As we were waiting for our coats to be brought out, Jack pointed at my lips with his fingers. He was smiling softly. “There is chocolate around your lips.”
I closed my eyes as I felt a rush of heat hit my cheeks.
Way to go, Rose. Way to go.
“I’ll be right back!”
“Rose, no, we need to—”
“Just a minute!” Yelling at him over my shoulder, I rushed to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. Sure enough, on the left edge of my mouth were the tell-tale signs of chocolate, and even worse than that, my runny nose was starting to make an appearance again. At least he hadn’t noticed that in the dark.
Pulling the completely soaked—yet again—tissue paper out of my nose, I tilted my head back when I felt a rush of liquid trailing down. Groaning, I made another ball of paper and pushed it up my nose, hoping it’d hold until we could reach the apartment. The last thing I wanted was for Jack to see me with a runny nose.
When I was done I rushed back to him. “Sorry, sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize to me. It’s fine,” he murmured.
A lot of things were fine this evening.
He held up my jacket and when I hesitated for a second, he raised an eyebrow and just waited. I pushed my arms in and let him settle the heavy weight of it on my shoulders. I turned to face him so we could leave and bundled myself tighter in my coat, knowing I was about to freeze my ass off the second I stepped outside.
Jack was right beside me as he opened the door, and I took my first step into the cold and busy night. With my right hand, I held the collar of my jacket closed and breathed out, watching it puff out in a cloud in front of me. On my third step, a warm hand gently slipped around my left one without a word, and I climbed down the stairs hand in hand with my husband as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
The number of times Jack Hawthorne smiled: three. (VICTORY IS MINE.)
Chapter Fourteen
Rose
I woke up in the middle of the night with a loud gasp and a light sheen of sweat covering my body. My breathing was labored and my heart rate was a little faster than I would’ve liked it to be. Feeling dazed and not sure where I was exactly, I looked around. The room was dark, but as my eyes adjusted to the sliver of light coming through the terrace doors thanks to the moon, I realized where I was: in my room at Jack’s apartment, where I had gone to sleep, but… I closed my eyes and groaned, letting myself drop back to my pillow. I turned to my side, facing the terrace doors, and just stared at nothing. It was…Sunday night, the night after the charity event.
And I had just dreamed of Jack.
I was so incredibly aware that what I had just seen wasn’t real, but it had felt real—real enough that I felt a vast emptiness inside me. I swallowed and turned onto my back, staring at the dark ceiling, trying to rein in my emotions. I could still feel his arms around me, his touch, could feel and hear his voice right next to my ear. I couldn’t remember the words, but I’d remember that low, gruff sound anywhere now, and when I’d looked back over my shoulder, Jack had been right there smiling at me.
I lifted my hand and touched my cheek where I could still feel the prickly sensation, a remnant of his stubble rubbing against my cheek. It felt so real that I had to close my eyes and try to feel the ghost of his touch.
I was screwed.
It all had felt so real.
In my dream, I was in love with Jack, and I was pretty sure he was in love with me too. When he kissed me, just a slow graze of his lips on mine, there had been no one around. It was just us. Then he smiled against my lips. We had both smiled, and I’d wrapped my arms around his neck and forced him into a longer, more satisfying kiss. I’d never felt a happiness like that. When we’d come up for air, we had both been smiling, him pushing my hair out of my face with his hands, our foreheads resting against each other as we caught our breaths.
There had been no one around.
No one to show off for.
Just us.
My feelings hadn’t just disappeared suddenly like the dream, though. They hadn’t changed. I could still remember what I’d felt. I still wanted him and that, more than anything, scared the hell out of me, because it wasn’t real and yet I could still feel it.
I breathed in and out of my mouth and kicked off the covers. It was too hot inside the room.
After a few minutes of just staring into the darkness of the ceiling, I closed my eyes and desperately tried to go back to sleep in the hopes that I could pick up exactly where I’d left off.
I tried and it didn’t work.
When I realized it wasn’t happening, I dropped my legs from the bed and gripped the edge of the mattress, just sitting there for a few minutes, trying my best to clear my mind.
This was all happening because of that damn kiss and all that touching and smiling at the charity event. I knew it, but the dream had been too much. Feeling so good about something, feeling so happy and then having that feeling just be a lie? The moment I’d woken up, I had felt the physical loss of him intensely.
Saturday night had ended as soon as we got back to the apartment. Jack had disappeared into his study or office or whatever the hell he called that place, our car ride having been just as uneventful. He hadn’t mentioned the kiss or seeing Jodi and Bryan and Joshua. And I…instead of sitting down and trying to process the fact that Joshua was now with my cousin and maybe—probably—had left me for her, I had been stuck on the kiss I had shared with Jack. Joshua hadn’t occupied my mind for more than a few fleeting minutes.
It had been all Jack.
Sunday morning when I woke up, thinking maybe we could have breakfast together since I wasn’t opening the coffee shop, I’d looked for him. I even went as far as knocking on his door and going into his room, only to find him already gone. If someone asked, I wouldn’t admit it, but I had waited around until two PM, and when he hadn’t shown up, I’d decided to go to the coffee shop and spend time in the kitchen baking instead. I’d picked up my phone countless times, thinking maybe sending a quick text asking what he was doing wouldn’t be such a bad idea, but I hadn’t ever gone through with it.
He hadn’t contacted me either.
Heading back to the apartment at eight PM, nothing had changed. I didn’t think I had anything specific to say to him, but I wanted very much to see him and be around him. When I had gone to bed at eleven, he still hadn’t been around.
Massaging my temples, I sighed and blindly reached for my phone on the nightstand. I didn’t know why my heartbeat quickened when I took a quick look at the screen and scrolled through a few messages from Sally; there was nothing from Jack there, no calls, no texts—and why would he call or text me anyway? We weren’t that. We weren’t ever going to be that, no matter what dreams I had.
Thoroughly annoyed with myself for being so affected just by a simple dream, I got up to my feet and looked for something I could wear over my panties. I left the simple short-sleeved thin grey t-shirt on and quietly left my room. The only positive thing for the night was that my nose wasn’t running at that particular moment, and it looked like I was over whatever allergic reaction or flu had crossed my path.
When I made it to the staircase, I paused and glanced toward Jack’s room but didn’t dare go anywhere near it. Slowly going down the stairs, I decided a cold glass of water would be just the thing to wake me up from stupid and pointless dreams, but then I saw the light coming from under the door of Jack’s study and turned that way instead.