by Grace James
Half an hour later he was gone and I was still sitting on his couch, watching some crappy made-for-TV-movie.
61
Connor didn’t have any drapes in his apartment.
I had added them to the long list of stuff that he needed to buy while I was puttering around, alone, in his apartment the night before.
So, the sunlight woke me early the next morning; it bathed almost the whole apartment. Even though there was only one window, it was big and the apartment was small, so there wasn’t anywhere to hide from the solar glare.
I sat up in bed and rubbed my eyes free of sleep, yawning into my palms. I had gotten tired and gone to bed before Connor came home the night before and as I stretched, I looked at the bed next to me, expecting to see him sprawled out, asleep and heading towards a monster hangover.
But he wasn’t there.
“Connor?” I called, glancing around the empty space. When I didn’t see him, I figured there was only one other place he could be. I padded across to the bathroom and peeked inside, half expecting him to be passed out next to the toilet.
But – no Connor.
I walked back out into the main room and looked around dumbly.
The realization that he hadn’t come home the night before set my heart hammering in my chest. I grabbed for my phone, expecting a text or a missed call, something to show me that he at least tried to explain.
Nothing.
This feels familiar.
My mind wandered back to our first night together; him leaving the motel and not coming back. Then I thought about the night he stood me up; how days later I’d gone to him, only to face his drug-fuelled anger. All the times he’d just seemed to drop out of my life for a few days…
Where is he?
Then another thought snaked its way into my brain.
What if he’s with someone else?
The question of his fidelity had never seriously crossed my mind before. Oh, I knew, I had seen, that he flirted with groupies, but I had never actually thought that he would do anything.
Standing alone in the quiet of his apartment, my guts clenched as I really considered it…was it really such a stretch that he would do something? Especially if I wasn’t there? And especially if we hadn’t been getting along so great recently?
I stomped into the bathroom, splashed some cold water on my face and swilled my mouth out with some mouthwash I found in Connor’s duffel bag; then I dressed quickly, pulling my clothes on roughly.
Whatever his reason for not coming home, I wanted to be out of there by the time he eventually did show up – because not coming home was one thing, but not even dropping me a single lousy text message to explain was inexcusable.
When the apartment intercom buzzed, I almost jumped out of my skin. I ran the few feet across the room and pressed the button. “Connor?!” I practically shouted. “I’m buzzing you in.”
I released the button and stepped back, my mind whirring; If he lost his keys…then why didn’t he call?
A few minutes later there was a knock at the door. I flung it open, expecting to see Connor standing there looking worse for wear, with a contrite look on his face.
But it wasn’t Connor.
It was Blake.
Disappointment and exhilaration surged through me in equal measure – and I wanted to SLAP myself so hard.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, completely confused.
“Giving Con a ride to work, like I do every morning.” His deep voice held a note of amusement.
I blinked and took in his clothes. Scruffy and old, a little ragged here and there, heavy work boots that had seen much better days. The V neck of his t-shirt revealed a little of the ink on his chest and, despite my anxiety over Connor, my eyes were drawn to it like a bee to honey.
Catching myself, I snapped my eyes back to his face. “Well...that’s probably going to be a problem.” I turned and walked back into the apartment. I heard the heavy tread of his boots on the wooden floor behind me. “He’s not here,” I said quietly.
“You make him run out to get you your morning latte, Princess?”
I shook my head and bit my lip. This was mortifying. I was going to have to admit to Blake that I had no idea where Connor was.
“It’s okay, I can wait a few minutes. We can’t have you going without your morning coffee, can we?”
He’s making fun of me now, wait ‘til he hears the truth, I thought wryly.
I forced myself to turn and face him. Something in my expression must have shown my distress, because his look of amusement slipped and he stepped closer. “Hey, you okay?” His voice had dropped, it was softer.
I took the plunge. “I don’t know where he is. He went out last night and he didn’t come home.” I held my breath, waiting for him to burst into laughter or make a stupid joke.
But he did neither of those things.
Instead, he took another step towards me, his frown deepening. “Where did he go?”
“Out with Matt and Luke. To Filthy’s.”
He let out a sigh and tilted his head back. “Dumb fuck,” he murmured.
“You think he’s okay?” I asked quietly.
He chuckled disdainfully. “He’ll be fine. Don’t worry about him. He can take care of himself.” He looked back at me. “Did you call him?”
“Not yet.”
He dug his phone out of his pocket and tapped at it, before putting it to his ear. He turned away from me and started pacing slowly back and forth across the apartment. “Fucking voicemail,” he muttered. “Hey, Con, it’s me. I’m at your place now – and guess what? No fucking you. If you don’t get your ass on site today, Barry’s gonna blow a fucking gasket after all the time we’ve missed. Fair warning, buddy.” He stopped pacing with his back to me and lowered his voice. “And call your damn girlfriend.” Then he hung up and turned back to me, anger igniting his eyes. “You waited here all night for him?” he demanded.
I stared at him, biting my lip. “Yeah...he asked me to stay over –”
“Then he went out?!”
I felt my cheeks heating. Hearing him say it out loud made me feel stupid. He made me feel stupid...and mixed up. And that made me mad. “I thought we covered that?” I snapped. “Yes, he asked me to stay over then went out drinking with his buddies and no he didn’t come home and he didn’t call and here I am standing here like a...a...fucking idiot! Again!” I swiped angrily at the tear that had escaped to my cheek.
Blake’s eyebrows rose at my outburst – I knew why, I hardly ever dropped the F bomb – then swept down into a hard scowl when he caught sight of my tears. I started to turn away from him but before I could, he’d crossed the room in a couple of long strides and reached out, encasing my upper arm in his rough hand.
The touch of his skin on mine sent a bolt of energy through me, shocking me to my core. My sharp inhale of breath pulled his scent into my nose. Musk and spice and a hint of deodorant. My knees almost buckled as the shock in my core ignited into something else.
Something that was so wrong.
I scrunched my eyes shut, trying to get a hold of myself.
“Look at me.” His voice was deep and calm, soothing even. I opened my eyes and found that I was staring at his chest. He was so much taller that I had to tip my head right back to see his face.
Then I almost wished I hadn’t.
His incredible blue eyes were shimmering like a glacier in the sunlight. He bent his head towards mine and for a fraction of a second I thought he was going to kiss me.
Fear and longing raged inside me.
“You are not a fucking idiot.” He said sternly. “Con’s my cousin, and I look out for him before anyone else, but in this situation, he is the fucking idiot, not you.” He paused and took a deep breath. “You want me to go find him?”
I blinked and my mouth dropped open a little. “Do you think he’s in trouble?”
He sighed. “Honestly? No.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“I just am.”
“How though, Blake? Doesn’t even a small part of you think that he could be hurt or…something?” I was grasping at straws, I knew it, and Blake sounded so sure…then something dawned on me. “He’s done this before...hasn’t he?” I breathed.
“Just go home. Wait for him to call –”
“Hasn’t he?!” The blood was pounding in my temples.
“Fuck.” Blake released my arm and stepped back. “You need to talk to him about this, not me.”
“Just answer the question, Blake!” I practically shouted at him. “Has he done this before?! You should know, he’s been staying at your place for months!”
“I don’t know what he does!” he growled angrily. “I’m not his goddamn keeper! I don’t keep tabs on him all the fucking time. Sometimes he goes out and he doesn’t come back, how the fuck should I know if he’s with you or with his buddies or anywhere else?”
Both of my hands were over my mouth as I gaped at him in shock. He was breathing heavily, his hands balled into fists at his sides. We stared at each other for a moment before he blurred into a watery silhouette and I realized that I was crying.
“Aw shit, Princess.” Blake’s voice had softened again. “Don’t cry. Please.” His hands touched my shoulders gently and I hung my head as embarrassment and hurt swallowed me whole.
Then I felt Blake’s powerful arms envelop me as he held me against his chest. Desire swelled inside me at the feel of his massive, hard body against mine and at his incredible scent surrounding me…but it was offset by my anguish over Connor.
It was weird to feel so humiliated and so turned on all at once – until that moment I wouldn’t have believed it was possible. Again: Messed. Up.
When Blake spoke I felt, as well as heard, the rumble of his words in his chest. “Don’t cry. You know what he’s like, he probably just got wasted and crashed at one of those dumb shit’s houses. He’ll call you later and explain everything.”
“Why are you lying to me?” I sniffled.
“Not lying, Princess. You guys’ll make this up, you always do. I was serious before, if you want me to go find him, I will.” His steady heartbeat was soothing against my ear.
“Why?” I breathed. “What’s the point?”
“Because it fucking kills me when you cry.” His soft words seemed to hang in the air for a moment, and I felt his muscles tighten around me, then he slowly slackened his hold on me and stepped back.
I saw the wet marks on the front of his shirt from my tears.
Because it fucking kills me when you cry.
Those words were reverberating inside my brain, resonating through my body. I had no idea what to do with them. I couldn’t meet his eyes; I kept staring at the watermark on his chest.
“Don’t be here when he gets back,” Blake said gruffly. “Wait for him to call you, okay?”
I nodded dumbly.
“Good. Get your shit, I’ll walk you down to your car.” He turned abruptly and walked out of the apartment. “You coming, Princess?” His voice echoed from the hallway.
“Um, yeah.” I grabbed my purse, shoved on my boots and followed him out, slamming the door behind me.
62
Blake and I walked downstairs in silence. I couldn’t get his words out of my head.
Because it fucking kills me when you cry.
If he meant to distract me from my Connor-crisis, he had achieved his goal beautifully.
“I can hear your brain working from over here, Princess.” Blake smirked as he held the door open for me. I passed him quickly, making sure not to breathe in. I couldn’t deal with another dose of his masculine scent right then.
“What do you expect?” I murmured as we started down the street to where I had parked my car the day before.
“This about me or him?” Blake asked.
His bluntness caught me completely off guard. “You?!” I spluttered. “Why would it be about you?!”
He smiled easily as we stopped next to my car. “You know why.”
“No! I really don’t!” I knew I was stupid to deny it – but the alternative was to acknowledge a whole host of uncomfortable and wrong feelings that I did not plan to ever acknowledge, so...denial it was.
“Sure you do. You’re just uncomfortable as shit.” His smile faded a little. “We’re friends, right?”
I smiled tightly. “Apparently so. Against both our better judgments.”
“Okay, then I’m going to be straight with you. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. I told you I never had a girl friend before – that’s a friend who’s a girl by the way…” He pointed a finger at me and narrowed his eyes.
“Got it,” I grinned despite myself.
“Good. Don’t want you getting ideas.” He smirked.
I held my hands up, palms facing him. “No ideas, promise.”
It was a lie – but I desperately wanted it to be the truth.
He nodded, his smirk fading. “Yeah…so what I’m saying is that I have no fucking idea how to be friends with a girl, but I want us to be friends, so you gotta tell me if I do something…fucked up, okay?”
His words were reassuring. Maybe I had just read him all wrong before, maybe I was just reading into his actions and words because I was attracted to him. It made me cringe to admit that, even just to myself, but it was the truth.
I nodded. “Okay.”
“So we have a deal? I fuck up – you call me on it?” Blake asked.
“Deal.” I forced a smile.
“Perfect.” He looked at the ground for a second before his eyes met mine again. “Are you gonna be okay?”
“Well, I’m pissed off, but I’ll be fine.” A lie because there was still hurt there too – and ‘pissed off’ was an understatement of epic proportions.
“Good. Make him work for it.” Blake winked and started to walk backwards slowly. “See you later, Princess.”
63
The brightly lit mall buzzed around me as I walked with Mel through the chaos. “Why are we here again?” I grumbled, sidestepping a gaggle of excitable pre-teens who were all munching on pretzels and slurping on slushies. I wanted a pretzel and a slushie – and for my biggest problem to be finding the perfect nail color to match my ball cap.
“Retail therapy,” Mel said, nudging me towards one of the stores. “Cute dresses, look.” She pointed at the window display where the mannequins were draped in brightly colored mini dresses in every color. “That blue one would look good on you.”
We browsed the store, loading our arms up with clothes to try on. I didn’t really feel like shopping but Mel had insisted and I knew better than to fight against her when it came to a mall visit. She loved fashion the way that a dog loves a bone – shamelessly and completely.
“See, I told you this would be fun.” She smiled as we walked into the fitting rooms. I hung my clothes on the hooks inside the cubicle and pulled my purse from my shoulder, as I did so I heard the chime of my cell phone inside it.
“I heard that,” Mel called from the cubicle next to me. “I hope you’re still ignoring him.”
“Who says that’s even him?” I called back as I pulled the phone out.
“Oh please, I’m not an idiot.”
I looked at the phone and saw that I had a missed call and two texts from Connor. He’d been calling and texting since not long after I left his apartment the day before – but I hadn’t replied or answered his calls, although it had taken all my willpower to ignore him.
I opened the message. The first one had been sent about an hour before: The least you can do is let me explain. The next one had come through just after a call that I hadn’t answered: Seriously? Call me back. This is stupid.
I snorted and shoved the phone back into my purse.
“What did he say now?” Mel called.
“Nothing. Forget it.”
“I hope you’re trying stuff on in there and not just moping about Dickwad.”
“Yeah, I am
.” I started to change hurriedly into the blue dress that Mel had picked out for me. “And don’t call him Dickwad.”
“If the shoe fits...” Mel muttered.
“I heard that!”
“You were meant to!” I heard the curtain of Mel’s cubicle being drawn back. “Are you dressed yet? Come out and let me see.”
I swept my curtain back and stepped out. Mel was wearing a bottle green, knee length bodycon dress. “That dress is amazing, you look great!” I enthused.
“You like it?”
“Absolutely, you should get it.”
“I’ll get this if you get that.” She grinned, pointing to the deep royal blue dress that I had tried on. It was tight on the top, cinched at the waist and then flared over the hips. It was also incredibly short.
“It’s a little revealing.”
“Shut up, Amy, you have amazing legs. I would kill for legs that long. That is totally the dress that you should dump Connor in.”
“Mel! What the hell?!”
“Dump him while you’re wearing that and you’ll ruin him!” She clapped her hands and chuckled sadistically.
“Oh my God, I can’t believe you just said that!” I put my hands on my hips. I didn’t know whether to laugh at her or yell at her. “I’m not going to break up with Connor.”
“You do know that you should break up with him though, right?”
“Are you kidding me right now?” I stared at her in disbelief. Mel had made underhand comments about Connor in the past but this was the first time that she had outright told me that she didn’t think we should be together. “How can you tell me to break up with him?!”
“I’m not telling you to break up with him.”
“Um, yes, you are!”
“Okay.” She blew out a breath. “I just don’t see how you can keep brushing all his bullshit under the carpet and pretend like everything is fine when it’s so obviously not.”
“I’m not pretending! I don’t need to pretend –”
“Look,” she cut me off. “Just forget that I said anything, okay? You’re obviously not ready to hear it.” She walked back into her fitting room and took hold of the curtain, ready to close it.