Page 118 of Business Casual
It would be nice to talk to someone about it. Maybe Stella can tell me what in the hell I’m supposed to do. I have no experience in lasting relationships. I have no experience in any relationships. I want this thing with Nova to work more than anything. Maybe Stella can offer some advice.
“Nova and I are…” I look for the right way to explain how all of this started. From a proposition on a dance floor to…pizza shared on a too-small couch in a too-small house. Me with my laptop and Nova with her sketch pad, her legs tucked underneath her at her kitchen table. A single beer passed back and forth in a chipped coffee mug. Nova in just her socks and one of my sweatshirts, the material down to her knees.
Laughing and talking and fucking and driving and kissing and sharing and stealing blankets in the dead of night.
A tattoo on my wrist and my heart in my throat.
The look on her face when she told me I was her favorite.
I’ve never been anyone’s favorite.
“I think I’m in love with her” is what comes out of my mouth. I rub my hand against the middle of my chest. “And I’m terrified I’m going to fuck it up.”
Stella drops her cupcake. It lands frosting first on top of a folder. “Holy shit.”
I nod. That has more or less been the thought doing figure eights through the back of my mind since Nova told me she wanted to take me home. All those weeks ago.
“Mm-hmm.”
“I mean. Holyshit,” Stella says again. She keeps blinking at me. I think she needs a manual reset. Maybe I should call Luka.
I slouch down in my chair. “Yep.”
“I thought you two were just messing around,” she says, voice faint. “You were flirting at the wedding and with the video of the roof, I thought—Luka and I thought the two of you were just having fun.”
“We were,” I say. “We are. Nova, she’s—” I’m having trouble finding the right words. “Being with her like this—it’s the most fun I’ve ever had.”
Stella smiles at me, eyes glassy. “Holy shit,” she says again, voice hushed.
“Are you going to cry?”
She drags her knuckles under her eye. “I don’t know. Probably.” She releases a noisy breath. “This is all very unexpected.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Does she know?”
I cross my legs at the ankle and grab another cupcake.
“No, she doesn’t.” I don’t plan on telling her either. Not before I leave. I want to see how everything settles first. It doesn’t feel right to say it right at the edge of everything changing. No, I’ll give her some time and then we’ll see.
“Does Beckett know?”
I scratch once above my eyebrow. “He doesn’t know anythingabout what we’ve been doing,” I answer quietly. I don’t exactly feel good about that part, but I don’t see an alternative. Beckett is notoriously protective of his sisters. At first, I didn’t tell him because it wasn’t serious, and now I’m not telling him because it is. I’m not sure what would break my heart more, Nova telling me she wants to end things between us, or Beckett telling me I’m not good enough for his sister. I guess I’m just trying to buy myself some more time. Across the board.
Stella’s face does something complicated. “You’ve been keeping it a secret this whole time?”
“Didn’t you get that impression from the roof video?”
“But if you love her—”
“I just figured that part out,” I cut Stella off. “I’ve never been in love before. I didn’t know.”
This terrible, incredible feeling. Why I can’t stop thinking about her, talking about her, looking for her whenever I’m in town. I want to tuck her in her blanket burritos, and I want to fuck her silly, and I want to hold her hand and tell her about tax forms. I want to open her window for her when she can’t manage it for herself. I want to sit next to her at her kitchen table and do absolutely nothing.
That has to be love, doesn’t it?
I really don’t know.
