The Revelation (46 page)

The music starts.

I’m in automatic pilot. I’ve heard this song ten
million times. I don’t even need to think to sing it.

There’s got to be a logical explanation why Josh
didn’t tell me about his move that has nothing to do with him
intending to break up with me when he moves here. He had to have
his reasons. Good reasons. The fact that he didn’t tell me doesn’t
mean he doesn’t want to be with me. There’s got to be another
logical reason. But I can’t think what it could be. What other
reason could there possibly be except that Josh doesn’t want to be
with me when he moves to Seattle?

Tears fill my eyes. Why doesn’t he want to be with
me? I want to be with him more than anything. More than I want
literally anything else. I think it’s fair to say I want to be with
Josh more than I want to breathe.

I pick up the microphone.

Maybe he was just gonna surprise me with the
news—and Jonas let the cat out of the bag? But, no. I saw Josh’s
face when Jonas spilled the beans. He didn’t look like a guy whose
happy surprise got unwittingly spilled by his brother. He looked
like a guy who just got busted on something—a guy whose cover just
got blown.

The teleprompter begins scrolling the words to the
song, and, even though I have no desire to sing it right now, my
mouth begins half-heartedly mumble-singing the first lines. But the
words are slaying me. They’re too close to home. They’re about
Whitney having no choice but to leave her lover. She loves him, but
she’s got to go. It’s just the way it is.

Everyone’s cheering uproariously. As far as they’re
concerned, I’m giving the performance of a lifetime—an
emotion-packed Whitney-tribute.

I yank the scarf off my head. Fucking scarf. Why the
fuck am I doing this? I don’t want to role-play a freakin’ fantasy
right now. I wanna talk to Josh in real-life. I wanna know why he
didn’t tell me.

The teleprompter reaches the words of the chorus—the
words I’ve been singing at the top of my lungs in the shower since
I was ten years old.

I look at Josh. He’s standing stock-still, no longer
playing his part. He’s looking at me with the same expression he
had when I opened my door to him in Las Vegas after reading his
application.

My eyes drift to the teleprompter again, though I
certainly don’t need it to know the lyrics.

I can’t sing these words to Josh. Not like this.
These are sacred words—magic words. The words I’d planned to say to
Josh later tonight when we were all alone in my bed.

The words I’d planned to say when I thought Josh
loved me, too, but just didn’t know how to say it. And now,
suddenly, I realize he doesn’t feel the way I do.

Without conscious thought, I toss the scarf into the
air, letting it flutter to the ground, bolt out of my chair, and
sprint out the front doors of the bar, ugly tears streaming down my
face.

Josh

“Kat!” I yell. She doesn’t turn around. The night
air is chilly, but my skin is blazing hot. This is a fucking
catastrophe. “Kat!” I yell again, my voice strained.

She whips around to face me, heat wafting off her
skin. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she blurts, tears streaming down
her cheeks.

My heart is physically pained at the sight of her. I
grab her shoulders, desperate to make her understand. “You’re
blowing this way out of proportion. Just listen to me, okay?”

“You put your house on the market three weeks
ago—you’ve obviously known for a while.”

I exhale. “I only decided for sure about a month
ago.”

She throws up her hands.

“But I’m not moving for two or three months,” I say.
“I can’t move until I’ve got everything squared away with Faraday
& Sons.”

Her expression is a wicked combination of
devastation and fury.

“I didn’t wanna say anything until it was closer,” I
say soothingly. “That’s all. I was gonna tell you. Just
later
.”

She clenches her jaw. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why wait ’til later to tell me?”

“Because I didn’t want you to get your hopes up
if...” I stop. I can already tell this isn’t gonna go over well. Oh
shit. I’m fucked.

“If what?”

I pause.

“If
what
?”

“If things didn’t work out. Between. Us.”

There’s an excruciating silence.

“Let me see if I understand this,” she says.
“Standing here right now you’re not one hundred percent sure you
wanna be with me
two months
from now?”

I throw up my hands. “Well, shit. When you say it
like that, it sounds horrible. But, yeah, I just wanted to wait
until I was sure I wasn’t gonna get your hopes up and then somehow,
you know, disappoint you.”

She blinks and huge, fat tears streak out her eyes
and down her beautiful cheeks.

“Kat, please,” I say, my voice quavering. My eyes
are burning. I close them and compose myself for a beat. “It’s no
reflection on how I feel about you. I think you’re amazing. And
gorgeous. Funny. Smart. Sweet. I think about you night and
day—that’s why I came to Seattle early. I’ve never had so much fun
in my life as I have with you.”

Oh shit. Something I just said lit her fuse—and not
in a good way.

“
Fun
?” she spits out, utterly enraged.

I roll my eyes. “Did you hear anything else I said?
Fun
was the very last thing I said—
after
saying a
bunch of other really awesome things. And, by the way, saying
you’re fun is a huge compliment.”

“Oh, thanks for the compliment. Makes me feel
great
. You can always count on Kat for a little
fun.
”
She wipes her eyes, but it’s pointless—tears are streaming out.

I look up to the night sky and roll my entire head
in frustration. This is so fucking horrific. I can’t believe she’s
overreacting like this. She’s so fucking temperamental, I swear to
God. “This is spiraling way out of control,” I say. “How much have
you had to drink? Are you drunk?”

“No, I’m not drunk. I’ve hardly had a drop.”

“Well, you’re acting drunk.”

“I’m not drunk. I’m pissed. And hurt. Deeply
hurt.”

“Why the fuck are you ‘deeply hurt’? I’m sorry I
didn’t tell you I’m moving, but I’m not gonna apologize for saying
I’m having
fun
with you—because I am.”

“I was gonna bring you home to meet my family,
Josh,” she says, her eyes watering and her voice cracking. “I
obviously can’t do that if all we’re doing is having
fun.
”

“What the fuck? You’re not gonna let me come meet
your family now? You’re
uninviting
me from the birthday
party?” Now I’m pissed. That goddamned party is the whole reason I
flew the fuck up to Seattle in the first place.

She’s in full terrorist mode. “I’ve brought a grand
total of three guys home to meet my family, Josh.
Three
. And
the last one didn’t work out so well. Colby sniffed Garrett out
like a St. Bernard tracking a lost skier
.
Colby knew Garrett
was with me for nothing but
fun
while I was in it for a
whole lot more. I’m not gonna subject myself to that ever
again.”

I’m speechless. She’s comparing me to Garrett
Bennett? She thinks I’m
using
her? Could she possibly
believe that, after everything we’ve been through together? After
everything I’ve said and done to make my feelings clear?

“That was such a low blow,” I say between gritted
teeth.

“Why is that a low blow? You can’t imagine dating me
eight measly weeks from now,” she seethes. “Fifty-two
days
.
My family would know you’re not in it for the long-haul—especially
Colby—and they’d eat you for breakfast.”

“Shit, Kat. Motherfucker. I fucked up, okay?” My
voice cracks. I press my lips together, regaining my composure. I
wait. My eyes are stinging. I take a deep breath and push
everything down. “I should have told you, okay? I’m sorry. But
you’re reading way too much into this. I’m not Garrett-Bennetting
you. You can’t seriously believe that.”

She shrugs.

“What did that fucker say to you, again?”

“He said I’m
fun
.”

“No, the other thing.”

“He basically called me a slut.”

“But what were his exact words?”

She shifts her weight. “He said I’m not ‘marriage
material.’”

I close my eyes and shake my head. I’m an idiot.
This is Kat’s Achilles’ heel—her Kryptonite—and I’ve served it up
to her on a silver platter.

“Listen to me, babe.” I grab her shoulders and look
into her eyes. “I never said I don’t wanna be with you eight weeks
from now. All I said was I can’t make promises about the future.
But that’s only because nothing’s for sure
in life
—it has
nothing to do with you, personally. That’s a factual statement.
Anything can happen. But right now do I
want
to be with you?
Yes. So bad it hurts—that’s why I came to Seattle early.”

Yet another battery of tears springs into her
beautiful blue eyes.

“Kat, please, trust me. I’m crazy about you. It’s
just that, except when it comes to business, I take things a day at
a time. It’s all I can handle—” I have to stop. If I say anymore,
I’m gonna lose it. My eyes are burning.

“I don’t wanna be some kind of glorified booty
call,” she says softly.

“
What
? Did you hear a word I said? I think
maybe you’re clinically insane. Or maybe you’re PMSing or something
because that’s the furthest thing—”

She makes a sound that can only be described as
prehistoric, making me stop dead in my tracks.

“I’m
not
PMSing! I’m crying because you hurt
my frickin’
feelings
—not because I have ovaries. You’re the
one who can’t imagine dating me fifty-two freakin’ days from now,
so don’t try to worm out of your assholery by playing the PMS
card!”

Her nostrils are flaring. Her eyes are wild. She
looks like a fucking dragon.

“Oh my fucking God,” I say. “You’re overreacting.
Again.”

“No, I’m not overreacting. You didn’t tell the girl
you’re supposedly ‘addicted to’ you’re moving to her frickin’ city
in eight weeks! How’d you expect me to find out? By bumping into
you at Whole Foods?”

I look up to the sky, biting my lip. She’s pissing
me off. I should have told her, yes, but she’s making mountains out
of molehills. “Yes, Kat. You guessed it,” I say. “I was gonna wait
to tell you until after we’d bumped into each other at Whole
Foods.”

She abruptly turns around and marches away from me.
“I’m going home,” she says.

I roll my eyes at her backside. Her purse and phone
are inside the bar and I’m the one who drove her here. How the fuck
does she plan to go home?
Déjà fucking vu.
We might as well
be in another hotel hallway right now. For a split second, the
image of her dripping wet ass cheeks stomping down the hallway
after Reed’s party flashes across my mind and I smile. She’s a
handful, this one—never a dull moment.

“Wait,” I command.

She doesn’t wait.

“
Wait
.”

“Enjoy living in Seattle,” she tosses back to me
over her shoulder. “Hope you have
fun
.”

“Oh my God. The drama,” I say. In five easy strides,
I’ve caught up to her. I grab her shoulders and turn her around and
kiss her. Without hesitation, she presses herself into me, throws
her arms around my neck, and surrenders to me.

I always say, when it comes to women, especially
angry ones, there’s very little that can’t be fixed with a fucking
awesome kiss.

We stand together, kissing like crazy for several
minutes, both of us bursting with desire and emotion and
arousal.

“I just don’t understand why you didn’t tell me,”
she whispers, abruptly pulling away from me. “I would have been
bursting at the seams to tell you if the situation were reversed.
You would have been the first person I would have called.”

My heart drops into my toes. When she puts it like
that, I suddenly understand why she’s so upset. “Babe,” I say. “I’m
just not wired to make promises about the future, that’s all. My
brain doesn’t work like a normal person’s.”

“I’m not asking for promises about the
future
—you think eight weeks from now is ‘the future’?” Kat
shakes her head and steps back from our embrace. “I’m not thinking
clearly. You kiss me and I lose my mind. That’s always been my
problem around you. I’m so physically attracted to you, I can’t
think.” She rubs her forehead. “I think we need to take a step
back. Slow things down. I think we need to find out if we actually
like each other in real life. Obviously, you’re scared shitless
this thing between us won’t translate to living in the same
city—and maybe you’re right.” She swallows hard. “Maybe we should
trust your gut.”

“
What
?”

“We’ve been living in a weird sort of fantasy from
day one,” she continues. “First we were in Las Vegas doing our
Ocean’s Eleven
thing and now we fly to see each other on
weekends so we can role-play imaginary-pornos and get stoned.
Everything with us is nonstop excitement—
fantasy
. We never
do normal, real-life stuff like play a board game or go to the
freakin’ grocery store.” She shrugs. “Maybe you’re just addicted to
excitement, and not to me, specifically. Maybe none of this is
real.”

My blood is pulsing in my ears. “Kat, no. Everything
I’ve ever said or done when I’m with you is real. Always. Even our
fantasies are real—that’s what’s so awesome about us—real life is a
fantasy when it comes to you and me.”

“Your move to Seattle is for sure?” she asks
softly.

“Yeah. I made a cash offer on a place yesterday.
It’s ten minutes away from Jonas’ place.”

Kat’s face contorts. “I just can’t believe you
didn’t mention that to me—especially after how many times I’ve said
the long distance thing is killing me or I wish we lived in the
same city.”