Page 34 of Take Me (Cherry Blossom Lake #5)

“He’s doing great, huh?” Ignoring the drink that I set down in front of her, Annabelle folds her hands on the bar.

“Yeah. You get a chance to meet Calliope at the wedding?”

“I didn’t.” She looks at her hands and yep—that’s a big rock on the third finger of her left one.

She must sense me staring because she looks up and gives me a sheepish smile. “Neil proposed Sunday night.”

“Congratulations.” I wait for a pang of emotion, but nothing happens.

“Thanks.” She sounds as excited as someone accepting a pat on the back for a dental cleaning. “I, um... told him I’d think about it.”

“What’s to think about?” I can’t believe how chill I’m being about this. “I thought you said Neil was the one . That everything worked out like it was supposed to.”

“I did say that, yes.” She stares at her hands again. When she looks up, there are tears in her eyes. “I might have made a mistake.”

“Sorry to hear that.” I don’t think she’s talking about transplanting Doberman testicles onto a chihuahua. “Anything I can help fix?”

“I don’t think so.” She squeezes her eyes shut and sighs. “Actually, that’s not true.”

“Oh?”

Drawing a breath, she opens her eyes again. They glitter as she flattens her hands on the bar. “I took it for granted how easy things felt with you. We were always laughing together, having such a great time, doing silly things. It was just so—so?—”

“Fun?”

“Yes!” She smacks a palm on the bar, and I jump. “I thought that meant you weren’t the one. There’s supposed to be drama and passion and a romance so big it sweeps you off your feet.”

Well, now I feel misrepresented. “I won’t claim I’m real big on drama, but I planned a helluva lot of romantic, candlelight dinners. And technically, there’s that one time I carried you to bed like a caveman?—”

“Yes, that’s it exactly.” She laughs like I’ve said something funny, though I’m not sure I meant to. “Sex between us was amazing.”

“I mean?—”

“No, seriously, give yourself credit. You’re pretty damn great in the sack.”

It seems wrong to argue, so I don’t. I think about all the times Erika’s arched up beneath me, digging her nails into my shoulders. That’s not about me, but more about us . Funny how sex feels so different with someone I know the way Erika and I know each other.

I’m so wrapped up in my thoughts that I miss some of Annabelle’s words.

“—kept thinking you and I weren’t the right fit because I didn’t get goosebumps when I saw your name flash up on my phone.

When we hung out together, I spent so much time laughing.

I never stressed about wearing makeup all the time or whether my house smells like cat pee or if you might ditch me for some pretty girl flirting with you at the bar. ”

“Uh, thanks?” Not sure if any of that was a compliment. Her order pops up at the window behind me, so I pivot to grab the big plate of tots. I hand her the ketchup, since that’s how she likes them. “Why would you want to be stressed in a relationship?”

“Stressed might not be the right word.” She stuffs a tot in her mouth and looks grim. “All the movies I’ve seen, all the romance novels I’ve read, love requires work. There’s excitement and dazzle and a hero who’s willing to fight for his girl.”

“Never been much of a fighter.” I flex my fingers and form a fist. “Gotta save my wrist for calligraphy.”

Annabelle laughs, but it’s brittle. “See? That’s what I mean. You’re built like a linebacker, and you own your own business, so you’re completely secure in your manhood. You don’t give a damn what anyone thinks, and you’re able to laugh at yourself. Do you have any idea how rare that is?”

“Um—”

“Because I didn’t.” She picks up a tot but doesn’t eat it. Just sits there looking wistful. “Not until I lost you, Mason. Not until I spent all these weeks trying to force a round peg into a square hole.”

Now’s not the time for a pegging joke, and I spare her an inappropriate quip about holes. That leaves me with only the cold, naked truth.

“Let me get this straight.” I bend down to pick up a big rack of glasses, buying my brain a few seconds to process.

I set the rack on the bar, toweling them off before facing Annabelle.

“You wanted more drama and excitement than you were getting with me, so you kept your options open and insisted we date other people. Then you started seeing Neil the Navy hero, and everything felt exciting and new.”

She blushes again and looks at her hands. “That’s an unflattering assessment, but yes—I suppose that’s true.” Her sheepish gaze lifts to mine. “I’m sorry, Mason. I was foolish and short-sighted and confused about what I wanted.”

Six weeks ago, I would have killed to hear her say these words. Now?

I only feel sorry for her.

My ego pushes me to ask the blunt question. “Are you asking me to get back together? Because?—”

“No! God, no!” She presses her palms to her face, fitting the heels of her hands in her eye sockets. “I know you’re with Erika now, and I’m so, so, so happy for you guys. Truly!”

“Uh, thanks.”

Dropping her hands, she looks into my eyes. “Whatever you think of me, I hope you know I’d never come between two people in love.”

“Okay.” I’m not sure what she wants from me then. “You just wanted to vent?”

“Something like that.” She swirls a tot through a puddle of ketchup. “I felt like I had to get that off my chest. I needed someone to listen, you know?”

Okay by me, since I’m a pretty good listener.

Erika said so last night. We drove out to Puffin Peak, laughing like teenagers as we fumbled and fondled in the cab of my truck.

After we straightened our clothes, we sat there for hours, discussing a conflict she had with an auto shop customer.

She kissed me so sweetly at the end of our chat.

“Thanks, Mace,” she murmured. “I love that you don’t try to solve all my problems. You listen and make me feel heard .”

“I love hearing you.” In the back of my brain, I wondered how Erika would take it if I said what I really felt. If I repeated those words but left out the third one.

I love you.

Annabelle sighs, and I force my attention back to our chat. She’s eating her tots without much expression, just stuffing them into her mouth. Her ginger ale’s empty, so I pour her a refill and set it in front of her.

“You can vent to me anytime.” I mean that.

Despite how we started, I’ll always consider her a friend.

“It sucks to admit you screwed up. To sort out your feelings and realize what you wanted has been in front of you the whole time.” Erika’s face fills my mind again, but I order myself to stay focused.

“It takes a brave person to say what you just did.”

“I don’t want to be brave.” She gives me a watery smile. “I just want a time machine to go back and undo the mess I’ve made of things. Letting you go is the biggest regret of my life.”

Well fuck. This is awkward. What am I supposed to say to that?

“Where’s Neil?” I suddenly feel kinda bad for the guy. “He asked you to marry him, and you said—what?”

“I said I needed more time. That I wanted to be sure. He insisted I wear the ring for a while, just to try on the idea.” Her eyes lift to mine, and I feel my heart squeeze. “Now that I understand what love’s supposed to feel like, I don’t think I can settle.”

There’s a clang from the front of the brewery.

I squint through the light washing in from the window, spotting a lone silhouette.

Whoever she is must’ve been there a while, since I didn’t hear someone come in.

I stare at the figure tucked into my most hidden booth.

My eyes start to focus, and I notice her guilt-stricken expression.

Erika’s frozen in panic, her eyes filled with horror, her keys on the floor at her feet.

“Shit.” She stands up so fast she knocks over a chair.

Setting it upright, she picks up her keys and starts for the door.

“I didn’t want to interrupt, so I sat down to wait.

I left my Hydro Flask in your truck, but I can come back later?—”

“Erika, wait.” Dammit.

“No, no—it’s okay.” She fumbles her jacket, stuffing an arm through the hole. “Sounds like you guys have some stuff to discuss.”

“Oh my God.” Annabelle’s on her feet now, looking like someone ran over her cat. “Erika, I’m so sorry. I feel absolutely horrib?—”

“Don’t.” She backs toward the door, clenching her keys in a fist. “It’s not a big deal. I’ll see Mason at home and—” She falters, her gaze darting back to mine. “Or not. I—you—we’ll catch up later, okay?”

“Erika, don’t go.”

But she’s already gone, hair flying behind her as she sprints through the rain to her truck.

Goddammit.

My manager doesn’t clock in until four, so I’m stuck at the bar for ninety long minutes while Annabelle gushes apologies.

“I’m so sorry, Mason.” Tears stream down her cheeks as I type out my ten millionth text to Erika. “I shouldn’t have said all that. I’m a horrible friend and a terrible person.”

“It’s okay.” I should probably say she’s not awful. “We all say stupid shit when we’re hurt and confused.”

“Please tell her—” She squeezes her eyes shut, cursing. “Never mind. I’m sure she won’t want to hear from me. I just told her boyfriend that I love him?—”

“You did?” I look up, confused. I might’ve missed that part.

“Not in so many words.” She winces and stands up to gather her things. “I’m sorry. I’ll get out of your hair now.”

“Wait.” I need to make one thing clear. “I thought I loved you for a long time, Annabelle. You were my dream girl, you know?”

Her watery eyes fill with hope. “I?—”

“No, wait. I’m not done.” God, this is hard. “You were right when you said love should feel easy and fun. But you also aren’t wrong about romance and passion and excitement. It’s not an either/or thing, you know?”

“I—” She stares like she’s shocked, like this never occurred to her before.