Page 25 of Love After All


  Megan nodded. "Indeed it would. Hurting one of my friends like that. It's unforgivable. So what now?"

  "What do you mean, what now? We're over."

  "Are you sure? You love him, Chelsea. I don't think those feelings end overnight."

  "It hasn't been overnight. It's been a week."

  Megan cocked her head to the side. "A whole week. You're probably ready to marry someone else by now."

  "Okay, fine. I'm not over him by any stretch of the imagination. But I'm going to get over him. I have to."

  Her phone buzzed and she glanced down at it. It was a text message.

  From Bash. It was the first time she'd heard from him since that night she slammed his car door and walked away. Since that night he'd crushed her.

  I'd really like to see you. I want to talk.

  So few words. And yet her heart started to pump faster and her eyes welled with tears.

  Damn him.

  "It's from Bash, isn't it?" Megan asked.

  She looked up at Megan and nodded.

  "What does it say?"

  "That he wants to see me. To talk."

  "Okay. So?"

  She shrugged. "So what? He said enough already, didn't he?"

  "Maybe he's sorry about that night."

  "Tough."

  "Chelsea."

  "I don't care if he's sorry, Megan. I told him I loved him and he ripped my heart out. He doesn't get a second chance."

  She wouldn't allow him to hurt her again. She couldn't go through it twice.

  She didn't care what he had to say.

  She wasn't about to listen.

  Chapter 37

  Bash knew this wasn't going to be easy. Chelsea wasn't easy. And he'd made it even harder by slamming the door on their relationship, by throwing her "I love you" back in her face.

  He'd texted her multiple times. He'd called her even more. He'd even gone by her apartment, but she hadn't answered.

  The only thing left was to involve her friends, and they'd circled her like protective wagons against him--the bad guy.

  But he had no other choice. He needed to give it every effort, and he wasn't about to give up.

  He tried Emma, but she said she was swamped all the time and would talk to him next week--a blow-off if he ever heard one. Jane told him she was busy with the kids. Sam cut off his phone calls, saying she was doing flowers for a wedding so she couldn't give him the time.

  These women were damn experts at being evasive.

  He finally cornered Megan one afternoon just as she was putting the Closed sign out on the bakery.

  "I'm just closing, Bash. Sorry," she said, just about to shut the door in his face.

  "Five minutes, Megan. Please."

  She hesitated. Chewed on her lower lip and scanned up and down the street as if she were contemplating inviting the devil himself into her shop.

  "Five minutes. Hurry up and get inside before someone sees you."

  There was nothing worse than losing a woman, and then losing all her friends, who used to be your friends, too.

  This sucked.

  She pulled the shades, then stood there in the semidarkness with her arms folded. "Five minutes."

  This felt like a test he took one time at the front of history class. His mind suddenly went blank and he felt sweat start to pool at his back.

  But he also knew this was his last chance, so he had to make it work.

  "I love her, Megan. I panicked when she said it first. It was a stupid thing to do and I need to make it right. But in order to do that, I have to be able to see her."

  Megan didn't budge for a few seconds, then she sighed. "Let me talk to the others. We'll see what we can do."

  "Thanks."

  It took Megan a few days to get back to him. For a while, Bash thought she was going to ignore him, that she'd said whatever she could to get him out of her shop. But she finally called him and told him the plan.

  There was going to be a party Saturday night for Emma's birthday. Everyone was going to be at Emma and Luke's house for barbecue, drinks, and cake. Megan made sure to mention she made a cake for the event. He smiled at that part.

  If he wanted to talk to Chelsea, they all agreed that was the place to do it.

  He made sure to ask if it was okay with Emma if he showed up. Megan told him Emma said it was fine.

  Which meant he was going to have to face her in front of all of his friends. All of her friends.

  He could do this. He had to, because it was the only way he was going to be able to talk to her.

  He arranged for Hall to cover the bar Saturday night. Megan told him the party was going to start at seven, so he made sure to wait until about eight before he headed over. He wanted everyone to already be there, especially Chelsea.

  He pulled up to Luke and Emma's house. Seeing all the cars parked outside the house, he was certain he'd never been more nervous in his entire life.

  He saw Chelsea's car parked at the end of their driveway as he walked up and rang the doorbell.

  He had no idea what he was going to say, but he knew damn well that he wasn't going to let her run away from him. And he wasn't going to walk away this time.

  Whatever she had to say to him, he was going to stand and take it, because he deserved her anger.

  He just wanted her to actually speak to him.

  He wanted her back.

  Chelsea held her drink in her hand, trying her best to enjoy the festivities surrounding Emma's birthday party.

  She was surrounded by all of her friends, and the atmosphere was fun and chaotic. She was happy for something to do on a Saturday night. She didn't know what she would have done without her friends the past couple of weeks. It was bad enough that it was summer vacation from school, so her days were free. Now she wished she were teaching summer school, because the days were endless.

  The nights, however, were brutal. She hadn't been sleeping well, instead tossing and turning, her thoughts filled with Bash and everything they'd done together.

  She'd lain there night after night, replaying every moment in her head.

  How could she have gotten it so wrong? His sweetness, his humor, the way he'd touched her, looked at her, the things he'd said.

  Had it all been an act? For what purpose? So he could dump her as soon as she said, "I love you"? That made no sense. That wasn't Bash. He wasn't that kind of guy.

  Though right now, she had no idea if she knew anything about men. She'd made a list, and she'd dated men who fit the list. That hadn't worked out so well.

  Then she'd dated Bash, who hadn't met any of the criteria on her list.

  That hadn't worked out, either. But it had, hadn't it? They'd gotten along and the chemistry between them had been powerful. They laughed together and had fun together, and the feelings she had were real. She had felt they were reciprocated by Bash.

  She'd been so wrong.

  She'd been in love before, but never like this. She'd never fallen so hard and so fast. Or so deep.

  And she'd never been so hurt.

  Over the past couple of weeks she tried to convince herself that she should have stuck to her list, but she'd come to the realization that her list had been complete and utter ...

  Crap.

  She'd never find a man based upon a list.

  She leaned against the kitchen counter, watching her friends talking and laughing. Emma with Luke. Carter with Molly. Will with Jane. So damn happy. They'd had no list. For them, it had just ... happened.

  She and Bash had just happened, too.

  So what had gone wrong?

  The doorbell rang and she saw Emma go to the door. She couldn't see who was on the other side, but Emma stood there for a few seconds talking to whomever was there.

  Then Emma stepped aside and turned and made eye contact with her, almost as if in apology.

  And then Bash walked in.

  Her legs started shaking. Everything on her started shaking as her pulse went haywire. She laid her wineg
lass down on the kitchen counter, her hand trembling.

  Everything inside of her screamed no. She shook her head.

  "No," she heard herself whisper as she backed away, toward the back door. Bash advanced into the room, smiling and saying hello to everyone.

  He hadn't seen her yet. Maybe he didn't know she was here.

  But he had to know. Emma knew. She'd given her a look.

  Did Emma invite Bash? Why would she do that?

  Her body heated, and a sudden need to escape overwhelmed her.

  Until a cool hand circled her wrist. She turned to see Megan next to her.

  "You need to talk to him, Chelsea."

  She shook her head. "No, I don't."

  "Yes, you do. If for no other reason than to get some answers and closure."

  "Closure is overrated."

  Megan smiled, then pulled her close and hugged her, though Chelsea wasn't sure if that was actual affection or Megan trying to keep her from running like hell out the back door.

  Either way, it was too late, because suddenly Bash was there in front of her looking taller than she remembered. He had on a pair of dark jeans and a tight black T-shirt that fit him better than any shirt had the right to fit a man. Even his hair looked good, and he smelled great, and why did she even care? He wasn't hers anymore.

  "I'll let you two talk," Megan said, slipping away.

  "Thanks, Megan," Bash said, never taking his eyes off Chelsea.

  "Can I talk to you?"

  She shook her head. "No."

  "Chelsea."

  He reached for her, but she stepped away. "Don't."

  She turned around and slipped out through the back door, knowing he was going to follow her. But she couldn't have all her friends bear witness to this.

  She wrapped her arms around herself and stood on the patio, staring out at the moonless night. The stars were everywhere. She wished the blackness of the night would swallow her up and take her anywhere but here.

  "I never meant to hurt you."

  She let out a short laugh. "Such an insincere statement, spoken by every guy who ever dumped a woman."

  "I didn't dump you." He came around and stood in front of her, forcing her to meet his gaze. "I never meant for us to end."

  "Really. You telling me that someday I'd find some perfect guy--a guy who wasn't you--wasn't an end to us?"

  He dragged his fingers through his hair. "You're right. It was a stupid thing to say. When you told me you loved me, it scared the shit out of me."

  "I'm so glad to hear that. It's what every woman wants to hear when she declares her love."

  "Dammit, Chelsea. Please let me try and explain."

  She took a seat in the nearby chair. "Go ahead."

  He pulled up a chair right across from her, their knees a fraction of an inch from touching. She wanted nothing more than to fall into his lap and beg him to love her. But she wasn't going to get that, was she? So she'd settle at least for an explanation. That closure thing that Megan mentioned. She didn't think it would help, but maybe he'd leave after that and she could start healing.

  "What I did was unforgivable. The really sad, awful thing was I had already realized I loved you. You were the brave one, though. You said the words when I couldn't."

  "Why couldn't you?"

  "I don't know. My past relationship, I guess. My first marriage. God, that was such a disaster. Cathy had this idea of what I was supposed to be, and I ... wasn't. No matter what I did, it wasn't good enough. Not the right job. I didn't make enough money. She wanted a house and we couldn't afford one. She wanted a new car and we could only afford used cars. It's like no matter what I did or how hard I tried, I could never be the man she wanted me to be."

  Despite her discomfort, she felt that pain coming from him. "Bash, that's on her, not on you. You have to know that."

  "Logically, I know that. But there's your list. And all those things on your list that I'm not. I couldn't live with myself if I disappointed another woman. Especially you."

  Tears pricked her eyes. "And that's on me. You have to know by now that I never expected you to be anything other than who you are. I long ago gave up on that list. Maybe I should have told you that."

  He shrugged. "It's really not about the list, but more about who I am. Or maybe who I can never be."

  She sighed, realizing her part in what had happened to mess things up for them. "We've both made mistakes. I tried to develop this image of a perfect man, when there is no such thing. I'm sorry if by doing that I set you up--I set us up--for failure. But Bash, when I told you I loved you, I meant I loved you. The you that you are now, not some other you. I would never try to change you."

  He grasped her hand. "I know that now. And God, Chelsea. I'm so damn sorry I hurt you. You're the very last person I ever want to hurt. I love you. I love you more than I've ever loved another woman. I haven't slept since that night. You're in my head every waking moment, because you're in my heart. It's where you've been for the past few months, and that's where you're going to stay, no matter how things end up between us. But I hope you can forgive me for hurting you and tell me you'll give me another chance to show you I deserve your love."

  She hesitated, trying to push away the hurt, the things he'd said to her, because she knew now where they'd come from. She looked into his eyes and saw only clear love.

  She had to take the chance, because Bash was worth it. And looking at him, and seeing the way he looked at her, the genuine caring in his eyes, and the deep pain she saw there, she knew.

  He was it for her. He was the one.

  She pushed off the chair and climbed into his lap. "I love you, too. I could never stop loving you."

  He kissed her, tunneling his fingers into her hair as they poured out passion, desire, and love in their kiss. She grabbed hold of his shirt, needing that lifeline, smoothing her hands over his chest to feel the beat of his heart, to know that this was real.

  It was perfect.

  Until she heard whoops and hollers from inside and realized they had an audience.

  She looked up to see everyone looking out at them, wide grins on their faces.

  Chelsea laughed. "Okay, so maybe we need a more private venue for this reconciliation."

  Bash leaned his forehead against hers. "Yeah, I think so."

  They went inside.

  "So, everything's okay now?" Emma asked.

  Chelsea nodded. "Yes. Everything's great."

  "Best birthday present ever." Emma grinned.

  They hung out for a while, then left early, Chelsea following Bash to his house. They barely made it inside the front door before he shut the door, locked it, then pushed her against the door and kissed her.

  She felt every bit of his love for her in that kiss--a powerful passion that told her exactly how much he loved her.

  They shed their clothes on the way to the bedroom and told each other without too many words how much they'd missed each other. She couldn't take her eyes off of him, this perfect man who was now hers, and always would be.

  Afterward, he held tight to her.

  "Would you move in with me?"

  She rolled to her side and faced him. "Are you sure you don't want to think about that?"

  "Actually, it's all I've thought about since we've been apart. Even before that, actually. I envisioned you here, wanted you here. And after we broke up, I missed having you here, sleeping in my bed. I've missed waking up with you next to me. That's what I want. If that's what you want."

  She loved hearing him say the words, loved knowing he wanted her in his life. "Yes. I'd like that."

  He smiled, swept his hand over her face. "And at some point I figured we'd sell this place and you and I could pick out a new house together."

  "You have thought about this a lot."

  "Like I told you, I haven't done much sleeping. But I have done a lot of thinking about you. And me. And our future together."

  She shuddered in a breath. Bash might not be a perfect m
an, but he was the perfect man--for her.

  Epilogue

  The past few weeks had been a whirlwind. Chelsea had given notice at her apartment and had been packing up and moving into Bash's house. In addition, she'd kept busy helping Molly with wedding planning.

  She and Bash were also talking about things they were looking for in their next house. It wasn't coming up in the near future, but it was their next step.

  "So I have a list," Bash said that night as they climbed into bed together.

  She assumed he'd made a list about their future house. They'd been debating whether to build a new house or look for an existing build, so they'd talked a lot of pros and cons. She told him to make a list.

  "Is this about the house?"

  "Not exactly."

  She frowned and looked over at his notepad. "Then what kind of list did you make?"

  "It's my list for the perfect woman."

  She laughed. "I see. I can't wait to hear all about it."

  He scanned the list. "This is important. You have to follow this closely."

  She turned to face him, her legs crossed over each other. "You have my full attention."

  "Must like divorced men, because a guy has to learn from his mistakes before he can find the right woman for him."

  Her lips quirked.

  "Must like a guy who has crazy ex-girlfriends, because a certain crazy ex-girlfriend will bring him the perfect dog."

  Since Chelsea had Lou on the bed with her, she ran her hands over their dog. "Yes, we can't thank Gertrude--"

  "Gerri."

  "Whatever. We can't thank Gerri enough, because Lou is everything I could have wanted in a dog."

  Bash reached over and scratched Lou behind the ears. "That she is."

  "Okay, continue with your list."

  "Must like a guy who works at a bar, because you can do a lot of fun things on top of a bar."

  Chelsea felt herself blush. "Bash."

  He grinned. "It's true, isn't it?"

  "Well ... yes."

  "Okay, then. Continuing on. She has to be a redhead. I have a thing for redheads. No blondes or brunettes or raven-haired women need apply. A redhead is it for me."

  She took a deep breath, then sighed. "This is a very intriguing list."

  He looked over at her and nodded. "Right?"

  "What's next?"

  "Must be willing to tolerate sports. And all my friends."

  She shrugged. "That one's easy. I actually like sports."

  He cocked a brow. "You do?"

  "Of course."

  "Then why did you have 'must hate sports' on your list?"