Shaken Not Stirred (Mixology #1)(55)
Author: Alyssa Rose Ivy

“No. You have to do what’s best for you. Your job is important.”

“You are important.” He pleaded with me with his eyes.

“I’m not going to hold you back. You’ve worked too hard to let that happen.

He buried his face in his hands. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

“I’m sorry. It’s for the best though.”

“So what? You want time to find yourself? Is that what’s going on here?”

“That’s part of it.”

“When you figure out who you are, will you let me know?” It was more of a taunt, and that hurt worse than anything.

“Maybe. I don’t know.”

“What? I get you don’t want to come with me. I get you want space or something like that to ‘find yourself.’” He used air quotes. “But are you saying there’s not even a chance you want to try us again when I get back?”

“I don’t think you’ll like the person you find.” I forced myself to meet his eyes.

“What? How can you say that?” He looked at me, really looked at me like he was trying to pull out answers.

“You would have loved the girl I was supposed to be.”

“What if that’s who you are? Ever think that you’re running from yourself? You’re smart Maddy. So what if you didn’t get into medical school? Does that mean you have to give up on any career?” He reached for me. “Wait. Scratch all of that. I don’t care what you do. I just want you.”

“I don’t know what I want, and I’m not going to figure it out by following you to another continent so you can ignore me and work.”

“I told you I’m going to have more time. I promise.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“I love you, Maddy.”

I shook my head.

“No. You don’t get to tell me what I think and feel.” He reached for my hand, and I let him take it. “I love you.”

“I—”

“No. Don’t even say it. I know you feel the same way, but I also know you’re too afraid to admit it. The next three months are going to suck, but I’m not giving up on you, Maddy. I’m not giving up on us.”

“I’m not promising you anything.” I needed to be honest. I had no clue what the next few months would bring, and I wasn’t going to leave him with the wrong impression.

“I am. I’m going to Paris for work, and that’s what I’ll do. I’m calling you once a week, and if you don’t pick up, that’s your choice. But I’m calling. I’ve never met anyone like you, anyone who made me feel the way you do. I’d be an idiot to give up this chance.”

“Why promise that when I can’t promise it in return?”

“Because I’d rather you get it all out of your system. Do what you need to do. If that means sleeping with other guys—as awful as that sounds to me, then so be it. But I’ll let it be known that I don’t think sex is going to help you find yourself. You’re not going to find better sex than what we have.” He said it playfully, and it lightened the mood in a strange way. “But do what you need to. Talk to your parents. Figure out what you want. Just do me a favor and let me know if you leave Corolla. I need to be able to find you. Could you at least promise me that? Promise me that I’ll get to see you when I get back, even if you can’t promise you’ll want to date me?”

I nodded. My guess was he wouldn’t even care by the time he got back. He’d move on.

He took my face in his hands. “I’m sorry you feel that you need to do this. I wish you felt strong enough to jump on an opportunity, to take a chance with me here.”

“The chance is not going. The chance is staying.”

“I’m going to miss you. And you’re going to miss me. You like the way you feel when we’re together, and you’ll miss it. If it gets to be too much, just call. I’ll send you a ticket. This isn’t all or nothing.”

“I wish I had your confidence.”

“I do too. If you did, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“And that statement is exactly why we’re having it. We’re in such different places, and we both know it. Like I said before. You don’t really want me.” I stepped away from him and turned toward the door.

“Just like that? You’re going to leave just like that?”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Stay tonight. Give us a little more time.”

I shook my head. “No.”

“Why not? This whole thing has nothing to do with your feelings for me. I know that, so don’t even try to deny it.”

“I wasn’t planning to.”

“Then why not stay?”

“I’m afraid.”

“Afraid you’ll change your mind?” He knew me too well.

“Yes. And that would be a mistake.” I sighed. “Goodbye, Colin. Have a safe trip.”

He grabbed my arm and pulled me against him. “No. You are not walking out like that.” His lips crushed into mine, and I let them. I needed the closure as much as he did. I soaked it all in. I soaked in the cinnamon, the tanginess, the feeling of comfort I’d never found before. His hands roamed, and I broke the kiss. I couldn’t talk.

He squeezed my hand, but then let go. “Don’t do anything too crazy, Maddy. Don’t do anything you can’t come back from.”

“I already did that.” I smiled slightly before walking out the door.

Chapter Twenty-Two

I was out of ideas. Either Lyle didn’t have a drink, or if he did, I was incapable of finding it. I watched him setting up his guitar without even glancing over, and I startled as a flood of anger flowed through me.

I was so convinced the Manhattan was right, but it wasn’t. Maybe I was wrong about the whiskey. Maybe I was wrong about it all. I decided to give him the last drink I’d picture him enjoying. He didn’t seem into tart, and from the expression on his face when I gave him vodka, that wasn’t his thing either. I grabbed both and poured them into a shaker. I shook it hard before pouring it over ice in a highball. I didn’t bother with garnish.

My phone vibrated in the back pocket of my skirt. I let it go to voicemail. I knew who it would be. I repeated the same excuses I told myself every time I thought about it—which was at least ten times a day. If I’d gone with Colin I’d just spend the time waiting around. I’d have hated him by the end, and he would have hated me for being so upset. Maybe at some point I’d be willing to settle for someone who put me second, but at twenty-two it didn’t feel right. Not when I knew there were guys out there who understood me and who would want me enough to put me first. Maybe it wasn’t Lyle, but there was someone else.