The Sure Thing (5 page)

She took a deep breath.  “I want to see you, too.  But even if we were going to break the rules
,
which I'm not advocating, by the way
, G
abe and I have a huge wedding Saturday, it's going to be a nightmare. 

“Sunday, then.”

“You'd fly here Sunday, just to turn around and go home on Monday?”

“Yes.”

And so he did.

****

It was nine o'clock in the morning when Nick knocked on Becca's door, and he grunted with surprise when she yanked it open and launched herself into his arms.  She buried her head between his jaw and shoulder and he inhaled the sweet scent of her skin.  He tightened his arms around her and they stayed in the hall of her apartment for a long time.  Finally he kicked the door closed with his heel.

“I missed you,” he whispered against the top of her head, and she lifted her face to him, her smile shy and unsure.  His lips met hers, again and again, letting each kiss say what he was still too scared to put into words
.
 
You are so beautiful to me.
 
I want to be with you always
.  
I'm falling in love with you.

“C'mon.”  Becca grasped Nick's hands in hers, steering him backward toward her bedroom.  “If we're going to break the rules, let's do it right.”

And boy, did they do it right.

Afterward, they lay in
each other’s
arms, limp with slick with sweat. 
He
let out a long sigh of contentment and rubbed his nose against her cheek.  Her skin was flushed, hot to the touch. 
As he
blew cool circles over her face
,
s
he reached up to stroke his curls, wrapping one loosely around her index finger.  They lay staring at each other, exchanging the odd peaceful kiss, for a long time.  Finally, he rolled on his back and stretched, scratching his stomach with lazy strokes.

“So, what are we going to do with all this luxurious time together?”

“When do you have to go?”  Her voice was small.  She kissed his shoulder.

“I've got a six-thirty flight tomorrow morning.  If there are no delays,
I can get to the office by ten
.”

“Yeah, all sleep-deprived and hopped-up on sex.”

“Oh, God, you promise?” 

She gave his bare chest a satisfying
whack
. They sat up in bed, facing each other with crossed legs, and planned a morning drive in the desert, then lunch and
drinks with Gabe and Logan,
then dinner and a show.  What they actually did was stay in bed until four then wander to the kitchen in their underwear.

“Becca...this is kind of awkward, but
…
who does your grocery shopping?” 
He
turned to her with
a
box of Twizzlers in his hand
.
  “This is just...I mean, you're a
chef,
right?
”

She gave him a haughty look.  “Yes, but I'm not one of those annoying foodie snobs.  There's nothing wrong with a little candy on occasion.”

“
I found this licorice in the vegetable crisper.  There are Cadbury eggs in your egg tray
.”

“I might have a problem.”

“Ya think?”
H
e grinned.  “Have you got anything halfway healthy to eat?”

“Hmm, check in the pantry, I think there's some peanut butter...”

“Well, that sounds okay.”

“...cups.”

“Wow.”

They managed to find some cheese and crackers, and a bottle of wine left over from the wedding the night before.  They ate, and teased, and laughed, but Nick noticed that as day grew into night, there was a desperate tinge to their chatter, and a lingering end to each touch, each kiss.  He had to leave tomorrow.  He didn't want to. 

“So, Becca...”  They were on the balcony of her apartment, on a huge blanket she'd pulled from the back of her closet.  He was lying on his back, arms tucked under his head, and her body was stretched out perpendicular from his, using his stomach as a pillow.  It was after midnight, and he had to leave for the airport in a few hours.  “What would you think about coming to LA next weekend?  My treat
. A
n early birthday present.”

“My birthday's not until July.  It's January
.
”

“I meant for me.”

“Oh, when's your birthday?”

“October.” 

She turned her head and grinned, but her expression was bittersweet.
“I've got a shower to cater on Saturday, and then Gabe and I have a booth at some ridiculous bridal show.  It's so cheesy, but we get tons of exposure.” 

Nick swallowed a sigh of disappointment. He didn't want to press her, but
damn it
, he had to leave in four hours, and something had to give.

“Becca, I know this long-distance thing is difficult, and we're on completely different schedules, but...”  He looked down at her face
and found
her expression was unreadable. 
What the hell
,
plow on through, Nick.
“I mean, I feel like we have something special here, and I hope you do, too, and I'd like for us to explore it, and see where it goes.  I mean, if you want to.  Explore it.”  Damn, that was lame.

“Nick--”

“I love you.”  Whoa.  Okay, he hadn't meant to say that, but her blank expression was freaking him out. 

“Nick, people don't fall in love in a week.”

“No, of course not, but they do in nine days.  They totally do in nine days, right?”  And then her sad smile told him that this was not going very well at all. 

“I think they fall in like...and fall in lust...”  She reached up and touched his cheek tentatively, as though she thought he might slap it away.  “But I also think that they have to be realistic.  I mean, if one person has spent years building a successful dental practice in LA, and has partners, and patients, and lots of responsibilities
…
”

“But
,
Becca
…
”

“
…
a-a-a-nd the other person has finally gotten her life together after years of chaos, and has a partner, and clients, and lots of responsibilities
…
”

“But we can figure all that out.”

“How?”  She sat up, arms crossed in front of her.

“Well...lots of people
need caterers
in LA...”

“And lots of people have crappy teeth in Vegas.”

“Yes, you're right.  Of course, you're right.”

“Are you prepared to chuck everything and move here?” 
She
looked almost angry now, daring him
to answer. 
God, he was such a dick.

“I don't know,
” he
said.  He felt silly now, and he dropped his head in shame and frustration.

“Look, Nick.  I feel this too, the pull between us.”  She
rose
up on her knees and scooted towards him.  “You have to know I do.”  She straddled his lap, and pulled his face up so he was looking into her eyes.  “But I've chucked it all for a guy before
,
moved for him, changed for him, made all kinds of disastrous decisions.  For him.  I just can't do it again
.
I'm not that girl anymore.”

“And I'm not that guy, Becca.”

“I know,” she sighed, her finger touching the button on his collar, scratching it absently.  “I know.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

They woke to the sound of Nick's beeping cell phone.  It was four-thirty in the morning, and they'd ended up sleeping on the balcony.  Becca snuggled in the crook of Nick's arm, wanting to throw the damn phone over the balcony rail, until he groaned and clicked it off. 

“I'll be getting up now,” Nick said, but he remained still.

“Now?”

“Yes, right now.  R-i-i-i-ght now.”

“C'mon.”  She pulled him up and in the apartment, and made a pot of coffee while he showered.    She resisted the urge to walk in and watch him, not in a sexual way, okay, maybe a
bit
in a sexual way
,
but
more
in a homey, girlfriend-y way
. W
atch him shower, and shave, and brush his teeth, and perform all the little rituals they never got to share.  But she stayed in the kitchen. 

She'd planned her speech in her head last night, as the breeze blew across the balcony, and Nick's chest rose and fell in a soothing rhythm under her cheek.  But when she heard the zipper of his suitcase closing shut, her mind began to spin.  It was so early
,
too early.  They both needed coffee
and
they were working on very little sleep.  When he came into the living room, looking very respectable and dentist-
like
in a shirt and tie, she began to panic.  Oh, there was no way she could do this.  Could she?=

“I made you some coffee.” 
She
held out a mug as he came to the breakfast bar.

“Thanks.”  His smile was stiff, a bit nervous.  They hadn't solved any issues last night, just talked round and round until they agreed not to talk anymore.  But Becca knew what had to be said.

“Listen, Nick...”  His eyes froze on hers, and she saw immediately that he was on to her, that he knew what she was going to tell him. 

And as she laid out her arguments
,
calmly, logically, like a lawyer
,
she stared at her thumbnails as they flicked at the wood-grain patterns on the kitchen island.  It wouldn't work between them.  Neither one of them was in a place where they could move.  Relationships were dependent on timing as much as love, and their timing was all screwed up.  Anyway, she would drive him crazy with her erratic schedule and junk-food addiction. Really, she was doing him a huge favor.

She knew she was hurting him, because he didn't even try to argue.  She looked into his eyes, searching for emotion, but they were blank.  When she finished her speech, they sat in silence. 
She
resisted the urge to touch him, to wipe the tiny speck of shaving cream off his earlobe
. S
he didn't feel she had the right to, not anymore.

Finally, he lifted himself from his seat.  He moved slowly, as if he weighed a thousand pounds.  “Maybe you're right, Becca.  Maybe...I don't know.  I don't want to complicate your life.”  He moved to the middle of the living room, looking lost.

“Nick.”  He met her gaze, his face a mask of sadness.  She walked over and gave him a tentative hug.  He went limp, his arms dangling by his sides. “Nick, I'm sorry.”  After a long moment, she
felt his arms
creep slowly around her, wrapping her in a deep, tender embrace.  She noticed the blinking headlights of his cab shining
through
her front window.  He kissed her temple and took his suitcase to the door.  And then, because her timing always sucked, her tears came in a sudden torrent.

“Goodbye, Becca.”  Right before he folded himself into the cab, he looked back toward
her front door, like he was waiting
for her to call to him and ask him to come back.  It took all her willpower to let him go, but she did.  She knew it was the best thing for both of them.

****

“Come
on
Becca, this fondant is melting.”

“I'm coming, just a sec.” 
She
decided she needed a third coat of mascara, since it was a night wedding and her eyes tended to look tired and squinty by the end of the day.  Yep, one more coat, and then she would finished getting dressed.  In mid lash-brush, the door to the bathroom crashed opened dramatically.  Gabe glared at her.

“Becca, holy shit, what are you doing?” 

“Getting ready.  Go on, get out, I'm not even dressed.”

“Becca, we are late.  Like, crazy-late.  I don't care how much you don't want to see Dr. Nick
,
if we fuck up this wedding, we'll be making tuna wraps for bar mitzvahs at the Jewish Community Center before you can say
shalom
.”

“Stop yelling at me!  I'll be ready in a minute.  I just need a minute.”

“No, wha=t you need is a
Xanax
, but I'm afraid you'd face
plant in the damn cake.  Now
come on
.”

Becca threw on her little black dress, which was her uni
form for virtually every job
she worked, and jumped in the Jeep.  They were silent all the way to the reception hall, although Gabe kept shooting her concerned, brotherly looks that drove her insane.  She closed her eyes and leaned back in her seat.  She'd had no contact with Nick over the last three weeks
and s
he missed him horribly.  The thought of seeing him filled her with equal parts joy and dread, and she knew she had to keep her cool.  She'd let him go, and she owed it to him to be consistent and strong, not all fluttery and weepy at the sight of him.