Page 37 of Waiting for Acceptance (Nashville Nights #5)

FITZ

This woman is going to be the death of me.

I never imagined I would die so happy.

Our Uber pulls up to our entrance and I busy myself with grabbing our bags from the back. When I pull out her rather large suitcase I realize we were only back in New York for a single day.

“I’m sorry our trip got cut short.”

“Don’t be sorry. I had a good time. One day I’ll actually see New York while I’m here, but you can’t control your own schedule. Or so it seems.”

“How many times have you been to New York?”

“Only twice.” She glances up at me and I see the mischief behind those pretty blue eyes. “And wouldn’t you know it, some part of The Fitzgerald Firm took up every single second of my being there.” She nudges my arm with her elbow. “I’m teasing. Well… I mean, it’s true, but I’m not mad about it.”

“How about this? I’ll show you New York properly the next time we’re both here.”

“Sounds like a plan.” She smiles softly at me but is unusually quiet the rest of the time.

We drop our bags off and make it through security twenty minutes before our plane starts boarding.

I don’t plan on ever letting her fly anything but first class, mainly because I like the fact that it’s just the two of us in the row and I get her attention all to myself.

However, this flight I got none of her attention because she fell asleep approximately five minutes after we were in the air.

“Hey, Trouble, we’re landing.” I kiss her nose and she scrunches it in the cutest way before rubbing it with her fist that’s hidden beneath her sweatshirt sleeve.

“Did you just kiss my nose?” The sleepy frown on her face makes me smile.

“Would you rather I yell your name on a plane full of people?”

“Hmm,” she hums, giving me a suggestive look. Making me curious what exactly was going through her dirty little mind. I get déjà vu walking into the airport with her, only this time she insists we part ways so she can grab us coffee while I go to the restroom.

“I’ll meet you there in a sec. Here.”

“What’s this?” She holds the cash up with a frown.

“You know the drill, coffee’s on me, Trouble.” I wink at her and she gives me a sassy glare.

“Wow, and I didn’t even have to put out for it this time,” she teases.

I watch her walk through the airport like she owns the damn place.

She seems so different. So light, confident, dare I say…

happy? I smile when I see her hold her phone up to take a photo of the coffee shop before heading to the bathroom.

I check my texts when I stop outside the restrooms, seeing the message that came in from my mother last night, having that same sense of irritation roll over me when I read it again.

Mother

Dad’s party is rescheduled for next Thursday at 5pm.

Attire is still black tie. The venue scheduled maintenance on the same day we had the place rented out.

They gave us a 50% refund, the imbeciles.

Anyways. Don’t forget to get your father a nice gift and why don’t you come to this one alone. We have things we need to discuss.

Two more months. Only two more months of having to go along with my parent’s bullshit before I’m the one in control of my own future.

I pocket my phone and head to the coffee shop, stopping short when I’m gifted the gut punch of seeing Lauren hugging another man, smiling at him like he lit every star in the sky.

I’m so not in the mood for this today.

“How long are you in town for?” I hear her ask before I clear my throat and get their attention. Her head whips to the side and her smile falls when she sees me.

Well, that fucking hurts.

“Fitz. Hey.” Her cheeks turn red when she looks back at the guy then over at me again.

“Hey yourself.” I force myself to muster up a smile. “Who’s your friend?”

“Hugh Burgess.” The charming bastard introduces himself, holding his hand out to me.

“Fitz.” I nod, giving him a firm handshake.

“Fitz, huh? How very poetic.” He laughs. He has this carefree and confident air about him that makes me kind of hate him. “Okay, Love. I have to be going, but call me when you’re free this week.” My eyes pop and I look at Lauren who is smiling and nodding .

“I will.”

You will the fuck not.

“So great seeing you.” He puts his hand on her shoulder and squeezes before offering me his hand again. Would it be completely irrational to…I don’t know? Break it. “Lovely meeting you as well, Fitz.”

He’s barely out of earshot and I’m practically fuming. “So…who’s the French motherfucker calling you Love ?” Her eyes pop and she begins looking around before pulling me off to the side, careful not to spill her drink.

“Lower your voice, would you?” She glances around again, ensuring we have privacy in the little alcove we’re standing in on the other side of the coffee shop. “He’s a friend of mine, and he’s from Australia, not France.” She gives me a puzzled look.

“A friend?” I ask skeptically.

“Yes.”

“A friend you’ve slept with before?” I watch her cheeks redden again as her eyes widen and a shred of her confidence disappears.

“Why exactly does that matter?”

“Well, if you tell me he’s a friend of yours like Luther is a friend of yours, then I can accept the little nickname and the possible plan-making. If he’s a friend of yours like I’m a friend of yours, then it matters.”

Her chest is rising and falling more rapidly when she answers.

“And if he’s not a friend of mine like Luther is?

” My jaw tightens, waiting for a clearer answer, and she crosses her arms over her chest. “We have…intimate knowledge of each other.” A humorless laugh leaves me as the jealousy in me grows in leaps and bounds.

“You’re not meeting with him this week.”

“Fitz, he’s just a friend. I haven’t seen him in that way in a really long time.”

“Then a little bit longer won’t kill you, will it?”

I’m hyper-aware of how insane I sound right now, but that doesn’t change the fact that I kind of want to go find him and punch him in the forehead.

“What the hell is your problem?”

“My problem is that now I can’t stop picturing you with him, Lauren, and I don’t fucking like it.

” She stares up at me, those big blue eyes full of surprise.

I’m not sure how. I don’t bother hiding the way she affects me.

If she doesn’t realize all the ways that I want her, then she simply doesn’t want to.

“Fitz—”

“Let’s get out of here. I’d rather not have an audience while you finish yelling at me.

” I grab the bags from her hand and walk a few paces, putting my coffee in the same hand as the bags so I can stop and reach behind me.

Praying that her hand will fill mine. That she’ll give me some shred of hope that I didn’t just ruin this because I was fucking jealous and pissed off at my parents.

My chest is tight with anticipation until I feel her cold hand slide into mine and I feel the tension in my shoulders start to ease.

I will not fuck up like this again, but it’s time she knows exactly where I stand when it comes to her being mine.