Part 26 (2/2)

”I'm seeing you home.” He slid in after me and I scurried across the seat in surprise.

”You don't need-”

”I do. Okay. I do need to do that much, so just ...”

”Alright.”

”Where to?” The cab driver asked, giving us an uninterested look in the rearview mirror. Another feuding couple in his back seat. I'm sure he saw at least a dozen a night.

David rattled off my address without blinking. The taxi pulled out into the flow of traffic. He could have gotten my address from Sam, and as for the rest ...

”Lauren,” I sighed, sinking back against the seat. ”Of course, that's how you knew where to find me.”

He winced. ”I talked to Lauren earlier. Listen, don't be mad at her. She took a lot of convincing.”

”Right.”

”I'm serious. She ripped me a new one for messing things up with you, yelled at me for half an hour. Please don't be mad at her.”

I gritted my teeth and stared out the window. Until his fingers slid over mine. I s.n.a.t.c.hed back my hand.

”You'll let me inside you but you won't let me hold your hand?” he whispered, his face sad in the dim glow of the pa.s.sing cars and streetlights.

It was on the tip of my mouth to say that it had been an accident. That what had happened between us was wrong. But I couldn't do it. I knew how much it would hurt him. We stared at each other as my mouth hung open, my brain useless.

”I missed you so f.u.c.king much,” he said. ”You have no idea.”

”Stop.”

His lips shut but he didn't look away. I sat there caught by his gaze. He looked so different with his long hair gone, with the short beard. Familiar but unknown. It wasn't a long trip home though it seemed to take forever. The cab stopped outside the old block of flats and the driver gave us an impatient look over his shoulder.

I pushed open the car door, ready to be gone but hesitating just the same. My foot hovered in thin air above the curb. ”I honestly didn't think I'd ever see you again.”

”Hey,” he said, his arm stretching out across the back of the seat. His fingers reached toward me but fell short of making contact. ”You're going to see me again. Tomorrow.”

I didn't know what to say.

”Tomorrow,” he repeated, voice determined.

”I don't know if it'll make any difference.”

He lifted his chin, inhaling sharply. ”I know I f.u.c.ked us up, but I'm going to fix it. Just don't make up your mind yet, alright? Give me that much.”

I gave him a brief nod and hurried inside on unsteady legs. Once I'd locked myself inside, the cab pulled away, its tail lights fading to black through the frosted gla.s.s of the downstairs door.

What the h.e.l.l was I supposed to do now?

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

I was running late for work. Rus.h.i.+ng about like a mad thing trying to get ready. I ran into the bathroom, jumped in the shower. Gave my face a good scrub to get rid of the remnants of last night's make-up. Gruesome, crusty stuff. It would serve me right if I got the pimple from h.e.l.l. Last night had all been some bizarre dream. But this was real life. Work and school and friends. My plans for the future. Those were the things that were important. And if I just kept telling myself that, everything would be fine and dandy someday.

Ruby didn't much mind what we wore at work beyond the official cafe T-s.h.i.+rt. Her roots were strongly alternative. She'd planned to be a poet but wound up inheriting her aunt's coffee shop in the Pearl district. Urban development had upped property prices and Ruby became quite the well-to-do businesswoman. Now she wrote her poetry on the walls in the cafe. I don't think you could find a better boss. But late was still late. Not good.

I'd stayed up worrying about what had happened with David in that alleyway. Reliving the moment where he told me he considered us still married. Sleep would have been far more beneficial. Pity my brain wouldn't switch off.

I pulled on a black pencil skirt, the official cafe T-s.h.i.+rt and a pair of flats. Done. Nothing was going to help the bruises beneath my eyes. People had pretty much gotten used to them on me lately. It took about half a stick of concealer to cover the bruise on my neck.

I roared out of the bathroom in a cloud of steam, just in time to see Lauren waltz out of the kitchen, broad smile on her face. ”You're late for work.”

”That I am.”

I looped my handbag over my shoulder, grabbed my keys off the table and got going. There wasn't time for this. Not now. Quite possibly not ever. I couldn't imagine her ever having a good enough reason for siding with David. Over the last month she'd spent many nights by my side, letting me talk myself hoa.r.s.e about him when I needed to. Because eventually, it all had to come out. Daily I told her that I didn't deserve her, and she'd smack a kiss on my cheek. Why betray me now? I thumped down the stairs with extra oomph.

”Ev, wait.” Lauren ran after me as I stormed down the front steps.

I turned on her, house keys held before me like a weapon. ”You told him where I was.”

”What was I supposed to do?”

”Oh, I don't know. Not tell him? You knew I didn't want to see him.” I looked her over, noticing all sorts of things I didn't want to. ”Full hair and make-up at this hour? Really, Lauren? Were you expecting him to be here, perhaps?”

Her chin dipped as she had the good grace to look embarra.s.sed at last. ”I'm sorry. You're right, I got carried away. But he's here to make amends. I thought you might at least want to hear what he has to say.”

I shook my head, fury bubbling away inside me. ”Not your call.”

”You've been miserable. What was I supposed to do?” She threw her arms sky high. ”He said that he'd come to make things right with you. I believe him.”

”Of course you do. He's David Ferris, your very own teen idol.”

”No. If he wasn't here to kiss your feet I'd have killed him. No matter who he is, he hurt you.” She seemed sincere, her mouth pinched and eyes huge. ”I'm sorry about dressing up this morning. It won't happen again.”

”You look great. But you're wasting your time. He's not going to be here. That isn't going to happen.”

”No? So, who gave you that monster on your neck?”

I didn't even need to answer that. d.a.m.n it. The sun beat down overhead, warming up the day.

”If there's a chance you think he might be the one,” she said, making my stomach twist. ”If you think you two can sort this out somehow ... He's the only one that ever got to you. The way you talk about him ...”

”We were only together a few days.”

”You really think that matters?”

”Yes. No. I don't know,” I flailed. It wasn't pretty. ”We never made sense, Lauren. Not from day one.”

<script>