Page 5 of Soft Rebound (Mad City Moments #2)

Liz

A gust of warm wind hits me as we leave the bar, and I’m suddenly stone-cold sober. I realize I am about to go have sex in a hotel with a guy I’ve just met, and I feel sick to my stomach. I can’t take another step.

“You okay?” Joe asks.

I just shake my head.

“We don’t have to do anything, you know. We can go back inside if you want.”

I shake my head again. I know I seem like a child, but I am suddenly overwhelmed by everything, and I wish I could be back in my parents’ home and have Mom and Dad make everything better.

I want that, and I resent myself for wanting it.

That weakness, that need to be taken care of, to be made comfortable by someone else, that’s why I had been stuck for so long, why I almost resigned myself to a life that I’ve long known I didn’t want.

I am weak and a coward and I need to learn to go through with things I decided I would go through with.

I straighten my back and square my shoulders. “I’m okay. Let’s do this.”

But Joe grabs me by the upper arms and stops me. “You don’t really seem to want to.”

“Doesn’t matter now. I said I would do it.”

“Oh, hell, no, you don’t. I am not going to sleep with someone who has to talk themselves into sleeping with me.”

My resolve instantly dissipates. “It’s not that. I... I really liked the kiss. I like how you look and ... I felt connected to you.”

His face softens. “Me, too.”

“But this all feels like a bit much.”

“I get that.” He strokes my arms in a slow, soothing manner. “Do you want to go home?”

I shake my head again. “I do, but I don’t. Like, I want to keep spending time with you, but the whole hotel thing, I don’t think it’s for me. I was talking a big game and now I’m pulling out. I’m sorry...”

Joe sighs. “Look, I wasn’t crazy about the hotel anyway.

It feels very impersonal.” He rubs the top of his bald head and I smile.

If he had any hair, I bet he’d be running his fingers through it.

I raise my hand and rub his head, too, feeling the bones beneath the smooth skin, and then I gently move to touch his cheek, touch his beard.

His brown eyes are very warm and he wears a small smile when he grabs my wrist, removes my hand from his face, and kisses the middle of my palm.

My body relaxes as all the tension seems to seep away through my palm. Joe’s beard lightly scratches as he moves his lips over my skin, kissing the ball of my thumb, the fleshy base of the fingers, each finger, the pad of my thumb.

Then he says, “I have a new suggestion. And again, we’re not going to do anything you don’t want to do. I say we stop at a gas station and grab some snacks and some drinks, and then we go to my place and watch some TV. We can actually finish watching the game, if you want. No pressure, I promise.”

And just like that, I am back in the moment, and the wave of panic has passed.

“I think that sounds amazing, actually,” I say.

“But I might have to take your picture and maybe your license plate to text to my cousin, just in case you turn out not to be the lovely lumberjack type I just met and are instead another among this state’s infamous crop of serial killers. ”

“Lumberjack? So I’ve been demoted from god?”

I throw my head back with laughter. “That’s what you object to? Not the serial killer thing?”

“Well, this state is known for its serial killers, and I am unusually charismatic. You are right to be concerned.”

I smack him on the shoulder. “Not helping!”

He chuckles and grabs my hand. “Let’s get you back to your car. Follow me to the gas station, then back to my place.”

****

W e’re on Joe’s couch and the game was technically on until it finished, but we were both completely ignoring it and right now it’s some sitcom rerun with the volume way down.

We loaded up on junk food at the gas station—several kinds of chips, beef sticks (obviously), soda, and beer.

Joe’s got a nice, comfortable one-bedroom place with some expensive, good-quality furniture, but also several pieces, like this sofa, that look like they came from a garage sale .

.. twenty years ago. The sofa is covered in well-worn leather and seems to have been patched in a few places, and I’ve never sat on anything more comfortable.

Joe’s had a couple of beers and I’ve switched to soda. I’m not a big drinker anyway and it makes me feel better to have my wits about. I am a little jittery. Maybe it’s the caffeine, but maybe it’s Joe.

“Do you miss them?” he asks. “Your family? From everything you’ve told me, it sounds like you’re really tight-knit.”

“We are. My brothers and I are close in age, and my parents have always put us first. It feels so selfish to want something just for myself, away from them, when they’ve given me so much.”

“I don’t think it’s selfish,” he says. “It’s normal to want to have your own life. I’m sure they understand it.”

“You don’t know my parents,” I say. “Family is everything to them. They are both from the same small town, and their families go back generations, all in the same place. My brothers have never had any dreams beyond Dad’s auto shop.

Everyone is so comfortable there. I was comfortable there.

It’s like a cocoon, honestly. There’s something intoxicating about being so close to everyone, if that makes sense.

Like everything will work out as long as we’re all together. ”

“Are your brothers married?”

“Nope. My oldest brother has an on-again off-again girlfriend, she’s been around a long time, but he doesn’t seem to be in a rush to get married. My other brother is a year older than me, and seems to always be single.”

“Maybe he’s gay,” Joe says.

My eyebrows shoot up in shock. “He’s not gay!”

Joe shrugs. “I mean, he could be. Or he could be ace.”

I wave him off. “He’s not. He’s just shy.”

“True, he could be shy. How old is he?”

“Twenty-eight.”

“Hmm.” Joe looks to the side and takes a sip of his drink.

“Hmm what? He’s not gay! I mean, not that there’s anything wrong with that. It’s just that, if he were gay, I’d know. I’d know .”

Joe puts his hands up. “Okay, okay. Obviously you’re his sister and I’ve never met him.

I’m just saying that maybe there’s more to his life than you know, you know?

” I harrumph, and Joe chuckles. “Just like how there’s more to your life than they seem to be aware of.

” He reaches out and pushes a strand of hair off my face.

“Do your brothers know that you want a different life than what they live?”

I cross my arms and sink into the sofa, sulking. “No.”

“Well, there you go.”

“Ugh. I hate it when you use logic to defeat me,” I say, and he laughs. “Look, I know. I loved growing up with brothers. We’re close, but, like, not that close, I guess. We’ve never talked about plans. We’ve always stuck to doing things side by side. We’ve all understood what was expected of us.”

“How was it when you went to college?”

“I didn’t have the typical experience. I stayed in St. Cloud and commuted. First got my two-year associates degree at a community college, which helped me to get an entry-level accounting job. Then I worked toward my bachelor’s degree part time while I worked.”

“That sounds pretty tough, Liz. And impressive.”

I shrug. “I like to be busy. And the classes were interesting for the most part. Also, I met Jake when I transferred to St. Cloud State.”

His forehead scrunches up. “Your ex-fiancé. Until three weeks ago.”

I nod.

He relaxes into the corner of the sofa. “Tell me a little more about what happened. Between you two.”

I take a couple of deep breaths. Joe’s pose makes me feel a little more relaxed, too.

“Jake came back from a work trip and said he’d been having second thoughts.

That he’s not sure we should be getting married.

Obviously, it was a shock. Then I asked how long he’d been feeling this way.

He said, ‘A while.’ I pressed him, and he said pretty much since we’d gotten engaged. Two years ago.”

Joe’s eyebrows shot up. “Shit.”

“Yeah. Shit is right,” I say. “But I felt this strange calm wash over me, like things were finally starting to make sense, you know? Like I was finally seeing things clearly. I got up, thanked him for being honest with me, and asked him if he could please leave now and come back in half an hour so I could collect my thoughts.”

Joe keeps looking at me with unbridled incredulity.

“I shoved my laptop and personal items into a couple of duffel bags, left my engagement ring and the keys to our apartment—his apartment, actually—on the table, got into my car and started driving. Several hours later, I was in Madison.”

A few moments pass before Joe speaks. “Damn, Liz.”

I shrug. “Yeah, well. So, here I am now. Stayed with my cousin for a few days, then it turned out a friend of hers needed someone to sublet her place, so it worked out well.”

Joe’s expression is a mix of curiosity and concern. “So what’s the plan?” he asks.

“Honestly, until today, I’ve just been hiding at my place. I’ve only gone out to get groceries, but otherwise I’ve been inside, looking at job ads. Technically, I’m still on vacation from my Minnesota job. I could still go back.”

He swallows hard. “Do you think you will?”

“I don’t know. I really don’t want to.” I reach over to the coffee table, take my soda can, and drink up. “You know what the weirdest thing has been?”

Joe shakes his head, eyes never leaving mine now.

“The weirdest thing is that I haven’t cried yet. Not once. And I haven’t actually missed Jake at all.”

Joe looks thoughtful, his eyes scanning my face. “That makes sense, I guess. Maybe you’re just feeling numb.”

“Sure, a little. But I’ve missed my parents. I’ve missed my brothers. So much, in fact, that I went to watch football at a bar by myself because I missed them so much. I needed to be surrounded by people, even if it wasn’t them.”