Keeping London (The Flawed Heart Series Book 2) (19 page)

Well, to answer question 30, if I had to live without one sense…I’d agree with you that it’d have to be smell. I couldn’t live without seeing, hearing, or touching you. And I really love tasting my food. Although not being able to taste would be a hell of a diet plan—not that I follow a diet plan now, but you know what I mean. So, it’d be smell. Though there would definitely be some scents that I would miss incredibly, number one being the smell of your cologne or body wash or whatever it is that makes you smell so delicious. I’d also miss the smell of spring and the flowers and the smell of food…particularly freshly baked bread or cookies. The smell of those is almost as good as the taste.

Nothing new is really going on here since my last email. I’m still exhausted from my New Year’s trip to LA with Georgia and Paige. I think I’ve told you already, but I really hope this is the last New Year’s that we’ll spend apart. I don’t want to ever start another New Year without you by my side. In fact, all the stuff that we’re missing as a couple—our birthdays, Christmas, Valentine’s…all the holidays—I hope we never have to celebrate those apart again.

Although I will say that, hands down, our Skype sex on Christmas was the best gift I’ve ever received. Oh! That just gave me an idea…

Question 31: What’s the best present you’ve ever gotten? I just told you mine. ;-)

I have to sign off and finish writing a few articles.

I love you, babe. I hope you’re safe and happy. Talk to you soon.

Love,

London

I’m relieved after reading London’s email. The tone of it is much more upbeat than it has been for the past few days. I’m so glad that I got to see her face on Skype yesterday. I think that’s all she needed, too. On the days following New Year’s, her emails weren’t the same. I don’t know how to explain it, but there was just something off about them. They were shorter than usual and lacking London’s flair. Even though her words were positive enough, they felt sad, if that makes any sense. This long-distance relationship is no joke. I don’t envy the guys who have had to leave girlfriends and wives for multiple tours.

I’ve just started typing my reply to London when Cooper walks in, freshly showered, and plops down on my bed.

“Seriously?” I twist in the chair to face him.

“Whatever. You’re the one who interrupted my beauty sleep.”

“So, what? Since we have some extra time now, you’ve come to annoy me?” I quirk up an eyebrow.

“Basically. Annoy you, talk to you? Same difference lately.” He shrugs, eyeing me with mock annoyance.

I give him the one-second finger before I turn back to the laptop and quickly finish my email to London.

To: London Wright

From: Loïc Berkeley

Subject: Question 32

The answer to your question is so simple…it’s you. You are the greatest gift in my life.

Question 32: If you could live anywhere in the world, where would you want to live? Before, I would have said Michigan. I love the four seasons and all the outside activities available to do in each season. But, now, I would say wherever you are because I’m a lovesick sap, and I miss you like crazy.

Miss you, baby.

I love you.

Love,

Loïc

I have an unanswered email from Sarah as well, but I decide to write her another time. I close the laptop and turn the chair so that it faces the bed.

“Sorry, man. I’ve just been so freaking edgy lately,” I say in response to his comment about him annoying me.

“I get it. No need to apologize.”

If anyone gets it, it’s Cooper. He’s put up with my shit more than anyone. He’s seen me much moodier. I mean, this is the guy who had a weeklong one-sided conversation with me when we first met in basic training.
Who talks to someone for an entire week, just to be ignored?
I know, if the roles were reversed, I would have moved on after he’d ignored my first question…let alone a week of questions.

“How do you do it?” I ask seriously.

“What?”

“Leave Maggie, stay sane…you know, all of it.”

“It is what it is, man. There’s no sense in driving yourself crazy over it, you know?”

I let out a halfhearted chuckle. “Easier said than done. How do you not let it drive you crazy?”

“You just have to focus on what you have control over. You can’t focus on all the stuff you wish you could do because you’ll go insane. So, for example…I wish I could see Maggie today—hug her, kiss her, make love to her—”

“I get the picture,” I scoff.

“But I can’t, right? So, I try not to think about that. Instead, I think about what I can do. I can email her. I can reread the emails she’s sent, look at pictures of her—you know, stuff like that. I also make a checklist in my mind of what I’m going to accomplish today. I’ve already checked off a kick-ass run. So, next on my agenda is trying something new for breakfast, learning something new at our brief today, stuff like that.”

“Trying something new at breakfast?” I almost can’t get the question out without laughing.

“Dude, it doesn’t have to be monumental. How is the breakfast thing different than counting our steak and lobster dinners?”

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m just being a dick.”

Cooper continues, “I mean, our to-do lists here are going to be limited. But you have to have things to look forward to, things to try, to do…anything to keep your mind busy. Sitting around and pining over what you wish you could do would make anyone feel insane.”

“How do you handle the fear?”

“Like, the fear of dying?” he questions.

“For starters, I guess.”

“I’m not afraid to die, Berk.”

I skeptically look at him.

“I’m not.” He chuckles. “Honest. I mean, do I
want
to die? Of course not. But I’ve always just thought that I’ll die when I’m meant to. If I were meant to die tomorrow, I would die tomorrow whether I was here or not. The manner in which I’d go would vary if I were back home, but the end result would be the same. There’s no sense in worrying about it.”

“But what about the people you’ll leave behind? I suppose that’s what I’m more worried about.”

“It would suck for them, no doubt. But they would heal. They would move on. No one is guaranteed tomorrow, Berkeley. You know that better than anyone. But what I think you haven’t grasped is that you have no control over it. It’s going to be the way it’s going to be—good or bad. You just have to make the best out of it. If I die, you’d better not spend a second being sad, questioning it, or playing the what-if game. You got it?”

“Same goes for if I die,” I respond.

“Oh, I wouldn’t fret one bit.” His face looks smug.

“You’re a dick.”

He laughs. “You know I love ya, man.”

“What about the fear of Maggie leaving you?”

“I don’t worry about it. It follows the same general principle. Maggie’s not going to leave me, and if she does, she would have anyway. Nothing I can do about it.”

“That’s kind of depressing.”

“No,” he disagrees. “It’s actually the opposite. It’s more freeing than anything. When you get that all the worrying isn’t going to change the end result, you can let it all go. When you realize that you have little control over the outcome of your life, you can stop spending so much energy trying to control it…and just live it.”

I’m quiet for a moment, pondering over what Cooper said. “You know my entire existence is focused on control, right?”

“I do, and I’m telling you to let that part go.”

“Easier said than done.”

“Maybe, but you can try. All change has to start somewhere.”

“You know, you kind of freak me out when you go all Oprah on me.”

“Dude, you know I can’t help it. I was raised in a house with four women. Chicks love to give advice. It kind of goes with the territory.”

“You’re still weird.”

“I never said I wasn’t.” Cooper chuckles.

“You ready to go get some chow?”

“Yes, I’m starving.”

“So, what new thing are you going to try today?” I question in an overly excited voice.

Cooper ignores my obvious stab and answers seriously, “I’m thinking blueberries. You know I never really get fruit with my breakfast. Maybe I should. Plus, I read that blueberries help your memory and shit. So, maybe it will stop me from getting Alzheimer’s later in life?”

I laugh as we walk to the mess hall. “You’re something else.”

“What about you?” he asks.

“What about me what?”

“What are you going to try?”

I squint, cynically eyeing him.

“Just play along,” he urges.

“I suppose I’ll get sausage today since I normally get bacon. How’s that?”

“Eh, it’s a start.” Cooper shakes his head, and I can’t help but laugh.

London

“I don’t want to change who I am. I mean, I love me, but awesomeness is infinite, so I can always become even more awesome.”

—London Wright

I’m stirring. I’m stirring. What does it say again?

I look over to the cookbook lying open on the granite counter. “
Simmer until sauce thickens
.”

Has it thickened? How thick are we talking here?

The sauce bubbles in the pan.

I’m quite impressed with myself. I’ve been trying to use my time, sans Loïc, for a little self-improvement. I don’t want to change who I am. I mean, I love me, but awesomeness is infinite, so I can always become even more awesome. So, that is my worthy goal—to become a better version of myself.

One of my projects is to become a better cook—or, let’s face it, a cook, period. Based on the looks of this sauce, I’m rocking it.

“Whatcha making?” Paige comes bounding into our kitchen in her new business suit. The soft gray pencil skirt makes her ass and legs look amazing.

“You look hot today,” I say. “I bet that Tom guy was all over you.”

Tom’s one of Paige’s coworkers, and he’s been trying to get her to go on a date with him for the last month.

“He did come into my office quite a bit today.” She sets her purse down at the end of the counter, opens the cupboard above it, and pulls out a wine glass. “Want a glass?” she asks.

“Sure.”

She grabs a bottle of wine from the refrigerator.

I ask, “Tom’s cute, right?”

“Yeah, very,” she says, pouring two generous glasses of wine.

She hands me a glass, and I take a sip before setting it down.

“So, why won’t you go out with him again?”

“You know what they say.
Don’t bite the hand that feeds you
.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” I argue.

“It makes total sense.”

“No, it doesn’t. That means, like, don’t say bad things about your boss, not don’t date a coworker.”

“Well, you know what they say.
The squeaky wheel gets the grease
.” She takes a big gulp of wine. “This is so good. What brand is it?”

“It’s that one we got from the wine tasting at that cute little winery in Tecumseh.”

“Oh, right. Well, we need to go back there.”

“Sure,” I agree. “But, anyway, that saying makes no sense either. So, stop talking in ill-guided proverbs and just tell me why you won’t give a hot, successful guy a chance.” I take a bite of a spaghetti noodle that I just scooped up from a pot of boiling water.
Seems done to me.

“Because, London, I really like this job. I don’t want to screw it up by dating a coworker, only to have things go south and work be awkward. You know?”

I pour the pot of noodles and steaming water into a strainer in the sink. “You’re not getting any younger, Paige. If a guy like Tom comes along and wants to take you out, you should let him.”

“OMG, you’re a weirdo. I’m twenty-three, not forty-three. I think I’ve got time.” Paige huffs. “Look at you, Mrs. Love Expert. Just because you’re in your first real relationship—”

“I’m bored! I miss Loïc! I need a project. Look at me. I’m learning how to cook, for God’s sake. I need help!” I gesture toward the stove, which is completely covered in red splatters.

Paige looks between me and the stove and starts laughing loudly. I can’t help but join in. I barely recognize myself at the moment. I hate cooking.

“Why are you cooking?” she asks once her laughter subsides.

“I’ve already written all my articles for the week. I’ve cleaned. I even worked out.”

“Wow,” Paige says in an exaggerated tone.

“Exactly, so I figured I’d start teaching myself how to cook. It’s kind of an important skill to have. Someday, I’ll have a family, and I should know how to feed them.” I shrug.

“We had all this stuff?” Paige gestures from the pots to the strainer in the sink.

I shake my head. “No, I had to go buy all of it.”

“You are bored.” She chuckles.

“I know.”

“Well, your birthday’s in less than two weeks. What do you want to do for it? The big two three.” She holds up two fingers on one hand and three on the other, smiling like a goofball.

“I guess we can just do the normal dinner and then a club. We should invite Maggie.”

“Sure, I’ll text her and the rest of the girls. You know Dana was telling me about that totally nude male strip club in Canada. She went there for a bachelorette party and said it was so fun. We could get a hotel and party over the border? Something different.”