I won. I was up the entire night before sick with nerves.”
“I’m not nervous. We both know that Brody will win tomorrow, and he should. I’ve never met anyone like him before, and he deserves all the good things.”
She eyed me thoughtfully. “You want to talk?”
Ivan came back then, dragging two cases, and interrupting any answer I could give. “Chocolate’s on order.”
“Can you maybe take the cases upstairs?” she asked and some kind of conversation was had in a series of comical facial expressions, which ended with Ivan’s eyes widening and his gaze darting from me to the snow.
“Sure, I’ll uhmm… meet you in the room.”
She waited until he left. “Start from the beginning.”
“With what?”
“With this.” She waved a hand at my face, her bracelets jangling, her smile soft and encouraging.
“I’m just drinking my hot chocolate and minding my own business.” I smiled to take the edge off the statement, and she leaned forward and patted my knee.
“Well, I’m the kind of person who doesn’t leave their new friend staring into hot chocolate as if he’s thinking of diving in.”
Friend? She thinks I’m her friend. Am I? Jesus this is pathetic. I need a hug from Brody.
“I wouldn’t fit in the mug,” I deadpanned, but I didn’t cut the conversation dead.
“Is Brody okay? Are you okay? Are you and Brody okay together?” she asked all three questions as one, and some of it was easy, but the last bit was hard. Of course, we were okay together. We laughed and made love and smiled all the time.
“How did you know when you were in love with Ivan?” I blurted because it was the only way I could think of forming the question without using mine and Brody’s names.
She settled back into the sofa, and we waited for the staff member to drop off the hot chocolate. There were two on the tray, so I took Ivan’s and hoped he didn’t resent me for stealing his drink and the time with his girlfriend.
“It happened quickly, one moment I was gushing over how wonderful his baking was, the next we were in the closet, literally inside with the buckets and this big ass ladder. We went from zero to sixty in minutes and then from dating to being in love just as quick.”
“How did you know you were in love?” Could I sound any more stupid?
“I used to watch him when he slept, and he would be smiling, and I wanted to share his dreams. He’d bake something, and I’d want to cover him in fudge and lick it off. He’d hug me, and I would feel immediately as if we were the last two people in the world. There are moments when he tells me his dreams, finds a pot of fudge body paint, and then tells me that I was the only person in his heart. We fit. That’s love for me.”
“When you told him, did you ever imagine he might tell you he felt nothing for you?”
I assumed everyone else in the world knew exactly what love was and had no trouble expressing their feelings, but she surprised me.
“I was petrified,” she admitted. “What if he told me I was delusional? Or laughed at me? But I laid it all out there, opening up myself and offering my heart to him, and it was the bravest most terrifying thing I’d ever done. Love is like that you know, a roller coaster ride of ups and downs along with brutal honesty and overwhelming trust.”
“What if I tell Brody how I feel, and he sees right through it? It’s only been a few weeks but the way I want to be with him, this breath-stealing fear, it’s too much. Do I just desperately need a friend after all this time? I’m confused.”
“Oh, Justin.” She poked my arm. “Anyone with half a brain can see that Brody is falling for you, it’s destiny you know. Anyway, what’s the worst that can happen?”
“I could lose a friend,” I whispered.
“And if you don’t tell him what you’re feeling, then you might lose the chance to find your one true love.” She air-quoted that last bit and then made a heart with her hands. “The way I see it, you can tell him you want to see him after the show, suggest a date, take it slow, give it time, or you can go up to him and tell him that you think you’re falling in love and see what he says.”
I walked Kristen to