. “I wanted to surprise you. Uncle Billy is opening that second shop after all, and he sent me back here to run it.” After the military, I worked for my uncle’s custom bike shop. I mentioned in my last letter he was tinkering with opening a store in New York, but I never said anything about possibly moving back to run it.
“I can’t believe it.” Brianna framed my face, her shaky hands pressing into my cheeks as if she were afraid I would disappear again. Warmth flooded my chest at the joy on her face. “Come in.” She pulled me inside and shut the door behind me.
I gazed around her apartment. She had a small eat-in kitchen, a love seat instead of a couch in the middle of her living room, and my heart sank into my stomach when I met the gaze of the guy sitting on it.
“I’m Scott.” He strutted over to me with an extended hand. “You must be Josh. The old best friend from the letters. Nice to finally meet you. I didn’t know people actually wrote letters anymore.” He snickered as he looked between us. I plastered on a big smile to hide my disappointment. I’d hoped, but hadn’t expected her to be alone.
“That’s me. I guess we’re different.” I’d gotten so used to sending letters that it never occurred to me to switch to email like the rest of the twenty-first century. Brianna suggested phone calls a few times, but I always made up an excuse. Hearing each other’s voices before we were ready, or before I was ready, would have done more harm than good to both of us. Letters kept us close in a special way but allowed me a comfortable distance. I could tell this guy wouldn’t understand that, and I didn’t feel the slightest need to explain. That was my piece of Brianna no one would touch.
“Nice to meet you. I hope I didn’t interrupt your night—”
“Not at all. I’m on my way to a business dinner, just dropped by to see my girl for a little bit beforehand.” Scott picked up Brianna’s hand and brought it to his lips. I didn’t miss the side glance he gave me as he did it. It’d been a long time since the overwhelming urge to punch someone boiled in my gut. I hated the familiarity in the way he touched her. That should’ve been me she giggled at with a blush in her cheeks. She was my girl long before she was anyone else’s. Too bad I never told her.
“Did I hear you call her Cupcake?” Scott tilted his head as he narrowed his eyes at us.
Brianna smiled as she found my gaze. “Josh has called me that since kindergarten.” She tore her eyes away and brought them back to Scott. “When I was little, I loved cupcakes.”
“Doesn’t every kid?” Scott squinted at her, still holding her hand. Not that it bothered me or anything.
“In kindergarten, that’s all she would eat. Those little chocolate cakes with the white squiggles on the top. She gave me her real lunch and only ate the cupcake. It was our little secret, so I started calling her Cupcake, and it stuck.” She took care of me from the beginning, when I didn’t have a mother to pack me a real lunch for school. I probably loved her even then; I just didn’t know what the hell it was. Brianna was my center. But all these years later, I didn’t expect the pull toward her to be this powerful.
“Well, I better go. You guys probably want to catch up.” Scott kissed Brianna’s lips before heading out the door, igniting a burn of jealousy. Coming back into Brianna’s life as a caveman wasn’t my intention. I had no right, not after all these years, and definitely not after I withheld how I felt. Keeping it from her was the right thing to do, though, no matter how much it made me feel like shit right now.
After Scott left, I followed Brianna as she crossed the living room. I dropped my gaze to her left hand and breathed a sigh of relief at the absence of a ring.
“So . . .” She took in a deep breath and folded her hands under her chin, then turned to me once we were in her kitchen. “There’s so much I want to say . . . so much I want to tell you. I just . . . I feel like I’m dreaming.”
A jolt ran through me as I squeezed her hand. I let my thumb drift back and forth over her wrist as the air stilled between us. A dichotomy of emotions flooded through me. I was so happy to see her, yet furious that I was too late. But, either way, I was in her life to stay. I intended to reclaim my best friend, even if she couldn’t be mine.
“We have all night.” I pulled a seat out from her table and motioned for her to sit. “Or until you throw me out.” We both settled at the table and met each other’s gaze for a long minute.
“No way. I can’t believe you’re back. And running your own business!”
“Wait,” I raised my hands and shook my head. “It’s Uncle Billy’s business. I’m just the manager.”
Brianna sucked her teeth as she frowned at me. “You always loved cars and bikes. I remember that afternoon at your house when you took apart an engine just to see if you could put it back together.”
I laughed and shook my head. “Almost had it, too. I got shit from the old man when his car wouldn’t start the next day, though. Always the bad seed.”
“No.” Brianna’s face hardened as she glared at me. “You weren’t. In fact, don’t panic, but I think you’re a success story now.” Her mouth twisted in a smirk.
I gasped an exaggerated breath and clutched my chest. “Bite your tongue. God forbid! Who am I, if I’m not the local troublemaker?” I laughed, but she frowned in response.
Brianna leaned back in her chair and sighed. “You never were. Not to me. You had it rough and, yeah, got into some trouble.”
“Some? Like the ocean has ‘some’ water in it?” I shook my head as I broke my gaze from hers. Even after all I put her through, she only saw the best in me. I couldn’t accept it back then, and I sure as shit didn’t deserve it now.
She leaned over and rested her palm on my chest, over my heart. “This was always good. You could pretend with everyone else, but not with me. I’m proud of you.”
I reached up and rested my hand on hers as a lump formed in my throat. When I left, that was all I wanted. When I saw her again, I wanted her to see a man with his shit together, who’d be worthy of her. Those four words falling from her lips were like hitting a jackpot to me.
Unfortunately, now she was someone else’s fortune.
“Enough about me.” I pulled my hand away and rested my elbows on the table. “I want to hear about you. You’re a writer now, right?”
“Copywriter.” Brianna corrected me with a bit of an eye roll. “Fairly big agency. I get to work on some cool stuff. The billboard on Jersey Turnpike, just before Route Seventeen, I wrote that headline. I take a picture every time we drive by.”
“That’s pretty cool. You’re famous.” I nudged her shoulder and she rolled her eyes.
“Yeah, okay. Welcome to my mansion. Ugh!” She slapped her forehead with her palm. “I am the worst hostess ever. I should make you something to eat. Or drink. You walked in and I . . .”
“You forgot everything else?” I gave her a playful wink and loved the giggle I got in return. “Pizza would be good for me. We have a lot of time to catch up on. You can make special mac and cheese for me another night.” I snickered and let my gaze fall to the table.
“It was your idea to mix Ritz crackers with blue box mac and cheese, and you loved it.” Brianna stood from the table, her eyes narrowing into slits. Her chestnut hair was almost blonde now and cascaded off her shoulders in waves. The curves that nearly forced me to carry my book bag in front to hide the bulge in my pants were still spectacular, only now they were lean and toned. Same tiny waist, same perfect breasts, same cherry red lips turned down in a scowl when I teased her. It all drove me even crazier. Every inch of her was so damn beautiful. Keeping it in the best friend zone would be a shitload tougher than I imagined. I shifted in my seat, hoping she wouldn’t notice me adjusting myself under the table.
“Sicilian still good?” Brianna smiled as she picked up the phone. “I have Coronas in the fridge, and a couple of limes, too.”
I let out a sad chuckle and nodded, remembering our days at my house, watching sweet Brianna’s face crinkle in disgust when she took her first sip of beer. Coronas became her beer of underage choice at the time. At least that was one of her firsts that was all mine. Things happened the way they had to, but with her, I always wished they were different . . . better.
“They said a half hour.” Brianna slid a bottle of beer in front of me, alongside three lime wedges on a tiny white plate.
“I always thought you’d be writing books now.”
She shrugged. “I have a book done, actually—the first draft anyway. I just can’t find the guts to do anything with it.”
I squinted at her as I took a sip from the beer bottle. “You’re kidding me, right? What happened to the one you made me read in school?”
She let out a long sigh and nodded. “That’s the one. To this day, you’re the only one who’s seen it or even knows about it.”
“Scott doesn’t know you like to write.” Since we were in grammar school, Brianna wrote constantly. Poems, riddles, we’d watch a show and she’d say, ‘What if it ended like this . . . ’ Granted, she annoyed the shit out of me sometimes, but her excitement was always adorable and infectious. I couldn’t see that not being a part of who she was anymore.
“He’s more a corporate type of guy. Just started his own accounting firm with his brother. Writing, designing—he really doesn’t take it too seriously. He’d laugh his ass off if he knew about my book.” She shook her head with a sad laugh and took a long gulp of beer.
“Where did you meet him? Have you guys been together long?”
“We started dating only a couple of years ago, but we met in college. He used to tease me that my creative writing classes were ‘cute.’” She held her fingers up in air quotes. “He wouldn’t be interested in reading my book.”
“Are you guys . . . serious?” Trying to keep a casual tone while praying she said no was pretty fucking difficult.
“Yeah, I guess so.” Brianna nodded as she took a sip of beer.
Hmm.
“Give it to me.”
Brianna drew back in her chair. “What?”
“The book. You tortured me with it in school; at least grant me the courtesy of seeing how it ends.”
Brianna laughed and shook her head. “Josh, you don’t have to—”
“I want to. I’ll give you my email address. Send it to me and I’ll start right away. And I don’t know Scott, but he’s wrong. It takes talent to put words together, to make people stop and pay attention. Whether it’s a billboard or a book, I think being able to do that is amazing.”
Her cheeks flushed as she dropped her gaze to the floor. “Thank you.”
You’re amazing is what I wanted to say. And if Scott didn’t think so, I was about to give him a run for his money.