Page 23 of To Her

Geri

T he bar shift started like it always did—the owner's son poured us all a round of shots to lighten the mood, and off we went, pouring drinks and handing out orders, picking up glasses and running them through the glass cleaner.

I had no rights to him and I hadn't ever thought of him in any manner other than friends, so why was I now jealous? Was it because he moved on? I was a sucker for punishment and only liked men who didn't like me.

It was then that Con's brother Cam sidled up to the bar as the room started to cheer "Happy Birthday" and toast to the birthday person.

"Thank you for letting my brother move on," he said. "I didn't think you had it in you to allow him the chance to be happy."

I frowned at him. "What do you mean now, Cam?"

"He actually likes Hilary and deserves someone who will actually love him back, you know."

I was mad, and I had enough of his meanness, and I blurted back, "I do love him, you know."

And I did love him. No one had been there for me like he had been. No one sat there and listened to me ramble on and on for hours about crap just for the fun of it, but he did. I appreciated my friendship with Con. I loved having him around. I craved his face and his laughter all the time.

Cam said to me, "No, you don't, because if you did, you would be at the restaurant right now making sure he knew that."

And he was right, you know. I would be, if I loved him.

I looked at the owner's son and said, "I need a break," and pulled my apron off, and I ran.

I ran in the snow to the restaurant. There was only one in town open at this hour, one that wasn't in my hotel or in Con's, and I ran in the front door and spotted him at dinner with Hilary.

She was leaning in toward him, smiling; his head was thrown back in laughter.

They looked good together. They looked happy. And they both deserved to be that way.

But my feet carried me forward on their own accord. It was then Con's eyes flicked to me as he said, "You OK?"

No, I wasn't OK, but I didn't say anything at all.

I just kept walking to him. He quickly stood from his seat as he opened his arms, and I stepped into them, my face buried into his front as I felt tears run down my face.

Tears that came without my permission. I never showed emotions.

I never showed anyone what was underneath, but here I was, crying in the restaurant while his date sat there confused.

He pulled me away and placed one hand on each of my cheeks and said, "Are you OK? What happened?"

I sniffled and looked him dead in those green eyes and said, "I was jealous."

He beamed at me and said, "There's no need to be," then kissed my forehead and said, "Go back to work, Geri. I'm sure your boss is about to kill you if you don't go back."

He was right, of course. I had run out of there like a cat with its tail on fire.

I nodded and turned and left the restaurant and headed back to work, wiping myself, trying to hide what I knew would be mascara runs down my face. As I came back up to the bar door, Cam stood there with his arms crossed and smirked at me as he said, "You break his heart, and I'll break your face."

Smug bastard. He knew exactly what he was doing.

I pushed past him and back into the bar, where the birthday celebration was in full swing. The owner's son—Mike—gave me a questioning look, but I just shook my head and tied my apron back on. I wasn't about to explain my emotional meltdown to my boss.

For the next hour, I moved on autopilot, pouring drinks, making small talk, collecting empties.

My mind was elsewhere, replaying those moments in the restaurant over and over.

The look on Con's face when he saw me. The warmth of his arms around me.

The way he'd said "There's no need to be jealous" with such certainty.

What did that mean? Was he just being kind? Or was there something more to it?

And what about Hilary? I'd left her sitting there, probably confused and hurt. I wasn't normally the type to interfere with someone else's date. That wasn't me. I didn't do dramatic scenes or emotional outbursts.

Except, apparently, I did now.

Around 10 PM, the bar door opened, and my heart skipped when I saw Con walk in. Alone. He scanned the room until his eyes found mine, and then he made his way to the bar, weaving through the crowd of birthday revellers.

"Hey," he said, sliding onto a stool.

"Hey," I replied, suddenly shy. "Um, can I get you something?"

"Just water for now," he said.

I filled a glass and placed it in front of him, very aware of Mike watching us from the other end of the bar.

"Where's Hilary?" I asked, trying to sound casual.

"I walked her to her room," Con said simply.

"Oh." I busied myself wiping down the already clean counter. "I'm sorry about earlier. I don't know what came over me."

"I think you do," Con said, his voice gentle but firm.

I looked up, meeting his eyes. There was something there—warmth, understanding, and something else I couldn't quite name.

"I meant what I said," I admitted quietly. "I was jealous. I didn't realize until I saw you with her that I... that I care about you. More than I've let myself admit."

Con's smile was slow and sweet. "I know."

"You know?"

"Geri, I've been waiting for you to figure it out for months."

I stared at him, processing his words. "But... you asked Hilary out."

He had the grace to look a bit sheepish. "I did. And she's great. But..."

"But what?"

"But she's not you."

The simple statement hit me with unexpected force. A warmth spread through my chest, a feeling so foreign and yet so welcome that I almost didn't recognize it as happiness.

"What about your date?" I asked.

"We had a nice dinner, and I explained that there was someone else I couldn't get out of my head. She was very understanding."

"I bet," I muttered, thinking of how nice Hilary was. It was hard to even dislike her properly.

Con laughed. "Are you still jealous?"

"Maybe a little," I admitted.

"Don't be," he said, reaching across the bar to take my hand. "There's only one person I want to be with, and she just ran through the snow in her work clothes to tell me she was jealous."

I felt my cheeks heat. "That was... not my finest moment."

"I disagree. I thought it was pretty spectacular."

Mike cleared his throat loudly from nearby, reminding me I was still on the clock. "I should get back to work," I said reluctantly.

"What time do you finish?" Con asked.

"Midnight."

"I'll wait."

"You don't have to?—"

"I want to," he interrupted. "We have a lot to talk about, don't you think?"

I nodded, a smile tugging at my lips. "Yeah, I guess we do."

Con moved to a table in the corner, nursing his water and occasionally catching my eye across the room. Each time our gazes met, I felt that same warm flutter in my chest. It was terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

The rest of my shift passed in a blur. I was hyperaware of Con's presence, of the conversation waiting for us, of the possibilities suddenly opening up before me.

For once, the prospect of vulnerability didn't fill me with dread.

Instead, I felt something like anticipation, like standing at the top of a ski run—nervous but eager for the rush that would follow.

At midnight, I hung up my apron and collected my tips. Con was waiting by the door, his jacket already on.

"Ready?" he asked.

I nodded, suddenly shy again. We stepped out into the cold night air, the snow crunching beneath our boots. Con reached for my hand, his fingers warm against mine despite the chill.

"So," he said as we walked slowly through the quiet streets, "you love me, huh?"

I groaned, burying my face in my free hand. "Cam told you that?"

"He might have mentioned it," Con admitted, his tone teasing. "Right after he threatened to break your face if you broke my heart."

"Your brother is..."

"A pain in the ass? Yeah, I know. But he means well."

We walked in silence for a moment, our breath forming clouds in the cold air.

"I do, you know," I said finally, my voice barely above a whisper. "Love you, I mean. I think I have for a while. I just thought it was friendly."

Con stopped walking, turning to face me. His eyes were serious now, searching mine. “Friendly, ha. Is that why you looked so scared tonight?”

I shrugged, looking down at our joined hands. "Yes. Because everyone I've ever loved has hurt me or left me or both. Because you're my friend, and I didn't want to lose that."

"You won't lose me," Con said, his voice firm. "And I won't hurt you. Not if I can help it."

"You can't promise that," I said, the old fear creeping back in.

"No, I can't," he agreed. "But I can promise to try. To be honest with you. To talk things through instead of running away. To be there for you, the way I have been, but more."

I looked up at him, at his earnest expression, at the way the moonlight caught in his hair and made his eyes shine. And I felt it again—that unfamiliar warmth, that lightness in my chest.

Happiness. That's what it was. Pure, simple happiness.

"I'd like that," I said softly.

Con smiled, and then he was leaning in, his lips finding mine in a kiss that was gentle at first, then deeper, more urgent. I melted into him, my arms winding around his neck, his hands at my waist pulling me closer.

When we finally broke apart, we were both breathing hard, our foreheads pressed together.

"I've been wanting to do that for a very long time," Con murmured.

"Me too," I admitted. "I just didn't know it."

He laughed, the sound warm and rich in the quiet night. "Better late than never."

We continued walking, hand in hand, talking about everything and nothing. About when he first realized he had feelings for me. About my confusion and denial. About Cam's not-so-subtle attempts to push us together.

"He's been insufferable," Con said, rolling his eyes. "Telling me I should just move on, then turning around and telling me to be patient. I think he was getting tired of watching me pine."

"Is that what you were doing? Pining?" I teased.

"Pathetically," Con confirmed with a grin. "Ask anyone."

We reached the staff entrance to the hotel, pausing outside the entrance. I wasn't ready for the night to end, for this bubble of happiness to burst.

"Do you want to come up?" I asked impulsively. "Lily's staying at Lakeview tonight."

Con's eyes darkened, but he shook his head. "Not tonight."

I tried not to let my disappointment show. "Oh. Okay."

"Hey," he said, tilting my chin up so I had to meet his gaze. "It's not that I don't want to. Believe me, I do. But I've waited this long for you. I can wait a little longer to do this right."

Relief and something like gratitude washed over me. He understood, without me having to explain, that I needed time. That this—us—was too important to rush.

"Tomorrow?" I suggested. "Dinner? A proper date this time?"

Con's smile was radiant. "I'd like that."

He kissed me again, slower this time, a promise of things to come. When we parted, I felt light-headed, giddy with a happiness I hadn't felt in years, maybe ever.

"Goodnight, Geri," he whispered against my lips.

"Goodnight, Con."

I watched him walk away, turning once to wave before disappearing around a corner. Then I headed inside, my steps lighter than they had been in months.