CHAPTER FORTY-ONE – Thinking of HIM?
Megan POV
The warm spring breeze caressed my cheeks as I strode down the bustling city sidewalks, but I barely registered its gentle touch.
My mind kept replaying the strained coffee shop encounter with Chris over and over, analyzing every nuance until it practically consumed me from within.
If I was being fully honest with myself, a large part of me had expected – perhaps even eagerly anticipated – him bringing up the incendiary topics we’d been so studiously avoiding.
The drunken night, the inappropriate Instagram post hinting at intimacies, the gathering tension constantly crackling between us lately…
How could he not finally broach those elephants in the room during our one-on-one time today?
The suspense of waiting for him to clear the air in his typical forthright manner had knotted my stomach into anxious ribbons from the moment I’d arrived at the cafe.
Yet Chris, ever the professional, hadn’t so much as skirted the issue once during our entire working discussion on the memoir draft.
He’d kept our interactions firmly confined to substantive writing insights and plot directions with a seamless ease that equally impressed and low-key disappointed me.
“Ugh, get your mind right, Megan,” I growled to myself, shaking my head sharply in a futile effort to scatter the circling thought patterns.
“Why am I thinking about him.” I muttered.
Whatever had transpired between Chris and I that wild night remained cloaked in a hazy, alcohol-blurred daze despite my occasional flashes of lucid recall.
Had anything even happened beyond the maudlin vulnerability and undressing session?
My gut instinct tried arguing there was a deeper undercurrent brewing, culminating in that regrettable insinuation of an Instagram post – but perhaps I’d simply read far too much into an ultimately harmless situation.
That’s what spurred you to action in the first place, isn’t it?
A concerned friend simply helping out a reckless drunk and making sure you got home safe?
No need to project unresolved feelings or complicated tensions onto the man…
I chewed the inside of my cheek in rare indecision, disgruntled by the dueling perspectives warring within me even now.
The harder I tried compartmentalizing or rationalizing away my messy emotions surrounding Chris and that night’s events, the more stubbornly those persistent inner voices argued back.
What if he sensed your desires awakening to the possibility of something more?
What if his smooth detachment today was a way of allowing you to retreat without having the matter explicitly addressed out of respect?
Suddenly, Chris’s careful avoidance of broaching any delicate subjects took on a whole new undertone in my wildly speculating mind.
I came to an abrupt halt in the middle of the crowded sidewalk, causing a few pedestrians to jostle around me with irritated mutters.
Of course, I wanted to scream at the indignant strangers while rooted in place.
That’s exactly the considerate and emotionally intelligent sort of man he was – offering up emotional space and shying from indelicately forcing me to confront what I may not be ready to face until…
Once again, my restless thoughts ground to a screeching halt as a new implication blossomed in my consciousness.
What if Chris was simply biding his time, allowing the simmering emotions between us to intensify further before ripping the issue into the open for good?
A calculated risk on his part either way – one to intentionally stoke the fires until they became impossible for me to ignore or extinguish on my own terms?
The surrounding urban hubbub fell into a distant roar as I was abruptly submerged within a stormy eddy of my own tangled feelings.
My pulse thundered in my ears while overheated prickles raced across my skin, equal parts fueled by indignation and an unmistakable frisson of… excitement?
Was this the game Chris intended to play all along? Subtly unbalancing me, seeding my mind with doubts and charged sexual tensions until I finally snapped and surrendered to whatever overwhelming force, he allowed to build between us?
The thought sparked rushes of both panic and heady adrenaline cascading through my veins. Sweet mercy, how had I allowed my reserved ghostwriter to utterly disarm me to such a disquieting degree? Yet admitting I now wholeheartedly craved whatever storm he intended to unleash was… petrifying.
Licking my suddenly dry lips, I blinked hard – only belatedly realizing I had come to a dead standstill on the sidewalk, earning increasingly irritated scowls and curses from impatient pedestrians forced to dodge around my rigid form.
“Uhhh, Megs?” A painfully familiar voice pierced my stupor. “You okay there, slugger?”
I whipped my head around with a start, pulse kicking higher as I found Josh beside me, eyebrows scrunched behind his black aviators.
“What the…? Josh! Jesus, when did you get here?” I blurted, cheeks instantly flaming hot under his scrutiny.
He snorted indelicately, rolling his eyes behind those ever-present shades. “Way to space out in the middle of foot traffic, champ. Nearly gave the masses cause for revolt, getting in their self-important way.”
Bristling instinctively at his sarcasm, I opened my mouth to fire off a scalding retort – until I processed the genuine thread of concern flickering across his features as Josh studied me.
“What’s eating you?” He prodded, expression growing serious. “Another ghostwriter drama you feel like unpacking?”
My jaw snapped shut with an audible click.
“It’s not…”
“Yeah, it’s all over the media I see you take my advice of GETTING A BEW BOYFRIEND.”
Blast Josh and his uncanny intuition about whatever turmoil was roiling within me, even on my most stoic days.
“THATS….”
There was simply no sense denying the source of my pent-up angst and frenzy – not to the one real confidante who knew me better than anyone.
“It’s… complicated,” I deflected anyway, despite the obviousness of the barb’s futility.
“COMPLICATED? Yeah, I day the media would love ” The world best Boxer new boyfriend “The nerdy Writer boy.”
“What? How .. how did you know it was him?” I questioned him amazed.
“Heh, it’s your one and only best friend that you refuse to make your official Boyfriend.” He sighed.
“Yeah, I know everything about you.” He laughed leaving me with my mouth agape.
Sure enough, Josh snorted again. “Oh, this ought to be rich if you’re leading off with the understatement of the year like that. Hit me, slugger – what fresh new bullshit did writer-boy get you all hot and bothered with now?”
I shot him a withering glare before glancing around furtively, abruptly self-conscious about the prospect of airing such sensitive topics in a public arena. “I’d rather not discuss it out in the open like this if it’s all the same to you…”
“Hey whoa, easy there,” Josh held up his palms in mock surrender, chuckling dryly. “Far be it from me to drag your dirty laundry into the gutter – literally and figuratively, in this case. Why don’t we grab a drink, get you all mellowed out to vent?”
I leveled him with another flinty look. “I don’t remember the last time we enjoyed a nice catch-up chat over just… one beverage.”
“Point taken!” He conceded easily. “No drinks got it. That mean you want to head back to the gym and work through it on the heavy bag? Or maybe… process through ten or twelve therapeutic rounds in the ring with yours truly?”
One dark brow winged upwards mischievously. “No promises on my stamina tonight though, I feel like you’re packing extra fire under the hood right now…”
“Josh!” I hissed out a strangled warning through gritted teeth, cheeks flaming hotter.
How he could effortlessly tread the line between teasing humor and well-meaning support, no matter the circumstances, I’d never fully comprehend.
Yet as infuriating as his flirtatious antics could be, in that moment the steadying familiarity of my irreverent coach’s presence felt like a tonic – dousing enough of the frantic, destructive thought spirals to at least allow me to breathe freely again.
I shot him a grudging, halfhearted scowl before blowing out a resigned breath.
“Fine, yes, let’s grab a quiet spot to talk,” I muttered in acquiescence. “Your townhouse, okay? Heaven knows if I invite you to my penthouse, it’ll be Lilly’s circus all over again within five minutes.”
Josh smirked crookedly before gesturing for me to precede him up the street with an exaggerated sweep of his arm.
“Ladies first. And for the record, you’re passing up on an excellent anger management strategy in declining my boxing ring solution…”
“Oh, just hush up and lead the way already,” I retorted without any real venom, rolling my eyes skyward.
As I fell into stride alongside Josh, I could feel my shoulders imperceptibly loosening – the tensions not fully evaporating yet, but at least compartmentalizing into more manageable degrees.
Perhaps venting out some of the inner turmoil to my caustic confidante would provide the clarity I so desperately needed.
Either way, I determined with a resigned inner sigh, there was little sense in wrestling further with my tempestuous feelings in public.
The last shred of pride refused to risk another potential spectacle.
For now, the only reprieve lay in leaning on Josh’s steadying presence. Goddess knew the cyclonic forces threatening to uproot my neatly ordered world wouldn’t be so easily quelled for long.
The nagging sense that Chris had become the catalyst for a seismic emotional shift within me only continued gaining traction with every step we took – no matter how hard I attempted shoving the unnerving suspicion aside.