Yours, For Good (Cozy Latine Billionaires #4)

18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Nora

We were done eating ice cream, and talked about everything and anything while we finished our coffee, when his phone rang.

"I'm sorry—" he got his phone out of his pocket and stared at the screen. "It's one of my friends. They're the only ones with the ringer on."

I remained silent as he checked his notifications.

He frowned. "I have to take this. I'll be right back. Sorry."

I nodded and watched him go. He stepped outside the coffee shop, leaving his coat behind, and sat outside on a sidewalk bench. The pose he adopted was quickly becoming familiar, with a casual lean back, an ankle over his other leg, and a hand over the lifted knee.

His frown dissolved slowly, to be replaced with a faint smile on his lips. I didn't realize I watched him until he lifted his serious eyes my way, and our gazes locked. I cocked my head to the side, unashamed. He lifted his free hand and waved his fingers playfully; I returned the gesture.

I sighed. It was totally okay to find your friend incredibly attractive, right? One could absolutely have thoughts like that and have them be objective. Neutral. Like studying a piece of art and knowing it was classically beautiful, and noting the skill it took to make it, even if it didn't make you feel much to look at it.

Javier had a classically attractive look, like a greek statue someone had dressed in fine, modern garments. People who met the European beauty standard weren't always my type, but Javier seemed to be an outlier in many ways— hot, rich, kind, thoughtful… it made sense I could appreciate his aesthetic proportions. The depth of his eyes. His reserved smiles.

Wanting to keep him as a friend made even more sense. I had never had a long term relationship of any kind, except for my mom. Romantic relationships failed way more often than platonic ones, and much more spectacularly. I never wanted the grief and heartbreak of losing someone I truly cared for again. I could have a thrilling life, fulfilling all my needs through friendships, found family, and one night stands. My body and my heart didn't have to match to coexist.

I let my eyes wander to him again. Weak snowflakes floated in the air, the kind that would evaporate just as they touched the ground. A couple of them fell on his shoulders and melted instantly, but one fell in his hair and remained stubbornly there for several seconds. He didn't seem to notice.

Christmas had been almost a week earlier, and yet the scene looked so holiday-core it pulled a smile out of me. I briefly allowed myself the fantasy that this was a made-for-TV Christmas movie, where we all knew the hero and the heroine would kiss at the end. In the film screen of my mind, I imagined it wasn't midday but the evening, and the strings of light above Javier were on and bright and reflecting off his hair. He looked hot in that movie, too.

I shook my head at myself. Romanticizing the scene outside did nothing to keep things chaste and amicable, so I went ahead and paid for our dessert. That was a friendly gesture on my part, and a way to remind myself where Javier and I stood.

I couldn't risk the friendship I was developing with Javier, just because I liked who he was as much as how he looked.

He entered just as I gathered our coats.

"Ready to go?" He grabbed my jacket from my hands, and helped me put it on like a gentleman.

I quickly checked my mental files. I was pretty sure that was a first for me.

He even went as far as to get my hair out from under the collar, his fingers cold from being outside. That's why I shivered.

"Give me a sec to pay—" he started, putting on his own coat.

I didn't help him. "I paid already. We're good."

His eyes snapped to mine. "What? Nora."

"Javier."

"Why did you pay?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

His eyes narrowed, just as his fingers buttoned up his jacket. "It just… feels wrong to have anyone pay for anything when I'm around."

I put my scarf on and tucked it inside my coat, and he guided me through the door with a hand low on my back. We made our way out together.

"Javier, have you thought about going to therapy to deal with your privileged guilty conscience?"

His laugh exploded. A few birds took flight at the sudden noise.

I stopped in my tracks. I gazed up his tall frame, taking in the grin still on his face. Those crinkling eyes I ador— I appreciated. "What did I say? I didn't think it was that funny."

"I have thought of therapy. I still go a few times a year. That's where I learned to journal about my guilty conscience."

I frowned at him, confused. He shook his head and started walking again. I followed him.

"Everything okay with your friends?" I asked him.

"Yes. Great, actually. Gabe wanted to make sure I attend the next board meeting personally— he and his family own a big conglomerate where I'm one of the biggest investors. He had some last minute news about a transition plan for his dad's retirement. Long story short, we're going to surprise another one of our friends with a promotion much earlier than expected."

We turned toward the beach, if the mental maps I had built of the town during the past week were right. I would know within three blocks if I was correct, when we turned right, walked a few hundred feet, and met the small strip of sand that became a dead end to the road.

"How many people are in this friend group?" I asked.

"It started with four of us— and now Gabe's partner and his sister always join us, and Max's wife. We're all practically adopted by Gabe's parents, too."

"They are the people you call family, right?"

He nodded. "They're my people."

A cold winter breeze blew through my hair. I turtled into my coat. If Javier already had a found family… what room was there in his life for an extra friend?

We turned right at the end of the third block. The large strip of ocean welcomed us from the end of the street. It didn't take us long to reach the sidewalk that ran alongside the narrow beach.

Brine and ozone reached my nose; the light snow from only fifteen minutes earlier had turned into faint rain.

Javier leaned on the railing overlooking the beach. If I watched him from afar, I'd decide he made for a moody man in a moody painting on a moody day. But I was close to him, and wondered instead at how he could have these people in his life and still give off this lonely vibe.

Maybe I wanted to see a lonely vibe, to feel closer to him. Like he could understand who I was, too, if we shared that one piece. It's not like we shared much else.

"How often do you see your friends?" I asked.

"A few times a year. As often as we can make our calendars match. We text almost everyday, though."

I mirrored him on the railing. The view was much different than on Halloween, when we chatted while overlooking the city.

"So…" I wet my lip and tried again. "So, when you say you spend a lot of time alone, is that… by choice? You're not that lonely?"

He gazed at me, a line between his brows. He took my question seriously, and it helped the ache I tried to hide behind my sternum.

"I do spend a lot of time alone. Not often lonely… but sometimes I wonder…"

His eyes dropped to my mouth. A tremor started at my feet and climbed up my legs. I didn't think there were many earthquakes on this slice of coast but, if not, then it was his eyes on my lips that had flutters overtaking my stomach.

Everytime I'd met Javier he was clean shaven, and that day was no different. It helped me see his gulp. I echoed him, a sudden tension in the space between us.

"What do you wonder?" I managed to ask.

"It changed— recently it feels different."

He licked his top lip in a way that shouldn't be as mesmerizing as it was to me. The quiver had reached my diaphragm, making it hard to breathe.

The line marring his brow deepened into a frown. He closed his eyes and turned to the ocean slowly.

"Different how?" I released a slow gust of air.

It took him a moment to respond, hesitation clear in his stance.

"Two of my friends are happily paired up. The third one will get there soon enough— we even know with whom— Gabe's sister. It's just a matter of time. Then I will be the only one… you know. Single."

"Do you… want to be?"

He shook his head. "It doesn't really matter. I don't see a way…" He pressed his lips. "I will be. It's fine."

"How come you're so certain?"

His blue gaze met my eyes again, a degree of exasperation shining in them. "You're infinitely curious, aren't you?"

"I thought you liked my two million and one questions."

"I do, until you're asking me about this one thing."

"Would it help if I told you I also think I'll be single forever?"

His eyes searched mine. "That's not poss— I mean, how would that help?"

"We can keep each other company. We could make a pact on it."

"A… pact?"

"Yeah." I nodded. "If we're both single as a pringle by the time I turn thirty… and I assure you, I will be…"

The sentence ended in a thin breath. Whatever neurosparkles I possessed, they were acting up right now and seemed way too happy to get me in trouble.

It didn't matter if we were single or not, if the plan was to be friends. And that had to be the plan, unless— no, not unless . That had to be the plan, because of my business, and my past, and all the things he didn't know about me, and all the things I wasn't ready to tell him about. Because, as a friend, the chances of losing him were much lower.

I closed my eyes. "Sorry. I'm getting way ahead of myself."

He lifted my chin to him with a fingertip. His solemn eyes studied me closely.

"What were you going to say?" he asked.

I couldn't look away. Despite my confused heart, one thing was clear— I believed he was a caring guy. Maybe I could risk a little more, even if I wasn't ready to tell him everything I kept inside.

I gulped. "I was going to offer a friendship pact. We could be BFFs. I could make us bracelets."

His face revealed hardly-repressed humor. "If you still want to be my friend when you turn thirty, I'll be happy to be your friend."

"Promise?" I offered him my pinky.

He hooked his pinky around mine. "Promise."

"Okay." I opened my arms wide in an invitation for a hug. "Bring it in."

He smirked but stepped into the hug. Even more, he took ownership of the embrace. His arms surrounded my shoulders, and he became my very own windbreaker. Warmth seeped from his body to mine.

"Friends, then," I said against his chest.

I sighed. I clung to him, repeating in my head over and over that this was the smarter idea.

The words became a prayer, when I kissed him on the cheek and let go.

"Better than enemies." He gave me a single nod.

And better than lovers, too.

I needed to be careful, or I'd end up being the one to ruin the friendship by feeling brave and catching feelings.

Javier

After our walk, we returned to Lock Willow, played cards with Lizzie, then spent time together silently reading our books in the library. She muttered something when she saw my glasses, but she didn't clarify, and I didn't ask.

This morning, we'd taken the same books for a picnic brunch at the beach, where we read for a few hours on a blanket on the sand.

Twenty four hours of innocent, pleasant friendship that I enjoyed thoroughly… and couldn't get enough of.

It was just a hug. Just a kiss on my cheek. Get it together, Javier.

No matter how often I repeated the words in my mind, they were always followed by a rebellious voice in my head.

More .

I took the stairs down to the library at Lock Willow, after writing in my journal for the night. It was New Year's Eve, and I expected to find Nora there, an hour after we had dinner with Lizzie.

I should have felt shame over the battle going on inside. My journal should have seen more and more of the guilt harpooned into my guts; that I held onto self-denial by a single thread. We had promised friendship, and the least I could do was give that to her. No room for me to focus on how charmed I'd been when we pinky promised to be friends if we were single. No right to feel longing hidden in a few extra beats of my heart, when she asked for a hug.

Fuck, for a second, when she'd talked about a pact, I expected her to talk about a marriage pact. That she would say, "If we're single when I'm thirty, we'll marry each other."

I had no business being disappointed that she'd promised friendship. Friendship was a wonderful thing to offer and as much as I could hope for, dammit. Despite joking about it, being enemies was still on the table, if she ever learned of my deceit.

The light of the library was on. My eyes searched for Nora as soon as I crossed the door; I found her on the sofa, her feet up on the cushions, her shapely, thick legs straight and crossed at the ankles. She focused on her phone as she typed fast.

"Oh— I'm interrupting." I stopped in my tracks. "I can come back later…"

"No, no." Her eyes remained on the device, but she folded her legs under her to make room for me on the couch. "I'll be done in a sec."

I sat down on the other side of the sofa, moving slowly; it still felt wrong to disrupt her. She seemed so focused, despite the little smirk curling her lips. Whatever she did took all of her attention. She enjoyed it, too, if the shine around her was any sign…

She really took joy out of the little things. She carved it out of thin air, and slathered it on her skin where it nourished whatever source of light she carried inside, and glinted for every witness to marvel at.

Wonder cut across my ribcage; a sharp blade clearing a path through thick vegetation. The trail opened among the hundred little moments we'd shared in person, hell, even in the parts of her personality that shone through her letters. My fascination with her, the way it perplexed me and enticed me in equal measure… it was a missing piece in the puzzle, one I hadn't known had been misplaced.

If I followed this path, I'd see the real picture. It was close… it meant…

"Sent." She put her phone in the tight space between her thigh and the sofa's back cushion.

Not a second later, my phone vibrated in my pocket, indicating I had received an email from Nora to my Mr. B— to the John Grier pupil address.

I pressed my lips, my eyes closing for an instant. Fuck, I had set up that notification. It shouldn't surprise me that it worked.

"Everything okay?" she asked.

"Yep." I opened one eye to glance at her. "You?"

Please tell me you didn't hear that notification.

She watched me with an even clarity in her eyes. "You look in pain."

"It'll pass. I think." I gave her a small smile, and hoped it proved to her that everything was okay. "I came here to ask— what do you want to do tonight?"

"We should do something, right?"

"I think so. I don't usually do much, but Lizzie mentioned fireworks earlier today."

"Fireworks?" Nora asked, right as Lizzie joined us in the library.

She smiled at us, and put the basket she carried on top of a nearby table. "Fireworks, yes! I thought you two might enjoy that."

"What's in the basket?" Nora got up and, without putting her shoes on yet— she'd left them next to the sofa— she opened one of the lids keeping the secret contents safe.

Lizzie let her snoop. "Just a few cookies in case you get peckish, and a thermos with decaf coffee in case you get cold. A blanket to sit on to watch the spectacle."

I stood and approached them. "You spoil us. Thank you."

Nora cast playful eyes my way. I had no issue reading the thoughts in her mind.

She's spoiling you .

I smirked and rolled my eyes.

"Okay, go. Shoo! Be young. Go out and enjoy the fireworks."

"Do you want to come with us?" Nora asked.

"Oh, no." Lizzie tsked. "I'm too old for that. George and I will be fast asleep by the time the bells toll at midnight. Carrie and Amasai went out already."

She gave me a set of keys. Nora stepped back to the sofa, and put on her shoes.

"Thank you, Lizzie."

"Enjoy. See you tomorrow," she said as she made for the hallway.

"Good night, Mrs. Semple," Nora called as I took the thermos out of the basket and sniffed its contents.

Quietly, I brought it to the liquor cabinet and added a splash of brandy into it.

"Ohhh, sneaky." Nora appeared next to me. "I approve. For a proper midnight toast."

"Ready?"

"Let's go."

When I had a second, I swiped the notification of her email away. I had no intention to read it until another time. Not when she was around, in any case.

I would leave the next day. I could read it then. Distance was a refuge I sorely needed, to keep myself in check.

Somewhere halfway to the beach, Nora hooked an arm around mine.

"It's cold tonight!"

"It's worth it."

People already gathered in the sand to wait for the show. A few children ran around and screamed, overexcited, and running on fumes that late at night.

"This is amazing." Nora squeezed my arm. "I want to be in the middle of it all."

We found a small space that fit us both. I lowered the basket to the sand, and spread the blanket down for Nora.

"Sit on the edge of it," I said. "I'll wrap you up. It's quite cold."

"What?" she asked, not immediately following my instructions. "But what about you? The blanket isn't very big."

"It's all good. I have the coffee."

"Oh, no way." She took the blanket from me and, even though she sat on a small fold she rested on the sand, she also made sure to use only a corner.

It made just enough room for me to sit next to her, and for us to share the blanket.

Holding the thick cloth in her hand, she opened her arm to invite me in. "We have our coats, and the coffee, and the blanket, and body heat. We'll share it all."

I rubbed my lips together and checked my watch, like it would gain me enough time to find an excuse. The thing was, I didn't want to find an excuse not to sit that close to her.

I took her invitation and hunkered down next to her. "Twenty minutes to go."

She took one corner of the blanket and tucked it in my coat, her hand practical and assertive under the wool of my jacket. I let her, halfway paralyzed; the gesture should feel innocent, but her face ended up close to mine. A curl of her hair tickled my lips, and maybe I was a bit touch-starved after the hug, because a shiver ran down my spine at her proximity.

"Christ," I muttered.

Distance was supposed to be my savior, and it was crucially—cruelly— missing at the time.

"Huh?" Her eyes turned to me and widened as she realized how close we were.

I gulped. Her hand stopped right over my heart. Enough layers separated us that I didn't think she'd notice the way the poor, confused organ stopped. I didn't move.

"Sorry." She took her hand away and sat back. "I'm totally invading your personal space."

"It's all right."

Invade me.

No, don't.

I didn't know if the last part was to her, or to myself. It should have been to myself.

"I'll finish securing it," I managed through tight lips. "It's too cold to do without."

She took the other corner and tucked it in her coat.

"We'll be cozy enough," she said. "Especially once we have our drink."

I handled the basket and served us each a small cup. She sighed and gazed around the beach, smiling at the children and laughing at their antics. I gave her one of the metal tumblers, we clinked them together, and sipped in silence for a few minutes.

"Are you cold?" I asked after a while.

"No. I'm very cozy now, thanks."

"Penny for your thoughts?"

She smirked and glanced sideways at me. "I'll share for a million."

I copied her gesture. "A million what?"

"A million guesses, but you'd never get it right, so I'll tell you."

I sipped from my coffee again and arched an eyebrow as I waited for her reveal.

She sighed again. "I'm thinking about happiness."

"Yeah? How it always feels far out of reach, even when you have everything in place to feel it? How it's such a fleeting emotion, that it doesn't make sense to bank everything on it?"

"Wow." She laughed, and it pulled a smile out of me. "There's the cynicism you keep threatening me with."

"I'm just being realistic."

"Okay, no." Her head and shoulders turned to me, bringing her closer somehow. She challenged me with humor tilting her lips, and fire in her eyes. "That's such a pet peeve of mine. Pessimists always call themselves realists and it's never the case. What you said was pessimistic, Javier. A realist would own it."

"Woah." I chuckled. "Thanks for speaking your mind."

"You're welcome. Now tell me the actual truth."

"That was my truth. Do you know a better one?"

"Yes." She cleared her throat and lifted her metal cup as if she were making a toast. "Joy is fleeting, but happiness is stable. It's a way of being. Happiness is knowing that even as the waves come and go on the surface, cresting in sadness and anger and fear, the depths of the ocean don't change. The core of you remains content, and trusting, and hopeful. That your life might be unpredictable at the edges, but the part of you that is really you? That part knows things are still good underneath."

I blinked. Her words sucker punched me— once again. In more ways than one.

What she said… that was her truth. It was the source of that light within her, glinting in her bright smile and her defiant eyes. The final puzzle piece.

Yes, I craved it, wanted more of it… but I could never make it mine. She was too good. Too sweet for my bleak spirit. Out of my league.

A ton of dynamite went off between my lungs.

"Don't leave me hanging, Javier! Accept the truth of my words and make a toast with me."

I clung to her teasing like a raft in the sea. The waves up here needed to drown the explosion, stat.

I gulped and clinked her cup with mine. "I accept this truth. You're right, and I've been a pessimist."

My voice came out rough.

"Thank you!" She sipped from her spiked drink. "My pleasure. Now you have a resolution for the new year."

"I guess I do. I'll work on it. Film noir hero goes on a journey, and all that."

My chest hadn't fully recovered, but that was a truth enough. And yet, even if I found happiness and optimism inside of me somewhere, she would always be leagues ahead. I couldn't be the shadow pulling down from Nora's shoulders.

Every nail on the coffin of my feelings lined up before my eyes. Having to protect the John Grier program and what it could do for people in Nora's situation, and the fact I had hidden who I was. That I had no business craving something from Nora she might never want to give me, especially if she learned the whole truth. And the biggest nail of all, that my disillusionment could bitter her soul.

"Three minutes!" Someone nearby yelled.

"I'm not sure what my resolution should be," Nora said, unaware of the turmoil inside of me. "I suppose it should be to get an investor for my business."

"Is that what would… feed your happiness?"

She took a second to consider. "It would make me secure."

"If that's what you need, then it's a good resolution."

"Mmh. I'll have to think about it." She sighed.

I took a deep, settling breath. My newfound truth shouldn't ruin the night. My gloomy disposition should never eclipse the sun she was.

Her silence didn't last long.

"I'm glad you're here tonight." She gazed at me and smiled. "Thanks for making this one wave a good one."

"It is a good one, isn't it?" I smiled.

My life was great. I could make this be enough between Nora and me. I could be grateful, and remember to seek happiness in the small things, too.

"Besides," she added, "I don't know that I'd be this warm under the blankets without your body heat. What was Mrs. Semple thinking? It's so small!"

Exactly like that.

I laughed. "You're unpredictable, you know that?"

"I'd never want to be boring."

The blanket came loose from her side. It started to fall down her back, but I grabbed it and pulled it back up.

I frowned, and tried to secure the blanket around her. "You're not. You're charming and frustrating in equal measure."

It took her a second to reply, so I glanced at her. I knew I was close, but hadn't expected to be this close… and with my arm around her shoulders…

She leaned closer to me and landed us in an embrace.

"Frustrating?" Her voice was quiet. "Not endearing?"

I barely heard her, despite our proximity. She studied my face, as if taking a measure of my features.

"Frustratingly endearing, then," I said.

My arm didn't respond to my commands, and it remained around her shoulders. Her eyes trapped mine. This was a little moment to find joy in, right?

"As long as there's some degree of delight," she whispered.

Her lips were close. I shouldn't be looking at them. Wasn't that part of my new year's resolution?

But it wasn't past midnight yet…

"Perhaps a growing sense of affection." I licked my bottom lip.

Wasn't kissing someone part of the tradition for the evening, too?

"Ten!" someone announced nearby. People around us joined in the count down. "Nine!"

She held steady. The shimmer in her eyes was curious, maybe even close to a dare.

"Seven! Six!"

I could kiss her. Call it a friendly New Year's peck. Say fuck you to who I wanted to become, for five more seconds.

A tiny twitch narrowed her eyes— she was thinking hard as well. Maybe she wondered about an innocent kiss, too…

Her eyes dropped to my mouth. She definitely was.

"Five! Four!"

It wouldn't be an innocent, simple, friendly kiss. Not for me.

"Three! Two!"

Back and forth, the battle inside me continued with blasts on every corner. Nora made my emotions into a minefield, awakening feelings too ready to burst out of me. I liked it too much.

She waited for me to make a move. I had promised I wouldn't.

"I shouldn't," I said before I knew what I was doing.

"Me neither," she mouthed to me.

"One! Happy New Year!"

Sound exploded around us all at once. People laughed and cheered, hugging each other; children screeched and blew noisemakers, and detonations from the raft in the bay reached us right behind the first few fireworks lit up the sky.

Nora turned to the spectacle above us. Colors showered on her skin and glinted in her eyes. She smiled, unaffected and free.

I had been good. Barely, but I had managed.

I kissed her cheek. "Happy New Year, Nora."

We may not be compatible enough for romance, but friendship flourished regardless. She'd always known that, and I was finally lucid enough to know the whole of it.

Going our own ways the next day would help us. It was easier keeping the lines between us when I couldn't feel her close and see her thinking about kissing me, too.

Before I could do something I'd regret— something Nora could blame me worse for— I joined her in admiring the show in the sky.