Full Package

Briefly, I wonder if I can still do that. If I should do that. And the fact that I don’t know the right answer gnaws at my gut.

But then it’s my turn to pay. As I open my wallet to grab some bills, a business card falls out. I grab it from the counter next to the cashier and flip it over. Kevin’s card. Right. He included it when he gave me the cooking class certificate.

Oh shit.

I never thanked him for the class.

When I finish my turkey sandwich, I push away from the table, and tell David I need to go. Out in the corridor, I lob in a call, and Kevin’s receptionist puts me through right away when I say who I am.

“Dr. Summers, how the hell are you? I hope you aren’t calling to tell me you found something suspicious in an old forehead X-ray of mine?”

I laugh and shake my head. “Nope, and call me Chase. Anyway, I wanted to say thank you for the class. That was nice of you to do. We had a great time.”

“Awesome. Did you get engaged, too?”

I stop in my tracks in front of the MRI room. “What? No. Why? I just went with a friend.”

“Ah, that’s cool. I was just messing with you, since Cassidy and I got engaged that night.”

“Because of the class?” I ask, resuming my pace toward the stairwell.

“Yes, and we owe you. That’s one of the reasons we wanted to thank you when we came by a few weeks ago. Your suggestion to take that cooking class was exactly what I needed. Something just clicked for me that night at Enticing Appetizers. I knew Cassidy was the one for me forever. And the next night I proposed.”

As an orderly pushes a med cart down the corridor, I back against the wall, giving him room. “Huh,” I say, taking in Kevin’s news. “So it all became clear?”

“Like crystal.”

I flash back to the night Josie and I attended the quirky class, and how we made our great escape, fleeing from Ivory and then rumbling uptown on the subway, heading home. How, there on the train, Josie rested her head on my shoulder and threaded her hand in mine.

And it was clear.

Then later at our house, she took care of me when I twisted my ankle.

And it was clear.

A part of me knew then. A part of me was damn sure that she felt the same wild and crazy way I did. And I didn’t say enough at the time to hold on to her. I didn’t go out on a limb.

I took the safe option, not the risky, daring, hallelujah one.

Something else is clear right now, too. I haven’t moved on. I’m not over her. And I definitely don’t want to be just friends with Josie.

I want to know I can text her about a goddamn tuna fish sandwich, and I want to send that message as her man. I don’t want to fire it off as her favorite guy friend. I want to tell her about the tuna, then take her out to dinner and wander around the city with her, hand in hand. After that I want to go home with her, fall into bed with her, and love her.

That’s what I wanted a few weeks ago when I moved out. My heart, for her, hasn’t changed.

But what’s crystal clear now is that the bigger risk isn’t losing her as a friend. The bigger risk is losing the woman I’m pretty damn sure is the love of my life.

“Hey Kevin, can you help me with something?” I ask, remembering the corporate name on his business card. The guy’s job might be just the ticket. He’s got to know people, right?

“Anything. Name it.”

I tell him what I need, and he says, “Consider it done.”

When we hang up, I send Josie a text.



* * *



Chase: Hey! Any chance I can stop by the bakery when my shift ends? I have something for you.



* * *



Her response comes a minute later.



* * *



Josie: Yes. I have something for you, too.



There’s someone else I need to talk to first. I text Wyatt and he gives me the address where he’s working today.

The second my shift ends, I hop on my bike in my scrubs and ride across town to Wyatt’s job site, adrenaline fueling me, turning me back into the speed demon I’ve always been. He’s remodeling a kitchen in a brownstone in the West Eighties, and he comes to the door and lets me into the foyer.

“What’s the deal? You said it was mission critical,” he says, a hammer in his hand, his tool belt on.

My breath comes fast and hard from the two-wheeled sprint. “Yes. It’s critical.” I cut to the chase. “I need you to know I’m in love with your sister.”

He scoffs and runs his free hand over his chin. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

My jaw drops. “What? How did you know?”

He clasps my shoulder and laughs. “Dude, everyone knows that. The question now is: Are you finally going to do something about it?”