“You’re welcome. I heard she loved it.”
“She did.”
“I’m glad. Jillian is a great girl.”
“She is, but I…” I sighed, running a hand over my beard. “I fucked up.”
Neither of them said anything while our beers were set in front of us. Once the bartender was gone, Sebastian asked, “How so?”
I gave them the bare bones of what happened, and it was amazing to me how much clarity came from telling someone else the story. As the words poured out, it was almost like being able to take a step back, see things from her point of view, or even an outsider’s, understand my fear and defensiveness better, and put them in perspective.
“Wow,” Sebastian said, taking a drink of beer. “So she said no to giving you more time? That doesn’t sound like her.”
“I think it was the way I asked. She wasn’t convinced I would use the time to work through anything. But I have—I just don’t know what to do now.” I closed my eyes and exhaled. “I need advice.”
Sebastian recoiled. “Oh Jesus. I’m the last person who should give relationship advice.”
“Why not? You and Skylar have a great relationship.”
“Yeah, but that’s because of her. I tried to sabotage it a thousand times before I realized how lucky I was that she understood me and accepted me, and that I had to stop trying to drive her away.”
“Why did you try to drive her away?” I asked.
“Fear. Plain and simple.”
“I did the same,” put in Miles. “I was such a dick to Natalie after I realized I had feelings for her. Just because that was easier than facing them and upending my life.”
I nodded, understanding. “That’s it exactly. And I’m so fucking tired of being afraid. I love her. I want her in my life. In Scotty’s life.”
“Then go get her,” said Sebastian.
“I don’t even know if she’ll have me. I might have missed my chance. She said she was done waiting.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, Skylar says that shit to me to sometimes too. It’s because they know we need to hear it in order to quit fucking around and get our shit together.”
“Agreed,” said Miles. “I actually know for a fact that Jillian’s fucking crazy about you. I shouldn’t say this, but she came over to the house last Saturday night and she was a mess.”
“Fuck.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “That’s the day we fought. She called me out on my bullshit and I was a stubborn asshole.”
“Yeah, she admitted she was harsh. She was all kinds of fucked up about it. But she loves you. And she wants you, trust me. Not on any terms though—she was clear about that. She wants the real thing.”
“She deserves it.” I grimaced. “So what do I do now?”
“Something that will show her you know you were wrong, you’re ready to give her what she wants, and you understand what’s important to her,” said Miles. “Then you have to figure out a fucking amazing way to do it. Impress her.”
“How do you know all this?” I shook my head. “You’re like an expert.”
He grinned and tipped back his glass again. “‘Cause I had to do it too.”
I thought about it for a minute as I took a few sips of my beer. “Her job is important to her, but I think family is the closest thing to her heart.”
“I think you’re right,” said Sebastian. “The Nixons are a tight bunch. But they’re great, too. You’ll love them.”
My insides warmed as I thought about the Nixons letting me and Scotty into their clan. It would be good for both of us. Suddenly it made even more sense, her feelings about being on the inside of my life. When you come from a close family like hers, you want that for yourself. “Any ideas for a fucking amazing way to impress her?”
Sebastian went silent.
“Actually,” Miles said, his eyes lighting up, “I do have an idea. I happen to know that the entire Nixon family will be at a party at Abelard Vineyards on Christmas Eve. And no one knows this, but something pretty fucking cool is going to take place. I think it would mean a lot to her that you were there that night.”
“Really?” Sebastian looked at Miles.
“Really.” Miles gave him a warning look. “But you can’t say a word. Natalie would fucking kill me.”
“I won’t.”
“Christmas Eve, huh?” An idea was taking shape in my brain. “I think I could be there.”
“Good.” Miles raised his beer. “Cheers, brothers.”
Christmas Eve was five days away, but there was no way I could wait that long before contacting Jillian. One, I missed her too fucking much, and patience where she’s concerned had never been a virtue of mine; and two, I didn’t want her to suffer anymore. If she was half as miserable as I was, she was barely getting through a day.
I called her the day after I met Sebastian and Miles at the bar. It went to voicemail.
“Hey, beautiful. I miss you so much, and I hope you’re doing OK. I know I have not behaved well and don’t deserve another chance, but if you can meet me this week for coffee or a drink or dinner—anything—I’d love to see you. Let me know.”
I pressed end, feeling like I hadn’t said the right things to convince her, but what could I do? I wasn’t a poet, I had no singing voice, no magic words—I was just an imperfect guy hoping the perfect girl would love him.