The One After [SHAWN MENDES]

Chapter 20

When my alarm went off at five in the morning, I was thankful that the cruise had ended early the night before because it meant I got two extra hours of sleep. I promised my dad I'd help out at the bakery since one of his staff was on parental leave after becoming a daddy.

"I'm glad you're done with that job," Dad said as we prepped some pastries. "It felt sleazy to me, and don't get me started on what your Uncle Sal said."

"Lemme guess...he compared it to prostitution?"

He grunted in response.

"The money was great, and I got to hang out on a cruise ship four to six times a month during the warm months. I knew I wasn't for sale, and that's what matters."

"Still, men were looking at you a certain way, and you manipulated them to get them to spend money. What would-" He stopped himself, but I knew he was going to add, '-your mother think?'

I stayed at the bakery until one in the afternoon, taking both lunch and dinner with me. I had some lettuce at home, so I could make a salad to balance out the fact that I was eating all carbs.

When I got to my apartment, I brewed myself a cup of coffee, which made me think of Shawn. He never responded to my texts, which confirmed that whatever we had was now over. I took my mug and a chocolate croissant to the bedroom and smiled at Inky who was sprawled in a patch of sunlight on the floor. After changing into pajamas, I crawled in bed and opened my phone. Briya and Fallon had texted earlier about a restaurant that needed two waitresses, so I replied that they should interview and not worry about me. If they waited until a place had three openings, they might get behind on their rent.

When I was done eating, I picked up my journal and wrote about the incident the night before. Throughout the day, I'd felt this phantom hand on my ass, and each time it made me feel queasy. I retold everything in great detail, because reliving it that way was cathartic.

...I used to think that being a party girl was empowering, but now I'm not so sure. We were disposable props designed to sell drinks, but ultimately it didn't matter to me because I knew it was an act and that I'd never give any of the men what they wanted.

But I did give in to one of them.

I slammed my journal shut. "No regrets. You didn't fuck him the night of the cruise, so it doesn't count."

Impulsively, I went on my phone and searched Shawn's name to see if he'd made the news lately. There was a blurb about him presenting at the VMAs and another about the crocodile book he'd done voice-work for. Apparently it was premiering in November, which was only two months away. One of the gossip sites shared some photos of him sitting outside with some people at a coffee shop. He looked amazing, and I felt tingly when I remembered his perfect face hovering over mine in bed.

I finished my drink and laid down, thinking a nap would be divine. Sometimes an afternoon cup of coffee made me drowsy at first, but hours later I'd have a delayed buzz from the caffeine. As I was setting my phone on top of my journal, it started vibrating, which meant I was getting I call. My heart leapt when I saw it was Shawn.

"Hi."

"Hey, are we okay? Because I feel like we're not," he said quickly, which made me think he was anxious.

"I don't know. You tell me."

"Shit. I'm sorry if I upset you by implying your coffee sucked."

"It did suck, so that did not bother me. The setup you gave me is incredible and I'm probably going to become a coffee addict because of it," I told him. "I finished a big mug of the blonde roast a few minutes ago."

"If that didn't bug you, then why did you dismiss me?"

"I didn't."

"Yeah, you did. The last thing you texted was 'good luck with the rest of your tour' which sounds very dismissive to me. I showed it to a couple of my friends and they agreed that you were saying we wouldn't be talking again and that it was a goodbye. That's why I haven't contacted you; I was waiting to see if this was true."

"You sent me a parting gift," I asserted. "You're the one who dismissed me."

"What are you talking about?"

I explained the thing about the game show and the baseball player. When I was done, he didn't respond. "Shawn? Are you there?"

"I cannot believe you think so little of me that you jumped to that conclusion," he said sadly.

"Your note thanked me for the sex! The gift was clearly in response to our night together! My conclusion was logical!"

"I had an amazing night with you, Lucy. It's the first time sex has had any meaning in awhile, and I wanted to do something nice for you because you made me feel so good."

"Oh," I said softly.

"Why didn't you ask me what the present meant when you got it? You left me on read and then you sent those texts that made me think you never wanted to see me again."

My only way out of this was to be honest. "Briya and Fallon were here when I opened the box and they saw your note. They're the ones who put the parting gift idea in my head, but I swear it's not because they were stirring up shit. It really did look that way! I hadn't heard from you since you left my place that morning, and I began wondering if you'd been bothered by all the times you unsuccessfully tried to get with me, so once you had me, you felt like you'd won."

"Because of my ego."

"Yes."

He let out a long sigh. "I guess I can see the chain of logic that got you to that end point, but I told you I like you and that I wanted to keep seeing you. I apologize for not texting until later, but I wanted our first contact after that night to be the gift."

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

"So am I."

I started to cry because this felt more like things ending than the gift had. We weren't a couple, but this had all the elements of a break-up. "I...um...I need to go," I said between sobs. Then I ended the call.

Seconds later he called back and I couldn't resist answering. He started speaking right away. "Don't cry, honey. You shouldn't feel bad. It was a misunderstanding."

"I'm not good at at all this. I overthink and I jump to conclusions. This is why it's for the best that I never let anyone in, because when I do, I'm stupid."

"You aren't stupid," he said. "Communication problems are super common. Let's just promise each other that if there's any confusion in the future, we'll be up front about it."

Future. That was such a big word for him to be throwing around, and it both thrilled and terrified me. "Are we going to see each other again?" I asked.

"I want to if you do. I know it sucks that we took things to that level in the middle of my tour, but I'll be home a lot once it's done."

"I want to," I said as fresh tears started falling. "I'm sorry I am so emotional, but it's been a really shitty weekend."

"What happened?" Concern rang though his voice.

"Some guy grabbed my ass on a cruise last night and I got pretty upset- which I'm not sorry about- and I slapped him, and ultimately the girls and I quit."

"Fuck," he breathed angrily. "I'm glad you're done there."

"Technically we were let go, but we quit first. It doesn't really matter, I guess. I just can't stop imagining his hand going under my skirt and squeezing my skin. I think the contrast to how you touched me in the same place but in such a different way is what's upsetting me."

"I hate that this happened to you."

"Same. Are you busy right now?" I asked rather pitifully.

"Not really. I'm in a house full of people, but they won't care if I stay in my room," he replied.

"Can we watch a movie?"

"Only if it's got Julia Roberts."