To See You (22 page)

S
aying good-bye was hard. When I walked into the bar earlier in the week, I thought Layton and I would have a good time and share some quick laughs. That’s it. I never expected him to spend the night—or to look the way he did.

God, I had just made up my mind that I liked him. He was witty, funny, and caring. And now he was freaking gorgeous.

It made me take pause and question who I was . . . even more than I’d already done. I’d certainly judged the hell out of him when I first saw him on the plane. Torn between my mom begging me to date Garrett and Janie’s criteria for the type of guy I should date, I didn’t want to like Layton.

But I did anyway, and had fought it by ditching him via an SOS call from Janie.

He continued to remain true to who he was, a nice guy, and I had finally come to terms with that. And then bam! Suddenly he was a hottie too.

My phone rang early on Sunday after Layton went back. He’d flown out Friday afternoon, needing to get back because the movie was behind schedule and they were shooting today. It was a pivotal scene and he needed to be there. Otherwise, I was certain he would have stayed.

Or maybe it was wishful thinking on my part.

“Hello, J,” I said, sipping my coffee. I’d been up, staring into space and dreaming of my time with Layton.

I’d turned into
that
girl.

“Come on, we’re going spinning and then for brunch,” Janie said. “You’re going to fill me in whether you want to or not.”

I stared at my bare feet, my pink-polished toes splayed on the hardwood.

“Janie . . . really?”

“Really. See you at the spin place in an hour. We’re gonna sweat our butts off and then your mouth is gonna be running.”

“Okay.”

I hung up and tossed on a pair of leggings and a to-and-from-yoga top, threw my spinning shorts and shoes in a bag, and filled a water bottle. Janie had been hot on my trail since I mentioned Layton was coming.

Janie greeted me outside the spinning studio without even a hello. “You’re the one who went MIA for forty-eight hours . . . don’t give me that look.”

“It’s freezing out here,” I said, ignoring her comment as I hoisted the door open. I went straight to the changing room and plopped down on the bench to remove my UGGs and put on my shorts.

“Charleston, I thought something happened to you. If I hadn’t seen your picture on Instagram on Thursday of your run with him, I would’ve called the police.” She shoved off her lululemon leggings, no shame in being commando, and tugged on mini biker shorts.

I actually heard a small note of panic in her voice as she sat down next to me, and felt horrible about not touching base with my best friend for days. I broke girl code.

“I’m sorry. I just got so swept away. And, well, Layton is hot now.”

“Um, I can see that in the picture. Even with that blurry filter, I can make out all his hotness.”

“But he’s also so kind and funny, and really genuine. He’s a good one.”

She ran her hand down my hair, braiding and tying it, when I bent over to put my shoes on.

“I’m truly sorry I worried you. He blew into town like a hurricane and then stayed a day longer, but he had to leave and go back home. I sat staring at my laptop like a jilted woman yesterday.”

She stood and tugged my hand, gathering me into her arms.

“You’re crazy silly, Charli. You’re a girl
in like
and I forgive you, but next time I’m going to call the cops. You had me so nervous, I could’ve spit, and I was pacing like my mom waiting for her brisket to be finished.”

I laughed. “Come on, let’s spin, and then we can chat over coffee.”

“I have to go somewhere where they have almond milk,” Janie said as we left the locker room, clicking in our spinning shoes.

“Oh God, what now?”

“Listen, not all of us are so lucky to work out and eat what we want and then find love.”

I punched her arm.

“Okay, find
like
. But seriously, you’re such a happier person now that you write and eat a bit more. Me, I’ve got to watch my Jewish thighs. Lord help me if I gain another ounce. So I cut out dairy.”

“That’s nuts, but okay. Only almond milk for you.”

We spun, changed back into our clothes, and wrapped our sweaty bodies in our coats and walked down the street to a small coffee shop in the Village. We ordered and found ourselves a private table in the corner so I could tell Janie the whole story.

Well, most of it. I kept what Layton did with his mouth to myself.

I also kept my growing panic over how I didn’t deserve him to myself.

T
he week dragged on. The producers were adamant that we wrap filming, and they were bugging me day and night for tweaks. In between redoing the sound track, I ran miles, logged a few more miles with Harriette, and obsessed over Charli.

I wanted more than anything to be back there in her apartment, rolling in her lavender sheets with her in her pink panties and glossed lips. If I concentrated, I could still smell her on my shirt, but it wasn’t enough. Still, I had a job, one I’d worked hard for, and she was doing her thing. It was what it was.

What would be enough?

I e-mailed her every morning and she usually responded right away because of the time difference. We’d only spoken twice, and planned to get together in two weeks. She was going to come here for Saint Patty’s weekend, which scared the ever-loving shit out of me.

Did she expect to meet my friends? They were pretty much all I had since my parents were older and lived in a nursing facility.

Weird, I’d never even told her that. Would she care? Would she think I was callous? Maybe that’s why I didn’t say anything. Would she think my friends were dorks?

The questions tumbled in my head as my feet slapped against the pavement. I would need a new pair of running shoes by the time she showed up in March at the rate I was going.

I dropped down on the grass in front of my place and did one set of twenty push-ups and then another, alternating with sets of sit-ups. It was my own version of boot camp adopted from my workouts with Ryan.

Sweat dripped into my eyes and I swiped it away before going after my push-ups like a man in prison and they were my only purpose of the day.

Charli had mentioned that her friend Janie wanted to meet me. What would she think? I was pretty sure she was the one who was involved with that whole rescue-me gig at Zao’s.

Christ, I was fucked.

I was back in high school all over again, plotting out some weekend party on the bleachers, and I hated it back then. What made me think I’d like it now?

Two Weeks Later

N
erves were threatening to knock me over as I leaned against the wall in baggage claim. I was that nervous. Despite e-mailing, texting, chatting, and the occasional FaceTime session, anxiety wormed its way into every one of my body’s cells as I waited for Charli to arrive. The last time, I was prepared for disappointment and/or saying good-bye. But it had ended way better than I could have dreamed.

Now she was coming to see me, and it could go one way or another. My gut said another.

“Hey!”

I startled, so deep in thought I didn’t even see her approach.

“Hey.” I wrapped my arms around her and squeezed her tight. Apparently my limbs had a mind of their own when it came to Charli.

We’ve been intimate
, I reminded myself.
It’s okay.

She collapsed into my embrace, our body heat mingling through my jean jacket and her thick sweater, and seventy-five percent of my nerves dissipated. Maybe if I got her naked, the rest would go away?

No, that’s not the point. She’s not here for only sex.

“You good?” she asked me.

Shit, I’d been crazy caught up in my head.

“I’m good, just thinking about how awesome this is. You’re here. For a moment, I was convinced I was dreaming.”

She pinched my arm. “I’m here.”

“You have bags?”

“Of course.”

We walked over to the carousel and waited, a pregnant pause hanging between us.

“You know,” she said, “I heard that for every two minutes of a conversation, there’s seven seconds of silence.”

I pulled her in again and kissed the top of her head. “I’m sorry. This just caught me by surprise, how happy I am to see you. I mean, I knew I’d be happy, but this is different. Overwhelming. And it’s early.”

“In a good way, I hope? Good overwhelming?”

“Extremely good.”

“By the way, don’t mention early. I’m on East Coast time, and I’ve already flown here from JFK. Do you know how early I had to be there?”

I kissed her cheek, tucked her hair behind her ear, and whispered, “I’m a lucky man for it.”

She ran her palm over my cheek and smiled. No words were needed to convey she was happy to be here. The clammy sweat on my palms dried up.

“So, what’s going on?” she asked. “What’s our plan?”

And just like that, the last few lingering nerves flitted away. I didn’t even need sex. Just the idea of us having plans.

“Well, it’s Friday, so most of the guys try to cut out of whatever they’re doing early. So happy hour later. But first, maybe a little tour? Lunch? Quiet time?”