Love with Me (With Me in Seattle 11)
“I wonder if he forgot something,” I say to Nancy.
“Rrrrfff,” she replies.
“Or maybe he just missed you.”
She looks up at me with a happy grin, that long tongue hanging from her mouth.
“Yes, I’m sure that’s it.”
We walk in to the smell of food and the water in the kitchen running.
“What are you doing?” I ask as I hang Nancy’s leash by the door and walk into the kitchen.
“Your dishes,” he says with a smile. “And I brought dinner. Oh! And these.”
He hurries to the kitchen table and passes me a bouquet of flowers from the market.
“I didn’t see you buy these.”
“I went back for them,” he says as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. “I saw you sniffing them earlier.”
“They’re beautiful.” I bury my nose in a hydrangea and breathe it in. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He shuts off the water and wipes his hands on my towel. “I have burgers from Red Mill for dinner.”
“It’s not my birthday,” I remind him.
He cocks his head to the side. “No, but you’ve got to be hungry. And I appreciated today. It helped more than I expected it would to keep my mind off of work. But if you’re sick of me, I can take my burger home.”
“I’m not sick of you.” I roll my eyes and open the cupboard above the fridge, looking for a vase for the flowers. “I can never reach anything up here.”
“Let me.” He’s behind me, his front pressed to my back as he reaches over me to retrieve the vase. “Here.”
“Thanks.”
It’s a whisper. Every nerve ending hums, and I feel the loss when Jace steps away from me.
This is insane. Yes, I’ve been attracted to Jace for years, but it’s never been like this.
“I was just going to watch some Netflix tonight,” I inform him once I’ve got my voice under control. “You’re welcome to stay.”
“Burgers and TV? This is a treat.” He grabs the bags of food and follows me to the living room. “But is it going to be something mushy? Because you know how I feel about that.”
“I was going to start bingeing something new, but I hadn’t decided on what.”
We eat and comb through the menu on the TV and decide on Ozark. Our bellies are full, our feet up on the coffee table. Carl’s curled up in my lap, and Nancy is on the couch next to Jace, her head on his leg, snoring loudly.
It’s as normal and domestic as it gets. Comfortable.
Easy.
My phone rings.
“It’s Noel,” I inform Jace before hitting the green button. Jace pauses the TV. “Hey, you.”
“Did you go to Nordstrom without me?” she demands.
“How did you know that?”
“My assistant was there on her lunch break and saw you. I can’t believe you went without me.”
“I went with Jace. He wanted shoes.”
“You didn’t get anything?”
“Well, I did get new sunglasses.”
She sighs heavily in my ear, making me chuckle.
“This is not funny!”
“It’s totally funny. You sound like I slept with your boyfriend.”
“Pretty much the same thing.” I bust up laughing and glance at Jace, who is petting Nancy and smiling.
“I used your rewards card.” I cringe, hoping this at least soothes her, and I’m not disappointed.
“Score,” she says, happy again. “What are you doing?”
“Watching Netflix with Jace.”
She’s quiet for a moment, and I frown at the phone.
“Hello?”
“Have a fun night. Does Sunday work for dinner? We should invite Dad.”
“That works.”
“Okay, see you then.”
I hang up and toss my phone on the coffee table. Before I can start the show back up again, Jace says, “Everything okay?”
“Noel doesn’t love it when I shop without her. Probably because I never shop.”
“She’ll get over it.” He takes my hand in his and kisses my knuckles as I hit play on the remote.
I’m lying on him.
I open my eyes and frown. The TV is off, but there’s light coming in from the moon. Jace is on his back, lying down, and I’m on him.
My head is on his chest, and I can hear his heart. Our legs are tangled. And his arms are wrapped around my shoulders, holding on tightly.
I suspect Nancy is on her bed in the corner of the living room, given the snores coming from there.
We’ve slept like this before. In college, we’d fall asleep studying, and I’d wake up like this in the morning. It hasn’t happened in years.
And I’ve never had the undeniable urge to rip off his clothes and have wild, sweaty sex with him. I’ve never let myself fantasize about him because, aside from Noel, he’s my closest friend.
We’re squarely in the friend zone.
I can’t let anything happen to our relationship. And let’s face it, sex just muddies everything up.
“Stop moving and sleep.”
He shifts, drags his hand up and down my back, and kisses my forehead. He’s warm, but not uncomfortably so. And my God, he smells so damn good. It’s doing things to me.
“Sleep.”
“I have to be smooshing you,” I whisper. “I should move.”
But his arms tighten.
“You’re a little thing, Joy. You’re not smooshing me. Now shut the fuck up and go to sleep.”
I narrow my eyes. “You’re bossy.”
“Mm-hmm.”
I sigh and stay where I am for about fifteen seconds until I can’t stand it anymore.
“Seriously, I should—”
“That’s it.” He rolls sideways, pinning me between his big body and the back cushions of the couch behind me. “You’re off me. Better?”
“What if I’m not sleepy?”
He kisses my forehead again and starts to push his fingers through my hair, rubbing my scalp and brushing the loose strands. Damn him, he knows I can never resist when someone plays with my hair.
“Oh, that makes me sleepy.”
“I know,” he whispers.
“You really do have good hands.”
“It’s part of the job,” he says. “And all the better to play with your hair.”
“I have little hands.” I swallow hard. “I can’t believe I’m about to admit this, but sometimes I worry that my hands are too small for surgery.”
“Why?”
“Some of the animals I see are big. I’m strong, but I’m small, and I want the best for my patients.”
“You are the best for your patients,” he assures me. “You’re the best there is, Joy. You’re so fucking smart. And your heart is in it, and that’s the most important piece of all.”
“I know. It’s what makes you a good surgeon, too.”
“Is it?”
“Are you kidding me?”
His hand pauses in my hair.
“Jace, when your patient didn’t make it, and you showed up here? You were devastated. I’ve never seen you like that.”
“It’s the first time that it was a shock that the patient didn’t make it,” he admits. “In the past, when I lost someone, we knew it was a possibility. It still sucked, but I knew it could happen. This one was different.”
“And you cared. Do you know how many doctors would pay their respects to the family and then just get on with their day? A lot of them. People accuse surgeons of being heartless, and maybe sometimes they need to be. But you’re not.”
“It might be easier if I was.”
I’ve missed this. Confessing our deepest thoughts in the dark. We haven’t done this since college.
My hand glides up his side, over his shoulder, and I cup his cheek. He’s let his stubble grow, and it’s prickly against my palm.
“I’m proud of you,” I say.
“I’m scared,” he says. “I don’t know what to do with this much time off. I need to work, not because of the money but because it’s who I am, Joy.”