by Jules Court
He gripped the steering wheel with too much force and fought to keep his speed down as he drove 95 back to his apartment after being run out by Elizabeth like her husband had just come home. He was fucking pissed off.
And who was the young girl who’d interrupted them? She looked like a teenager, but he was crap at guessing ages. She could have been sixteen to twenty. Too old to be Elizabeth’s daughter. Although, now that he thought about it, Elizabeth hadn’t told him her age. She’d danced around it. Maybe she was older than he thought. What did he even know about her anyway? Maybe she was married and the girl was her stepdaughter. She certainly didn’t want him talking to her.
He slapped the side of his head in frustration at his stupidity. She was Priya’s friend and Priya had tried to set her up with Danny last year. So, unless she’d had a whirlwind romance and elopement, she was single.
He still deserved some fucking answers, though. He could just call Priya and ask, but he stubbornly wanted them to come from Elizabeth herself. She owed him that much for jerking him around.
* * *
Will was still mad when he woke up the next morning and dragged himself to work. When Brian stopped by the firehouse, Will was outside washing the truck. The sky was celestial blue, it was warm enough that the tourists walking the Freedom Trail who stopped to snap pictures of the old brick Engine 8 Firehouse were in short sleeves, and the Red Sox were currently stomping the Yankees over at Fenway. None of that had done anything to improve his mood. This kind of anger was so unlike everything he knew about himself. It was frightening. And the worst part was he didn’t know who he was so angry at: Elizabeth for tossing him out, or himself for believing she would just fall at his feet.
“Dude, leave some paint on it,” Brian said.
Will didn’t pause in his scrubbing, merely extended one arm with his middle finger out.
“I can see why you’re Mom’s favorite,” Brian said.
“You want something or are you just here to bust my balls?”
“Big brother’s prerogative,” Brian said with a laugh. “Seriously, though, are you okay?”
“Why can’t I be in a bad mood for a change?” He tossed the sponge. “Everything is not always awesome.” A part of him cringed because he was acting like a big baby and because he was quoting a kids’ movie. If anyone asked, though, he’d only watched that movie with his niece because she liked it.
Tony, holding a soapy sponge, popped his head out from around the other side of the truck. “He’s been like this all day. I think it’s his time of the month.”
Will glared at Tony and his big fat mouth before turning to his Brian. “If you laugh, I’m going to punch you.”
Brian held his hands up. “Wouldn’t dream of it. I just swung by because I was in the neighborhood and you’re not answering your phone. How’s the party planning coming? Need us to jump in?”
The party. Another thing he was failing at. He ran a hand over his eyes, suddenly exhausted. “It’s fine. We were thinking about just renting a space instead of doing it at a bar.”
“Who’s we?”
He found himself flushing. “I had someone helping me.”
“Managed to deduce that much because I’m—”
“Don’t say ‘a trained investigator,’” Will said. “Priya’s friend Elizabeth was helping me because Priya was busy.”
Brian arched an eyebrow in that annoying way he did it.
Tony piped up. “He’s into her, but he’s being a pu—”
“You’re not part of this,” Will said.
Tony shrugged. “Just saying, you can be a—”
“Why don’t we go get some coffee?” Brian said, cutting off Tony.
“Can’t. We might get a call.”
“We’ll just go to Café Victoria. It’s not even a block. You can run back here faster than you can slide down that pole.”
“I don’t know, he’s pretty good at riding—”
Before Tony could finish, Will asked Brian, “Can you arrest him?”
“I wish. Let’s go,” Brian said. “Later, Tony.”
It wasn’t until they were seated with coffees in front of them that Brian spoke. “You know I’m practically married to Danny, right?”
Meaning Danny told him everything. “Then why did you act like you didn’t know about Elizabeth?”
“Wanted to see if you’d tell me yourself. Although, Danny didn’t tell me it was that Elizabeth. I’ve never seen you get worked up about anyone before.”
“I’ve had girlfriends.” Although he couldn’t really remember how any of those relationships began or even ended now. Just a gradual drifting together and then apart.
“I’m not just talking about your love life. I’m your brother and I love you, even if you are an idiot and Mom and Dad should have stopped after me.”
That familiar tangle of exasperation and affection for his brother welled up, cutting through some of the sick anger still roiling in his gut. When they were young, Brian had been both his worst enemy and greatest ally. As adults, they were firmly in the ally camp.
“Jerk,” Will said.
“This is the tough love part. You always just cheerfully take what you’re given in life. You never actually try for anything. Which has been all right up until now because things just work out for you.”
“That’s not true. I try. It wasn’t easy to become a firefighter.” He’d worked his ass off, mentally and physically, to make it. And he still worked hard. He hit the gym even when he was exhausted. He’d learned to put fear aside. In the face of fire, every instinct a human possessed screamed run away, but he’d learned everything he could about fire so he knew how to defeat it. And when he couldn’t, how to face it.
He brought himself back to the present where Brian was still giving him a lecture.
“Okay, I’ll give you that,” Brian said. “It might be the one time I’ve ever seen you exert yourself. Everything else is just going along to get along.”
“Like what?” he challenged.
“How about your art?”
He was about to object, but Brian held his hand up. “This is the part where you tell me you’re not a real artist and it’s just a goof, but I know better. Remember when Emily had that friend who worked at that gallery on Newberry Street? She was willing to look at your art, but you couldn’t be bothered to even call her.” Will opened his mouth to protest, but Brian was on a roll and kept going. “And then there’s the women. You just hop from one bed to another and then complain about how you want a relationship.”
“You don’t understand. The women I was hooking up with didn’t want anything else.” Like Elizabeth.
“Did you ask them or did you just assume?”
“They left.” If they’d wanted more, they would have stuck around. Elizabeth wouldn’t have dismissed him from her presence like she’d been caught with the pool boy.
“Did you call afterwards?”
“Well, no, but—”
“No, you didn’t. Because you were glad they left because that meant you didn’t have to try. You could keep on blaming being alone on other people.”
“Then what about Elizabeth?”
“You liked her because she didn’t want a relationship.”
“That’s not true.” The connection had been instantaneous. He’d never felt anything like that before. She must have felt it, too.
“Then prove it. Not to me. To her.” Brian tossed back the rest of the coffee. “Lesson over. I’ve got to go meet Danny.” He shook his head sadly. “What would you people do without my good advice?”
“You’re a real Oprah,” Will said. Brian didn’t know what he was talking about.
But he still sat at the table in Café Victoria nursing his coffee for another twenty minutes after Brian l
eft.
* * *
Elizabeth hit Save on the document she’d created and leaned back to stretch with a satisfied sigh. She’d done it. Three different meticulously researched options for a thirty-fifth wedding anniversary. She’d put together venues, music, catering, and booze options indexed by price and date. It’d taken her the better part of two days on the phone and checking websites. Now all she had to do was get it to Will so he could show it to his family.
Maybe it didn’t make up for kicking him out of her house, but it was something. She hit Print, and thought about how she’d see him again. There was no way he’d want anything to do with her. And she obviously couldn’t trust herself around him. This was a time for a neutral third party. She’d give it to Priya.
It was Wednesday before she shared a shift with Priya and not until the afternoon that she managed to get a break. She tracked Priya down in between patients. “Coffee?” she asked.
“Can you administer it intravenously?” Priya asked. There were bags under her eyes. “I’m on hour twelve of my shift.”
“I can make a fresh pot of sludge in the break room.”
“Sold.”
In the break room, Priya flopped down on the couch while Elizabeth grabbed the coffee and measured out grounds. “Don’t let me fall asleep,” Priya said. “I might not wake back up.”
“No sleep last night?”
“Brian’s been working a lot of hours, too. We finally got to catch up last night. I’ll leave it at that.”
Elizabeth leaned her hip against the counter and sang a few bars of mock porno music until a cushion sailed over the back of the couch toward her. She laughed and picked up the cushion.
“So what’s the deal with Will?” Priya asked, sitting up and peering at Elizabeth over the back of the couch.
“You knew?”
“Brian’s family is tight. They actually talk to each other and keep all their dysfunction right out there in the open. It’s refreshing.”
“How’s your family? Things getting any better there?”
“Slowly. I had lunch with my mother last week. Thanks for asking, even though you’re doing it to change the subject.”
“I was going to tell you that I went with him that day you couldn’t. No big deal.” Elizabeth pulled the folded paper from the pocket of her scrubs. “I wanted to give you this. It’s a list of party details that I researched.”
“Isn’t that something you should give to Will?”
“Can’t you just do it?” She pulled two mugs down from the cabinet and splashed freshly brewed coffee in them.
Priya patted the couch cushion. “Come sit down and bring the coffee.”
Elizabeth handed one of the coffee cups over and settled down on the ratty sofa. “The Chief Resident’s being a dick today, right? Like how he yelled at the new nurse. That wasn’t cool. She’s like a baby deer—all wide eyed and scared.”
Priya, who normally loved to talk smack about the Chief Resident, wasn’t biting. “Why don’t you want to go out with Will? He’s awesome.”
“It’s not that I don’t like him.” That was an understatement. She liked everything about him. His laugh, the way the corners of his eyes crinkled when he teased her, how just being around him made the world seem brighter. The way he kissed, how his skin felt under her hands...
“I don’t get it. Ever since I’ve known you, it’s been—” Priya’s voice took on a singsong cadence “‘—when Megan leaves I’m going to date sooooo many guys, I’m going to stop living like a nun, I can’t wait to get laid again.’”
“Stop,” Elizabeth said, laughing despite herself. “I wasn’t that bad.”
“You were all talk, girl. Tell me about all the exciting times you’ve had lately.”
Elizabeth took a sip of her coffee to avoid answering, because all her fun times had involved Will.
“If you’re not into Will, that’s one thing,” Priya said with an airy wave of her hand. “No one’s going to hate you. Not even Will, as long as you’re honest with him. Will’s a good guy and he’ll get over it.” She put a hand on Elizabeth’s forearm. “Just do me a favor. Consider whether it might be fear holding you back. I speak from experience. Going through life too afraid to take a chance is no way to live. I know losing your parents and becoming Megan’s guardian at twenty-one must have been tough. I wonder how much of that is influencing you now.”
Elizabeth blinked and summoned a cheery smile. “I should probably get back to work.” She stood up and pulled the paper from her pocket, holding it out to Priya. “Please just take this and give it to Will for me.”
Priya shook her head sadly and said, “I really think you should give it to him yourself.”
It wasn’t fair to put Priya in the middle of this, she told herself. Not that there was anything to get in the middle of. She was probably making a big deal out of nothing. “That’s okay,” she said. She dashed out of the break room before she lost her smile.
Chapter Nine
Elizabeth came home to an empty house. Unable to sit still, she ran the dishwasher, scrubbed the kitchen floor, and gathered her laundry together. She put a load of towels in the washer and reflexively checked the dryer only to discover it was full. And they weren’t her clothes.
She’d hustled Will out of her house so fast the other night that he’d left his clothes behind. She began pulling them out. A jumbled mix of T-shirts, jeans, socks, and underwear. Apparently, he wore boxer briefs, and he probably looked unbelievable in them. He obviously also didn’t believe in sorting his wash. You didn’t put your white T-shirts in with dark colors unless you were begging for dingy whites.
She should bring these to him. It was probably the least she could do. Maybe she could just swing by his place and drop them off. It would give her a chance to apologize. Who knows, maybe they could wind up as friends. He’d probably met a dozen new women by now. It wasn’t like he’d be pining over her.
She unclenched her fingers from his boxers. She just needed to quit fantasizing about ripping these off him.
She picked up her phone and made a call before she could think too hard about it. Will’s voice sounded sleepy when he picked up. She didn’t bother with pleasantries. “Are you home?”
“Yeah, why?”
“What’s your address?”
He sounded confused, but he rattled off a location in the North End. He only lived a block away from Priya, so she knew the neighborhood well. Not that Priya actually lived in her apartment anymore. She spent her nights at Brian’s but somehow thought that if she kept paying rent that meant she could truthfully tell her family that she wasn’t living with her boyfriend.
Elizabeth eyeballed the clock on the wall. Nine o’clock on a Wednesday night. Traffic should be light. “I’ll be there in thirty,” she said, and hung up before he could object.
She kept the radio on and her brain off on the ride over. If she thought too much, she’d chicken out and run home. She owed Will more than a texted apology. He deserved one face to face and he also deserved his clothes back. As much as she longed to see him naked, she’d prefer it be by his choice.
She had to circle the block twice before she found an empty spot. When she saw the little hatchback pulling away from the curb, she sped up to make sure no one snaked her claim before she could get there. She heaved the duffel bag with his clothes out of her back seat and walked down the street to his apartment building on shaky legs.
The unlocking of the entry door sounded almost before she took her finger off the buzzer. Will lived on the second floor and her pulse beat rapidly as she ascended the stairs. When she knocked on his door, he answered silently, simply moving back and allowing her to step inside. He wasn’t smiling.
Her first impression was color. The walls were suffused with color. Everywhere her eyes turned was
art—abstract, natural, styles she knew nothing about.
“Is it all yours?” she asked.
“Just stuff I like. Some of it I did. What are you doing here?”
She dropped the bag at his feet. “You forgot your laundry.”
“Is that it?” His words were clipped.
“No. I also brought you this.” She fished out the list she’d tried to give Priya earlier. “I’ve already made the calls. All you have to do is decide which option you like and book the vendors.” She took a step toward him and held the paper out.
“Thank you,” he said, taking it from her.
She fisted the front of his T-shirt and dragged him forward. “There’s also this.” She kissed him without needing to go up on her toes or pull his head down to hers, making her height useful for something other reaching the top shelf.
It was like she’d lit a match. He pulled her close, molding their bodies together, their height match creating a perfect fit. There was nothing light or teasing about the kiss he returned. It was pure fire. His tongue slipped into her mouth, and she met it greedily with her own. Her hands rose to tangle in his short hair. She was a being of pure desire, burning from the inside. She’d never wanted anything more than to have him inside her immediately.
He lightly pushed her away and stepped back, running a hand over his face. “Hold up.” His voice was rough.
“I don’t want to hold up.” She watched his chest move up and down as he brought his breathing under control.
His green eyes pinned her. “You owe me some answers.”
He was right. She sat down heavily on his ugly plaid sofa, trying to think of what to say. She didn’t want to talk but she didn’t want to leave. She just wanted to be near him even if his clothes were still on and that was a scary as hell thought.
“You want a drink?” he asked. “Because I sure as hell need one.”
“God, yes.”
His tiny kitchen was open to the living room, separated only by a breakfast bar with a couple of ratty-looking stools. She watched him open the refrigerator and rummage about inside. He emerged triumphantly holding up two bottles of beer. “Ha! I knew there something other than old pizza boxes in here.” He twisted the caps off, walked over to her, and held a beer out.