“It’s you. Losing you is my regret.” His voice breaks on the last word and he takes my hands in his. “I’m trying to take this slow. I’m trying not to push you, but please tell me we’re moving forward?” The desperation in his voice sounds like he’s pleading with a higher power on his deathbed for just one more minute on this Earth.
“Dean,” I sigh, sliding my hands from under his and standing and stepping toward the fountain.
“Why can’t you answer me?” He comes up alongside me.
Thankfully, most people aren’t lingering around and the people who are aren’t paying us any attention.
I sigh. “You’re asking a lot of me.”
I admire the water shooting, the colors, again trying not to feel the pull to Dean.
“What else do I have to do to prove to you before you’ll give us an honest chance?” he asks.
“I’ve let you take me out twice, you’ve kissed me, and if I make good on the bet, you get to feel me up tonight.” I turn his way and a smile graces his lips.
Of course, it does. What guy doesn’t want to feel up a pair of titties?
“I’m not doing that unless you want me to. You do want me to though, right?” he chuckles, his arms wrapping around my waist and pulling me close. “I know you feel it.” He brushes a stray hair off my cheek and tucks it behind my ear. “When are you going to start being honest with yourself?”
Question of the century.
Can’t people want someone but never act on it if they know it’s bad for them?
“I can’t deny it, Dean. That’s not my hesitation.”
For some reason, rather than stepping away, I move closer, needing to feel him. Needing to let him shelter me and loving the safety of his arms.
“I’m afraid.” I rest my chin on his chest, staring up at him. “I won’t make it through another heartbreak from you.” A single tear slips from my eye. “You didn’t see me after.”
“And you didn’t see me.” He wipes the tear with his thumb before it falls down my cheek. “I might’ve been the cause of our divorce, but it was no easier on me. It took me a long time to get my shit together, but I did. I’m an impatient man. I waited a long time to come for you, but I’m here, and I’ll wait until you’re ready, Chelsea. Just tell me I’m on the right path. Tell me I’m winning this battle and I’ll continue to fight to win the war.”
I stare into his chocolate eyes, and without thinking nearly enough about my decision, I let my heart speak for me.
Stretching up on my tiptoes, I place my hands on his shoulders to steady myself and press my lips to his. Warmth spreads through my body and I fall back down to my heels. “You’re winning.”
His hand slowly moves to my neck and he pulls me into his chest, one arm tight around my waist, the other one cupping the back of my head.
“Here.” He lets me go and digs into his pocket, retrieving two pennies. He places one in my palm. “Make a wish.”
I take it from his hand, walking the distance to the edge of the fountain. Closing my eyes, I wish for something I’ve wished for before at a fountain located a thousand miles away on the Vegas Strip. This time I hope whoever grants fountain wishes hears me.
Dean kisses his penny and tosses it in.
“What did you wish for?” I ask.
“I’m hoping the same thing you did.” He takes my hand in his again. “Now I want you to fill me in on everything I missed over the past five years.” He guides me down the path farther into Grant Park.
I chuckle. “In a nutshell, I got my degree and had a string of jobs until I landed this one.”
“Come on. I want all the details. I want it to be like I missed no time in your life.”
“Well, I walked out of our apartment and sat in my car for an hour…”
He frowns for a second and then says, “Let’s skip to a few months after you left me.” There’s no anger in his voice, just a calm acceptance.
“I transferred to the city.”
For the next hour, I tell him about going to school in the city versus the country town where we met. We discuss the reason I couldn’t seem to find a job I liked, about how I ended up at RISE. My parents, Skylar and Beckett, Zoe and Vin. Lastly, he admits he saw Mikey at a club three years ago. When he asked about me, Mikey punched him in the face.
“He did not!” I cover my mouth with my hand, aghast as we approach his bike.
“I told him I missed you and wanted your number.” He hands me the helmet.
“I guess he didn’t like that?” I strap it on.
“I had to tell my boss I got elbowed in a basketball game.”
“Why did you wait so long? You could have looked me up.”
“It wasn’t the right time, I’m glad Mikey knew that.” He puts on his own helmet. “How about a ride for old time’s sake?”
I smile. “Thought you’d never ask.”
“The sun’s heading down pretty fast, so just a quick one up Lake Shore and then back to your place.”
I nod, climbing on the bike ready to assume my koala bear position. “Dean?”
“Yeah?” He waits to start the bike.
“Go to your place after the ride.”
He doesn’t turn around, but he places his hands over mine where they rest around his stomach.
“Are you sure?”
My arms tighten around him and I nuzzle my head. “I’m positive.”
“You sure you still want the ride?”
I giggle. “A romantic ride down the lakefront sounds like great foreplay.”
“Screw the bike, I’ve got other foreplay moves.”
He turns the ignition, the bike roaring to life. Doing a u-turn, we head the other way.
I take one giant step to the edge of the cliff praying it’s deep water below and not just a bunch of jagged rocks.
Forty-five minutes later, the sun has slipped beneath the horizon. When I come out of my dazed state, we’re pulling into a garage. He parks the bike and for once, Dean says nothing, leading me to the elevator, and pressing the button.
My hand is in his and my body is hyper-aware of our proximity, my thoughts focused on what we’re about to do.
He presses floor nineteen and we ride up in silence. Is this weighing on both of us? We’re about to make a decision that we can’t take back.
The doors slide open, and he holds his hand out in front of him for me to step out first. Then his hand is tucked around mine again. My heart pounds as we bypass door after door until we reach the one at the end of the hall. Apartment nineteen twenty-one.
Dean lives in apartment nineteen twenty-one.
There’s something weird about not knowing where he lived until this moment. I can’t help but wonder what’s on the other side of the door.
I lived with Dean for four short months. I knew his bad habits of toothpaste all over the sink, of leaving empty shampoo bottles in the shower, not rinsing dishes before putting them in the dishwasher. I knew what he smelled like in the morning, or how he couldn’t sleep without his hand on my ass.
Now, I know nothing. For a man I thought I knew everything about, I’m just now realizing I no longer know anything about the man beside me.