《Honeymoon Rivals》33| Story
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After having one of the worst lunches I've had with Josh, we started walking back to the hotel. I had no idea what happened between us getting there to the end of our little airboat ride, but Josh was acting off.
He was hardly talking to me, whatever he was saying, he spoke in short and blunt sentences, whenever I asked him something, he answered vaguely, and he was hardly looking at me. It all started pissing me off by the time we finished eating lunch.
The few lunches I had with him at The Locket when we still hated each other back in New York were better than this. At least we both were bickering but it was still a conversation. Barely, but it was. And now? He wouldn't even look me in my eyes. He wasn't holding my hand back either and every time I held his arm, he was slowly pulling it away, trying to make sure I wouldn't notice that's what he was aiming for.
I sighed in frustration as we waited for the elevator in our hotel lobby to go up to our room. The elevator opened as a couple stepped out and I moved to the side, making space before I got in myself, not looking at Josh just how he was being with me. Two could play at this game.
We stood in silence as we ascended up to our floor, neither one of us uttering a single word. I rolled my eyes, facing away from him, and then took my hair off, patting my hair down. Leaning against the wall, I folded my arms across my chest, my foot impatiently tapping on the floor.
"Can you not do that?" he asked, glancing at my foot. "Please?"
Oh, so we're finally talking? Scratch that. Oh, so we're finally looking at each other?
I held his gaze and maintained eye contact as I tapped my foot on the floor even harder and louder than before.
He sighed, "Poppy."
I ignored him and faced forward, watching the elevator counter.
Why are we moving so fucking slowly all of a sudden?
"Poppy," he repeated and I continued giving him the silent treatment. He did it to me first. All of a sudden, he huffed and leaned forward, holding down the 'stop' button.
I stopped tapping my foot. "Josh, we could get in trouble for that," I clicked my tongue, leaning forward to press it again so we'd continue moving but he grabbed my wrist, pulling my hand away as he faced me, turned me to look at him, and slowly walked forward, backing me up against the wall. My back hit the wall with the softest sound and I tipped my head back, meeting his eyes. "What?"
"What are you doing?" he asked, calm as always.
"I'm doing what you're doing."
"Which is what exactly?"
"Giving you the silent treatment for no apparent reason."
"That's not what I'm doing."
"It totally is and you know it. I don't know what happened but you clearly won't tell me. You were fine until we got off that stupid boat, I don't know what's going through your mind but you're more or less ignoring me."
"I'm not ignoring you," he argued.
"Fine. You're just not talking to me properly. Or telling me what's wrong. You're hardly looking at me. I don't know about you, but it doesn't feel good to be treated like that by someone you have feelings for. That too, when you think you haven't done anything wrong and everything's great. You're..." I hesitated but then decided I should do what he isn't doing and that is, to be honest. "You're making me doubt myself. Did I do something wrong? Are you angry at me? Did I upset you?"
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"What? No. No, Poppy, you didn't do anything."
"Then why aren't you talking to me? If you want space, just say that and I'll give it to you. But you've got to tell me, I can't read your mind."
"I don't want space, I just... need a break."
"From me?"
"No," he groaned. "From everything else."
"From me." It wasn't a question this time.
"No, Poppy, not from you. I don't need a break from you. When I need a break, all I need is you."
I stared at him, feeling my anger dissipate slowly. "What's wrong then?"
"I'm just sick and tired of doubting myself."
"About what?"
"About whether I can do this. Be in a relationship, be with you without screwing it up."
"You're not going to screw it up."
"You don't know that."
"Well, you don't know that you will either," I reasoned.
He shook his head softly. "I can't help but feel like I'm not good enough for you."
"Josh, if anything you're too good for me."
"No, Poppy, it's the opposite. You're too good for me, I don't feel like I deserve you and I don't feel like I'm enough for you."
"Did I make you feel that way or are you doubting yourself?"
"I'm doubting myself. You make me feel like I have the world right before me." He thought for a moment before continuing. "I've never felt good enough for anybody, let alone you. You deserve more."
"I'm getting everything I deserve. In fact, you're so much more than that."
"Poppy, listen to me—"
"No, you listen, Josh. I know how you felt about yourself in the past, how your parents made you feel, you told me. But Josh, you're so much more than what they want you to believe. You're amazing and you're everything I could ever ask for. You take care of me, you support me, you're there for me, you're always there for me. What more does a person need? You're... right for me. You're good enough, Josh."
"Am I? Really?" he asked, scoffing softly.
"You are. And not just for me, you're good enough as a person, all on your own. Look at how far you've come independently. You've accomplished so much. You have a fantastic, well-paying, stable job. You have a place of your own that people dream of living in. You have a family, you have Jenny and Blake and Colton."
He rolled his eyes. "They're not my family."
"They are, no matter how much you pretend otherwise. You're the best uncle for Blake. You're a great guy. I don't know and I don't care about what your parents say or think, I'm proud of you."
He held my gaze.
"I'm proud of you and Jenny's proud of you. We're all proud of you, Josh. You should give yourself a lot more credit than you do because not everybody can do what you did. Not everyone can pack up and move and leave their family behind because they know they deserve better. Not all people have that kind of courage. I respect you a lot for that. So, you should remind yourself that no matter anybody else or even you tell yourself, you're enough, more than enough. For anybody who matters."
His eyes drifted down to my lips and he swallowed, his Adam's apple shifting as he leaned in closer to me, his hands coming onto the wall behind me. "You're amazing," he said softly.
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"Well... that, I know," I chuckled.
He cracked a smile before leaning down and placing a soft kiss on my lips. He pulled away too soon for my liking, laughing as he pressed the 'stop' button again and got the elevator moving. "We have all day in our room, don't you worry," he smirked.
"Don't you worry," I mocked, rolling my eyes.
»»———— ➴ ————««
For dinner that night, we agreed to go to Frenchmen street. We'd be in that area tomorrow night as well but tomorrow we planned to go to a bar or a club to have some fun. It wouldn't just be Josh and me tomorrow, Jamie and Valerie would join us, just how they were coming with us tonight. It annoyed me a bit that I couldn't have another romantic dinner with Josh alone but to be fair, this is still a work trip, so I can't be too mad about it.
In the afternoon, we both ended up taking naps and Josh woke up after me, so for once, I'm dressed and ready first. I had on a warm almost cream-colored white full-sleeves, long, and bodycon dress. It wasn't formal nor was it casual, somewhere between the two, and the material was comfortable in the way it hugged my body. It had a modest v-neck and I felt good in it with my hair back in a low bun with a pair of matching heels.
When Josh came out of the bathroom, still buttoning up his shirt, I couldn't take my eyes off of him. Tonight, he had on black pants, per usual, but instead of white, he wore a black button-up. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and the first two buttons were left undone. He looked unimaginably attractive, I wanted nothing but to stay in the hotel with him all night.
Suddenly, I have very different plans for tonight in my head.
"Poppy."
I stood up from where I lay, snapping out of my daze.
"What?" he chuckled, pocketing his wallet and phone.
I sighed softly to myself but I knew he heard it from the smile that tugged at his lips. "You look so handsome," I mumbled. He grinned, a faint shade of pink coating his cheek. "And cute when you blush," I teased.
He laughed, nodding, "All right. Let's go."
We left together, meeting Jamieson and Valerie in the lobby and walking together to dinner from there.
Dinner was surprisingly good. Jamieson would try his best to interrupt Valerie when she talked too much but I noticed the difference in the way she spoke to Josh. Maybe it was just me, but earlier it was painfully obvious that she wanted Josh's attention and she tried extremely hard for it, but she simmered down a bit tonight. She was only talking about work but by the end of dinner, she'd had too much champagne and was tipsy, so Jamie took her to the hotel, leaving us alone.
On our way back to the hotel, we stopped at a small café to sit alone and while we were there, a group of street performers stopped, setting their guitar cases down. There were two boys and a girl who had a microphone in her hands. I glanced at the table where Josh played with my fingers absentmindedly while looking around while the band started playing.
It was so natural for people here to perform wherever they wanted. Talent poured out of the streets of New Orleans and flowed like a river. The city was full of performers and life and I adored it.
As the songs changed from faster to slower, romantic songs, people passing by not only dropped money in the guitar cases but stopped and began dancing with them.
I turned to Josh and watched him watch the street, keeping his arms on the table.
His fingers were drumming to the beats playing while people danced on the street, his foot was tapping on the floor. It was so obvious he wanted to dance but it was even more obvious that he wouldn't. He blinked, turning to face me instead. "What?" he asked, holding my gaze.
"You hide in a room," I stated, the first thought just pouring out of my mouth.
"Do I?" He lifted a brow at me sharply.
I nodded. "You try to. You're sitting out here when you could probably be talking and dancing with a stranger if you'd like. You draw people in, you know that, right?"
"Maybe," he replied, going back to staring. "But I'd rather not. I'd rather watch."
"Why? You miss out on everything."
He paused and then looked at me again. "If you learn to read the room, you can control the narrative of the story."
I blinked in confusion. "Who told you that?"
"My dad," he answered, looking back at the crowd.
I frowned, not particularly agreeing with that thought. I mean, sure once you learn to read the room, you control the narrative of the story but... "Then what about your story?"
He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye.
I bit back a chuckle, realizing he didn't have an answer to my question. "Do you really think you're only a part of someone else's story? Seriously?" I asked in disbelief.
"I'm not interested in my own story, Poppy. Nobody is."
I paused, smiling at him, holding my chin. "I am." As much as the old me would hate to admit it, Josh had a way of drawing attention to him without even trying. He had a dark allure to him, something magnetic and it wasn't just me who noticed it. We talked about it at the office all the time and I'm almost certain he knew that. "But yes," I said instead, "nobody's ever interested in their own story. That doesn't make it any less relevant." I stood up and that got his attention pretty quick.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm going to dance with everyone else that's here," I chuckled. I stuck a hand out. "Care to join me?"
He leaned back in his chair. "Do I look like someone who dances?"
I nodded, humming. "Alone in your bedroom with a hairbrush in your hand. Or maybe with a spatula before you flip the eggs."
He smiled to himself, his dimple flashing at me.
"It won't kill you to dance with me. I won't step on your toes, come on."
He sighed, shrugging me off. I grabbed his arm, tugging him up and he let me. He didn't have to, he could easily push me away. But he didn't. I held onto his arm until we found a spot with the rest of the crowd and then I forced him to dance.
I pushed him, shook him, spun him around, but the man wouldn't budge. I huffed in annoyance. "I'll find a new dance partner. This one sucks," I said, turning to ask one of the guys sitting at the table behind us. As I turned around, I felt him grab my hand, pulling me back while spinning me around to face him. My hands flew to his chest as I caught myself, my heart skipping a tiny beat as I looked up and met his gaze.
"Just don't say anything, about my horrible dancing skills," he mumbled before spinning me around once and beginning to move with me.
I bit back a smile, watching his face in amusement. "I won't. Don't worry."
.
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.
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