I look back to the road, turning off on the exit that leads to the winery.
The silence is too thick.
“I got an email from Rachel,” I tell her.
“What?” she asks, her voice sounding raw. At least that got her attention.
“Yeah, this morning. Strange timing considering.”
“Considering what?”
“Heath and I were talking about her last night.”
“Oh,” she says, her voice becoming small. She looks away out the window again. “What did she want?”
“She wants me back.”
She stiffens, her fingers paused before they go back to playing with the pleats in her dress. “I see.”
“She said that she made a huge mistake, that she regrets cheating on me. Her own heart was broken, karma, of course, and she knows the pain I went through. Apparently I was the only loyal, dependable thing in her life, if you can believe that.” I let out a caustic laugh. “She said she still loves me with all her heart, that she never stopped loving me and wants a second chance.”
My eyes keep darting between the road and Amanda. She’s gripping her dress, her knuckles going white, but she won’t face me.
“Are you going to take her back?” she asks quietly. “Try long distance again?”
The fact that this so obviously bothers her is like a tonic to my soul. It means she has to care.
“Do you think I’m going to take her back? Do you think I’m still in love with her?”
She shrugs with one shoulder.
“Amanda,” I say, grappling for the words. When I don’t say anything else, she slowly turns her head to look at me. Fearful. Hopeful.
“I told her it was too late,” I admit. “I told her I didn’t love her anymore, because I don’t. That ship sailed a long time ago. And I told her I wished her the best of luck but the truth was, I’ve met someone else.” I give her a faint smile, aware of everything riding on this. “You.”
“Me?” she repeats, her voice barely audible.
“I didn’t mean it as a work partner. I didn’t mean it as someone I’m casually sleeping with. I meant in a completely jumping the gun, getting ahead of myself, answering for you when I shouldn’t, I want you to be my girlfriend kind of way. She doesn’t have my affection, my future or my heart. You do, Amanda. You do.”
There. I’ve laid it all out on the table.
No regrets.
Except she’s still not saying anything, she’s just staring at me incredulously
And I’m pretty sure one of Fluffy’s crickets is loose in the car and chirping on cue.
Finally she says, “That is the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard you say. Honestly, I’m shocked.”
I sigh. “You know what? It’s true. You don’t have a romantic bone in your body.” I raise my finger. “And don’t make a joke about my own romantic bone in my pants because I walked right into that one.”
We lapse into an uneasy silence.
“So,” I say, eying her. “You’re just going to let me tell you that shit and you’re not going to say anything?”
“What do you want me to say?”
“What do you want me to say?” I repeat, raising my voice, nearly taking the car off the road. “How about anything? How about, oh Blake, I want to be with you too, you have the biggest cock I’ve ever seen. Or no Blake, you’re a fucking wanker and I hope you get on the next plane to Yorkshire.”
She cocks her head at me, her brows knitting together. “I thought it’s been pretty obvious how I’ve felt.”
I feel like my fucking mind is exploding. “Obvious? I don’t even know what you’re going to say or how you feel, so, no, not obvious. What the hell is with you girls, you think every man is a fucking mind reader.” I give her a look. “It’s called communication.”
“Well you could have told me your revelation earlier.”
“I could have, if I had realized it.”
“Men,” she says, shaking her head, “you think with your dick so much you never once stop to check in on your brain.”
“Look, I think we both can agree it’s hard to think when you’re not only peddling smut but acting it out, like a full-time job. Writing has become the day shift, fucking has become the night shift.”
“Agreed.”
“So now what?”
“I guess I’m your girlfriend,” she says, the corner of her mouth turning up into a smile.
“Are you going to laugh? Are you taking the piss?”
“Kind of,” she admits and breaks into a warm grin. But that’s when I see it. It’s not humour, its happiness. I have to assume she can see the same thing on my face.
Finally we pull up to the winery, a slew of cars parked outside, the stone building done up with sparkly lights. I feel like we’ve arrived in so many ways than one.
I unbuckle my belt and twist in my seat to look at her, taking her hand in my hand.
Her hand that’s mine.
I stare at it for a moment, sliding my thumb over the faint hairs, her porcelain skin, her hand that has felt nothing but perfect when it’s held in mine.
I feel like there’s a sunrise in my chest, burning hot, while everything about the world is brighter and anew.
I swallow thickly. “I hope you realize that the last place I want to be is at this party. I want you in my bed and I want to pleasure you until dawn, hard, long, fast, it doesn’t matter but that’s all I want to do for a very long time. But because this matters to you, I’m going inside. We’re going to make the rounds, say hello, maybe have a drink and a dance and then this thing,” I bang the steering wheel with my free hand, “is turning into a pumpkin and I’m taking you away. Got it?”