If- Nina G. Jones Page 0,110

Jordan got caught in a shit storm. We can’t live our lives with what ifs. There’s too fucking many of them. You know he wasn’t supposed to come down until the next week, but because of a work thing I made him go earlier so he could watch Anna. I could sit here all day asking myself why I did that.”

“You can’t do that to yourself.”

“Exactly, and neither can you.”

I spent the rest of the day watching Netflix with Trevor, teaching Anna some dance steps, and doing my best to learn how to live again. Trevor and I agreed to make this happen often. The next day, I headed back home.

BIRD

When I got back home from San Francisco, I found Ash in the kitchen frantically toiling over several pots and pans.

It was the first time I had felt normal in a while.

“Hello,” I called out over the sounds of the record player and sizzling. He jumped and spun around. He was wearing my ruffled apron and I burst out into laughter.

“That’s great. Just laugh at a man who’s secure enough in his manhood to wear a floral ruffled apron.”

“I’m sorry, it’s hilarious. Though there is something oddly sexy about it . . .”

Maturity looked good on Ash. Of course he was only twenty-six, but wow did twenty-six look good on him. Twenty-one looked good too, but twenty-six was like Ash with sprinkles on top.

“Can I help? I don’t recall you being much of a cook . . .”

“That’s why they invented the internet.”

“Oh, this is going to be baaaaad. How was your mom’s?”

“It was good. It’s still hard. Everyone is trying to be positive and commemorate my father with fun stories, but I missed out on so much. I can’t help but feel like such an asshole.”

I felt for him. I wanted to turn back the clock and give him those years. But what was important was he was letting those thoughts out right away instead of letting them rot him from the inside out.

“I understand. You’re not though. You are one of the most caring people I know.”

He gave me a half-smile. “Everyone is trying so hard to make me feel welcome because they are so afraid I’ll leave again.”

“I know all about that too,” I said.

Ash didn’t reply to that one. I wasn’t trying to throw a jab at him, it was just honesty. Ash had been perfect, but I still had that flicker of doubt that he was capable of disappearing again. I just couldn’t shake that fear.

We sat down to a scrumptious dinner of overcooked pasta and rubbery chick parm. Ironically, it was the most I had eaten in weeks.

I stepped away to the bathroom and when I came out, the record player was on again, playing a song that brought me back to my time with Ash in my small studio. It was the song we first kissed to.

“May I have this dance?” he asked with his arm extended.

I smiled and shook my head as I walked over and gave him my hand. This time it wasn’t two tentative kids working their way up to a kiss. I fit comfortably against him as he rested a hand on my hip and held the other one up and out and we swayed softly, side to side.

I rested my head on his shoulder and took in his scent, the faint lingering of his bergamot and orange body wash. He leaned his cheek against mine, so the scruff of his beard gently scratched my cheek.

We hadn’t done anything other than kiss a few times; there was just too much death surrounding us. I was just trying to survive. But finally I felt desire swell inside of me. I rubbed my free hand up Ash’s chest, his neck and then through his hair, tugging on it as I looked up for my lips to meet his.

He grabbed me and I wrapped my legs around him as he carried me to my oversized windowsill. It was one of my favorite spots in the condo. Just to the side of us was downtown LA, the place that for all its good and bad, brought us together.

“I want you inside of me,” I begged. “That’s all I want to feel.”

He pulled himself out of his jeans. “I could live inside of you,” he said as he pressed his warm body against mine.

BIRD

I COOKED FOR Ash the next morning, making the works: pancakes, eggs, bacon.

“Holy hell,” he said walking out to the feast