Page 9 of One Drink

Chapter 5

Jake

Stephanie could beso stubborn sometimes, but when it came to her heart, she was damn near impossible.

And I had been stupid enough to think our friendship would be enough to convince her that we were worth it. I didn’t think I would have to prove to her that I would never be the kind of man her father wanted her to marry.

I let myself hope. I’d hoped she would remember how she felt when we were together Friday night. I’d hoped she would want to feel that way with me again. And I’d hoped she would see me and all I was willing to offer.

I’d miscalculated. She wasn’t ready for any of it. As much as it pained me, I understood.

But when we touched, she softened. She struggled to hold onto her resolve, and her desire for me broke through. One touch and her eyes and physical responses to me betrayed her. She verbally pushed me away, but her body begged me to touch her again and again. Walking away from her without pulling her close and claiming her lips damn near killed me.

But kissing her then would’ve been a mistake. She might’ve let me kiss her, she might’ve even kissed me back, but it would’ve triggered the wrong emotions. The emotions she fought to bury deep inside her. The ones her father was responsible for giving her that caused her to put distance between her and relationships.

Worst of all, she still judged me. Despite our friendship, she still lumped me into the same class as her father and all the men he tried to force her to marry. That hurt. That was my challenge to overcome, and it wasn’t going to be easy.

“Deep breath, Jake, deep breath.” I dropped my forehead against the window behind my desk. I needed to give her space. I wasn’t convinced space would change her mind, but it would show her I respected her. She fought for her beliefs and found a way to overcome ever single obstacle that hindered her path forward. Now I had to hope she would find a way to overcome the damage her father created that put this distance between us and that she would give us a chance in the end.

“You okay, boss?” My head jerked around at the sound of Jeremy’s voice. I should have expected him. He had a habit of coming by my office first thing on Mondays.

“Yeah, just tired.” I forced a smile. “What’s up?”

“I finished the layout for the new featured artist. Do you have time today to go over it?” His smile was wide. Jeremy was eager to please and learn. He was young and fresh out of college, but his talent and eye for design was sharper than most people with ten times his experience.

“Absolutely.” I checked the time. “I need to grab some coffee before the staff meeting. How about we sit down right after the meeting?”

“Thanks, boss.” He had a bounce in his step as he walked down the hall ready to tackle his next task with joy and enthusiasm. To be young and unjaded. I liked Jeremy, but I wished he wouldn’t call me boss. There was something about that title that never sat right with me. Technically, yes, I was his boss. But I preferred mentor. I never saw myself in a role like this, and my position here at the magazine was supposed to be temporary. I agreed to put my dreams on hold for a year, maybe two, max. But three years later, I was still here helping Stephanie turn this magazine into a success. Maybe it was time to start thinking about myself for a change.

Coffee first. I didn’t have the brain power to think about these things now. I intended on heading to the break room to grab my coffee, but found myself in front of the elevator instead. I checked my watch again—thirty minutes. Plenty of time to grab a coffee from the shop in the lobby instead and gets some fresh air. Fresh air would do me some good.

***

WITH COFFEE IN HAND, I opened the large glass door to step outside for fresh air when I heard Stephanie call out, loosening the grip this morning’s conversation had around my heart.

“Jake, wait.” My heart flipped when I turned and saw her running through the lobby. Her cheeks were flushed, and she was out of breath. One look at her plump, soft lips, and other parts of my body perked up. Her long brown hair hung past her shoulders and her tasteful, red dress—the very dress I imagined her in on Saturday—accentuated her quick, shallow breaths. It was the perfect complement to her dark hair, smooth tanned skin, and rich chestnut eyes. Red brought out the tiny orange flecks that added fire to her eyes that matched her independence. She was stunning.

“I’m sorry, Jake.” She came to a stop in front of me and placed her hand on my arm. Her innocent touch sent a rush of heat through my blood. “Can we talk for a minute?”

I nodded, unable to speak. Instead, I stepped to the side where there were a few empty tables near the coffee shop entrance. She looked at me like she was waiting for me to say something, but I had no words to offer.

“I’m sorry.” Her eyes darkened, dampening the orange flecks that brought them to life.

“You already said that.” My voice was cold, and I regretted not checking my tone before I spoke.

“Okay.” She swallowed and her jaw tensed. “I deserve that.”

I let out a deep sigh and dropped my head into my free hand. Rubbing my temples, I tried to push away the headache threatening to take root. “Stephanie. I get that this is hard for you. But you know me.”

“I know.” She stepped closer and pulled my hand away from my face. She squeezed it and offered me a gentle smile. “I was unfair to you. You’re one of my best friends. But I can’t enter into anything serious with you. I don’t have it in me to give you what you need. Can you understand that?”

There it was, the but I knew was coming. The it’s not you, it’s me rejection. That had to be the lamest excuse anyone has ever given as a rejection. Why can’t it be about honesty? Either you’re attracted, or you’re not. Either you’re interested, or you’re not. Either you’re terrified, or you’re not. Stephanie was definitely attracted to me. Her problem was she was terrified of being vulnerable to anyone, but especially to a man. Even a man she knew as well as me.

I stepped closer, desperate to feel the heat of her body next to mine. Our hands were still joined, and I felt her tremble.

A deep baritone voice called out, “Jake! What luck to run into you here.”

I cringed. I knew that voice well.