Alexa was glad she hadn’t tried to have the Talk with Drew before coming to the party. She would have made some humiliating speech about how she felt about him and how she wanted a relationship with him, and he would have looked at her with pity in his eyes.
She’d always known what the deal was. That was the worst part. She’d known from the beginning who and what he was—he’d told her so. What did she think, someone like her was going to change him?
She kept trying to snap out of it, to give herself a mental pep talk. But every time she caught a glimpse of Drew standing next to Kat, his hot blond “running buddy,” she needed more sangria to wash down the bitter taste of shame.
Thank God at least no one knew. She hadn’t told Drew how she felt, and she was almost certain she’d managed to keep her face relaxed and jokey in the kitchen with the other women. She wouldn’t be able to handle their sympathy on top of the sadness that she knew was hovering in the back of her eyes.
It would be so much easier if she could be mad at Drew. But Drew had done nothing wrong. He’d been perfectly honest with her the whole time. It was her own fault for making up stories in her head about what it meant that he looked at her this way or touched her that way or had that tone in his voice when he talked to her.
Twenty-four hours until her plane left LAX. She could keep pushing that sadness in its little box for twenty-four hours until she’d be able to let it out.
She kept unconsciously looking around the party for a friendly face. Someone familiar, who she could relax around, not be so on with, just be herself. Someone who she didn’t have to smile and fake it with. But the only person like that was Drew, and looking at him hurt now.
After another glass of sangria, she felt a hand on her shoulder and turned.
“Carlos!” Finally, someone she’d known more than an hour. “I was hoping you were going to be here. How’ve you been?” She hugged him, not sure if the tears that shot to her eyes during the hug were because she was glad to see him, or because of the sangria. Probably a little of both. At least she’d get to say good-bye to Carlos. He’d been so nice to her.
“Great.” He toasted her plastic cup with his bottle of beer, his arm slung around her shoulder. “I knew you’d be here, Drew’s found ways to mention you all week.”
She looked down at her cup. Sure he had.
Drew came over to join their group, but this time she saw him coming, so she could dodge his touch without being obvious about it. She couldn’t handle that warm, firm touch on her back or around her waist right now. She’d taken such comfort in it, thought it meant so much.
But it had turned out to mean nothing at all. Instead of soothing her, now it made her angry. Mostly at herself.
She left Drew and Carlos behind and walked with Lucy to get more of the white sangria. Intellectually, she knew that she should probably stop drinking so much, but following Lucy was a good way to escape. As was the sangria itself.
• • •
Was it his imagination that Alexa was avoiding him? Probably. It was probably his imagination. But the thing was, for the past hour, she’d walked around with Heather and Emma, and Robin and Lucy, and chatted with a whole group of guys he’d never met. Every time he walked up to her, she’d moved when he’d touched her and had some reason to walk away after a minute or so.
He left her alone for a while and talked to other people, but he was always aware of where she was and who she was talking to. He told himself it was just so he could rescue her from Mike if necessary. Even in his head he knew that wasn’t true.
Finally, he saw her standing alone over by the drinks table and walked toward her, determined to figure out what was wrong. Before he could get there, Carlos came up to her, threw an arm around her, and said something in her ear that made her laugh so hard he could hear it from across the backyard. When he reached the two of them, they were both still giggling.
“Hey guys, having fun over here?” He reached for Alexa’s hand, but she switched her drink from her left to right. She’d looked in his direction but turned back to Carlos, the smile still on her face but no longer in her eyes.
Carlos grinned at him, but was that guilt in his face? What was Carlos whispering to his girlfriend about, anyway?
“Yeah, we were just talking . . . about the party,” Carlos said, flashing his eyes back toward Alexa. They shared a grin that made Drew feel like a third wheel.
“You two are looking kind of cozy. What are you, planning your escape so you can be alone together?” Drew joked. Except somehow it didn’t really come out like a joke.
Alexa looked straight at him for what felt like the first time that afternoon.
“Was that some kind of accusation? Because it felt like it.”
Carlos’s arm dropped from around Alexa’s shoulders. Drew felt a flash of anger that it had been there in the first place, especially when she hadn’t wanted him to touch her all day.
“Looks like I struck a nerve.” Why did he even say that? He didn’t really believe something was going on with Carlos and Alexa . . . did he?
“I don’t know, Drew,” Alexa shot back. “You planning your escape from me so you can figure out which of the women here will be your new ‘friend’? I can go home now so you don’t have an inconvenient sandwich at this buffet.”
Okay, something was definitely wrong.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Drew said.
Alexa’s lips curved into what some people might think was a smile.
“Pretty much exactly what I said.” She took the last sip of her drink and put it down. “Wait, you probably don’t remember—in this instance, the sandwich and the buffet are a metaphor for—”
“I know what it’s a fucking metaphor for, Alexa. I remember. What’s your problem today?”
“Good luck with this,” Carlos muttered from behind him as he backed away.
“What’s my problem today?” Alexa wasn’t even pretending to smile anymore. “My problem is that I’m tired of meeting all of your perfectly nice friends who are checking my forehead for my Drew Nichols expiration date. It was cute at the wedding, but it’s not fun or funny for me anymore, especially since I have a strong feeling that my expiration date is July 5th.”
He grabbed her hand hard enough that she couldn’t pull away and marched her into Heather’s house and up the stairs. He closed the door once they got inside Heather’s bedroom.
“Okay, now can we please talk about this without an audience?” The walk up the stairs had calmed him down. “What’s going on here? I was just kidding about the Carlos thing. I shouldn’t have said that.”
She laughed. Her laugh didn’t sound like Alexa’s laugh.
“What would it matter to you anyway if I was fucking Carlos? Like you would care.”
Whoa, where had that come from?
“What the fuck, Alexa? You know that’s not true. Come on, what happened? What changed between now and this morning?” He took a step toward her and she backed away.
“Nothing you need to worry about, Drew. Go back outside, hang out with your friend Kat. I can occupy myself.”
His shoulders relaxed. She was jealous! He could fix this; it was going to be okay.
“Is that what this is about? Monroe, nothing is going on between me and Kat—we’re just friends.” Something suddenly occurred to him. “I should have told you—I used to date Robin . . . and Emma. Did they tell you that? Were they weird to you? Is that why you’re mad?”
Alexa threw up her hands.
“No, Drew, everyone here is great. The women are nice and collegial, all welcoming me to the club of people who have had their month or so of sleeping with the great Drew Nichols, with that slight pity in their eyes when they look at me because they know what’s coming. The men all look me up and down like they’re ready to jump me as soon as you’re done with me, because they assume there must be something good in there if I’m worthy of you. Same as it’s ever been since the wedding, honestly.”
He still didn’t understand what was wrong. Maybe he was never going to understand women.
“Why do you keep bringing up the wedding? I thought everything was fine at the wedding. Better than fine.”
She took a step toward him. Finally, she wasn’t backing away anymore.
“Everything was fine at the wedding because the wedding wasn’t real! I’d met you two days before, I didn’t know you, I didn’t know anything about you, and I didn’t care about you then.”
He smiled and reached for her.
“Does that mean you care about me now?”
She dodged his hand and stepped around him toward the bedroom door.
“Fuck you, Drew.”
Apparently, that had been the wrong thing to say.
“No, wait, Alexa. I didn’t . . . I don’t understand. Please don’t leave.” He needed to fix this. He didn’t want her to be mad. He didn’t want this to be over.
Her hand dropped from the doorknob, but her back was still to him. He had to say something to get her to turn around. Maybe honesty would work.
“What do you mean the wedding wasn’t real? It felt real to me.” It had. From the moment he’d first touched her, it had felt like she’d belonged there by his side, smiling at him, joking with him, confiding in him, listening to him, being silent with him. Everything about this had felt real from the beginning, even when he barely knew her.
Now that he really knew her, and she knew him, it felt more than real. It felt like his life finally made sense.
He’d tried to pretend to himself all week that he would end things with her after this weekend, but he’d known as soon as he saw her at the airport that that wasn’t true. Not only that he wouldn’t, but he couldn’t.
She turned around, and for a minute he felt like he’d said the right thing. That was, until he saw the look on her face.
“Here’s how I know the wedding wasn’t real, Drew. Because at the wedding, you called me your girlfriend. In real life, I’m nothing to you.”
He shook his head. She was so far from nothing.
“That’s not—”
“It is true! Since the wedding, I’ve been just Alexa, or sometimes ‘my friend Alexa,’ or occasionally dramatic pause Alexa. But never your girlfriend, because in real life, Drew Nichols doesn’t do girlfriends. Which is fine—that’s fine, at least you’re honest—but don’t try to pretend that I’m making this up right now.”
• • •
Oh, thank God, she could finally legitimately be mad at Drew. She’d felt guilty being mad at him earlier; it hadn’t been his fault that she had feelings for him, or that she’d wanted him to return those feelings so much she’d almost convinced herself that he did.
But it was his fault that he was now trying to act like he’d wanted her with him at the wedding for anything more than a shield. And it sure as hell was his fault he sounded so smug she’d admitted she cared about him.
He rubbed his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair. Even after all of this, she had to fight to not reach up and touch it.
“Alexa, can we talk about this, please?”
She shook her head. The patented Drew breakup talk was the last thing she wanted right now.
“No need for a conversation. I know the drill.”
He stepped closer to her. She was annoyed that even in the midst of this fight they were never going to come back from, she just wanted to step into his arms and have him tell her everything was going to be okay.
“Come on, can you calm down for a minute and let me say something?”
That solved that problem. Nothing pissed her off more than a man telling her to calm down.
“I get it, my feelings aren’t worth anything to you, but I can be as un-calm as I want about this.”
“No, no, that’s not what I meant. I just want to . . .” He paused and put his hand on her arm. “I just want to explain.”
At his touch, tears shot to her eyes. She shook his arm off and turned away from him.
“Don’t worry about it, Drew. You don’t need to explain. Your feelings come through loud and clear.” She opened the door and ran back downstairs before he could reach for her again.
Thank God no one was in the bathroom. She ducked in there for a few minutes to take a deep breath and swallow the tears that had threatened. She washed her hands, dabbed cold water under her eyes, and faked a smile at herself in the mirror like she hadn’t just had a sangria-fueled relationship-ending fight in the middle of a party.
When she walked out of the bathroom, she ran into Heather, coming out of the kitchen with more cupcakes.
“Awesome, you can help me carry these.” Heather handed her a tray of cupcakes. Thankful for something to do, Alexa carried them outside. She took a deep breath before she walked through the door, but a quick scan of the crowd showed her no evidence of either Drew or Carlos in the yard. She did see Lucy, though, and put two red velvet cupcakes on a plate for the two of them.
“You said this was your favorite, right?” Alexa held out the plate to Lucy, and soon they both had red tongues and lips smeared in cream cheese frosting. Robin joined them with a cupcake of her own and a pile of napkins. Alexa had just relaxed a little and wiped her mouth when the circle opened and she heard Drew’s voice.
“Alexa.” His voice was steady, like their fight had made no impact on him. “I got a call. I’ve got to be at the hospital in thirty minutes.” He touched his hand to her shoulder and dropped it almost as quickly. “Sorry to do this to you guys, but I have to take Alexa away from you: duty calls.”
She thought about telling him that she’d stay, that she could get a ride home later, and also that he could go fuck himself.
But her political training hadn’t completely deserted her; not even this much sangria would allow her to let all of these people know her business. So instead, she gave everyone in the group hugs good-bye amid false promises of getting drinks “the next time she was in town” and followed Drew to his car.
• • •
Drew had stayed in Heather’s bedroom for a while after Alexa had fled. He’d wanted to run after her, to tell her no, she’d gotten it all wrong, that wasn’t how he felt. But he’d already made a mess of this conversation, so he figured he should maybe wait and try again when they got home after the party and could really talk.
But then he got the call from the hospital and had to run outside and grab her in a hurry. He’d thought about asking Carlos to drive her home, but after basically accusing Carlos of hitting on her, he wasn’t in the best position to ask Carlos for a favor. Plus, he didn’t want Alexa to think he was pissed at her and had ditched her at the party.
However, from the look on her face and the way she refused to meet his eyes when he found her outside, he thought for a second that she’d tell him to go on without her. That would have pissed him off. That he could tell she’d considered it even pissed him off.
They drove without talking for a few minutes, the only noise in the car the pop music she’d been singing along to on the way there. She broke the silence before he could.
“Did you really get a call from the hospital, or was that just your excuse to leave?”
That’s when he lost his temper.
“What the fuck, Alexa? Really? You really think I would make up a call from the hospital just to get you out of there? Do you think I’m that much of a child?”
She didn’t respond, and when he glanced her way, she just shrugged. That made his temper flare even higher.
“Really? You have that low of an opinion of me, just because I didn’t introduce you to people as my girlfriend? Just because I don’t use the exact word that you want me to use to describe you, you decide I’m the kind of asshole who would lie to you and all of my friends like that? When you decided to push back our dinner reservations by an hour last night because you were on the phone with your buddy Teddy writing one fucking sentence together for forty-five minutes, did I call you a controlling bitch workaholic who doesn’t pay attention to anyone else’s feelings? No, I didn’t, but I sure as hell could have.”
He thought he saw her flinch out of the corner of his eye, but when he turned to look at her, her face was impassive.
“At least I finally know what you really think of me.”
He turned into his parking spot, his sudden anger gone as quickly as it had come.
“No, Alexa, I didn’t . . .” She was out of the car before he could say anything else. He followed her up to his apartment, unlocked the door, and pushed it open for her before following her inside.
“I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t mean it—that’s not how I feel,” he said as soon as he’d shut the door. Her back was still to him as she walked around the living room picking up her stuff.
“Alexa! Come on, talk to me.” She finally turned to him. He looked at the pile of her stuff in her hands. “Wait a minute, what are you doing?”
She neatly piled it all into the big purse she always used on the airplane.
“What does it look like I’m doing? Why are you still here? Don’t you have to go to the hospital?”
He shook his head in reaction to what she’d said. In reaction to everything.
“No! I mean, yes, I have to go to the hospital, but no, please don’t pack. Don’t leave now! You can’t leave now. I have to talk to you.”
She stood there, silently, staring somewhere around the base of his neck but not meeting his eyes. He closed the distance between them and held on to her shoulders. She finally looked up at him but still didn’t say anything.
“Promise me. Promise you won’t leave. If this . . . if this has meant anything to you at all, promise me you won’t leave while I’m at the hospital.”
She closed her eyes and dropped her head, but he didn’t let go of her. Finally, she whispered, “Okay. I promise.”
He pulled her into his arms. She leaned her head against his shoulder for a quick second before she stepped backward.
“Go. You’re going to be late.”
She was right. He looked back over his shoulder at her on his way out the door, but she had already turned to look out the window.
• • •
Alexa dropped into a chair and put her head in her hands as soon as he walked out the door. What a fucking nightmare the past few hours had been. She’d planned the whole way home in the car to pack and take a cab to the airport as soon as he left for the hospital, but now she couldn’t even do that.
She was usually the last person who would leave in the middle of a fight. She liked to finish any discussion, she liked closure, and she always wanted to know exactly where she stood.
But this time she couldn’t wait to get out of there. She already knew where she stood; she didn’t need him to say it out loud. She didn’t want to finish this fight, didn’t want him to tell her what she knew was coming, didn’t want to have to deal with the pain of listening to the gentle breakup speech he’d perfected on the dozen women who came before her.
What would be even worse was if he didn’t give her the breakup speech today. If instead he found some way to convince her to stay with him. That would just postpone the inevitable and make it hurt all the more when he finally decided to move on. And make her feel even more stupid when he did.
That’s why she had to get out of there. Fly back to Berkeley so she could hide inside of her apartment and eat ice cream and cry for an entire day before she had to face anyone.
But now she’d promised him she wouldn’t leave, and as much as she wanted to break that promise, she wouldn’t. And now she had to sit here and wait, with only her own thoughts for company.
She thought about calling Maddie, but she knew if she did she would break down on the phone, and the last thing she wanted was to have Drew walk in on her while she was sobbing her heart out over him.
Instead, she changed, finished packing, and tried and failed to concentrate on work. Finally, she got into Drew’s bed and pulled up Anne of Green Gables on her iPad. Anne was right to smash her slate over Gilbert’s head—fuck him for calling her Carrots.
• • •
Drew got home much later that night, after an easy but long surgery. Thank God it had been an easy one; his mind was half on Alexa the entire time. Part of him was pissed at her that she’d started a fight over what seemed like nothing, but the rest of him was terrified that she’d left and he’d never see her again.
One thing she’d said at the party had kept ringing in his ears: “In real life, I’m nothing to you.” Was that how she really felt? Was that how he’d made her feel? Because now he realized how far from the truth that was. She meant more to him than he could say. Than he knew how to say.
The whole way up the stairs to his apartment, he prayed that she’d kept her promise and was still there. He tiptoed into his bedroom, hoping she was there, not sure what to do if she was. He’d been rehearsing what to say the whole drive home, but now everything that he’d thought of seemed stupid and inadequate.
He stopped in the doorway of his bedroom and sighed in relief. All of his lights were on, and Alexa was asleep in that way that was so familiar to him now, curled up on her side in his bed, the covers pulled up to her chin, her iPad resting on her face.
He turned the lights off and undressed in the dark. He moved the iPad to the bedside table and crawled in next to her.
He’d always loved getting in bed with her. It was one of his favorite things about her, the way she would melt into his arms every time he put his arms around her. But this time, she stiffened at his touch. It broke his heart.
He tightened his arms around her and kissed her neck, her hair, the side of her face. After a few seconds, he felt her relax. He reached up and stroked her hair.
“Alexa, please. Please, can we talk?”
She turned in his arms and rested her head against his chest but didn’t say anything.
“I’m sorry about what I said earlier. I got frustrated, and I didn’t mean it. Please, forgive me, sweetheart?”
Her face was hidden in his chest, so at first, he only heard her irregular breathing and didn’t realize the cause. But when he reached down to stroke her face and tilt it up toward his, he felt the tears on her face.
“Oh no, Alexa. Oh, please no, don’t cry.” He kissed her forehead and pulled her closer to his chest, but she only cried harder.
“I can’t do this, Drew.” He could barely understand her through her sobs. “This is too . . . It hurts too much. We can’t do this anymore.”
“No!” He hoped that he’d heard her wrong, but he knew that wasn’t the case. “No, that’s not . . . Please don’t do this. Don’t do this to me. To us. Alexa, please. I want this more than anything. You make me so happy. We make me so happy.”
She shook her head and sobbed harder.
“Oh, Drew, you’re so . . . Please don’t make this even . . .”
He bent down to kiss her wet face, cutting her off before she could finish talking. She kissed him back hard, still hiccupping as her hands roamed his body. He caressed her breasts as he kissed her. He cut off the kiss just long enough to pull her tank top over her head and moved down her body. She dug her fingernails into his shoulders, and he hissed, but she didn’t stop. He didn’t want her to stop.
He moved farther down her body, knowing by her slightest twist and moan and gasp where he should linger. Her hands were tight in his hair, and he felt the tug on his scalp just before he heard her gasp and felt her contract around him. He lifted his head and looked down at her. Her eyes were closed, but the tears were once again running down her cheeks. He kissed them away.
• • •
She opened her eyes when she heard the crinkle of the condom wrapper opening. He was kneeling between her thighs, looking at her in that way he’d looked at her since the beginning, like he couldn’t wait to touch her, like he couldn’t wait for her to touch him. She couldn’t wait, either.
She ran her hands up and down his warm chest. He picked up her hands and kissed them. He pinned them above her head, holding on to her wrists with one hand.
He bent closer to her until his mouth was almost on hers, his body inches away, but he didn’t close the short distance. She moved to meet him, but he moved away, a faint smile dancing around his lips.
“You know what I want,” he said. “Tell me. Tell me what you want.”
She looked at him, all warm and golden and strong above her. She said what was in her heart.
“You. I want you.”
He pushed her legs wide open and slid inside of her. Their twin moans echoed around the room. Too quickly, her whole body tensed and she exploded, tears once again streaming from her eyes, words she knew she would be embarrassed about later coming from her mouth.
He quickened his pace and came, collapsing on top of her when the tremors throughout his body finally stopped.
“You have me,” he said in her ear, so low she wasn’t sure if she’d heard him right.