“Yeah. It’s the kind of car boys carve into the desk at school when they’re bored in class. Highly covetable.”
“Yeah, and highly visible. Good luck slipping away unnoticed in a stolen a Ferrari,” he said.
“True. Although some people might think a joy ride was worth it.”
“Keep those kinds of ideas to yourself, Sullivan,” he said, and she laughed as she got into the car.
He headed home and was crossing Victoria Street, heading north, when his phone rang. He hit the button to take the call via the car’s Bluetooth system.
“Hey. What are you up to?” It was Raf, his familiar voice filling the car.
“Just leaving the city,” Eddie said.
“You want to come over for dinner? Raf and I feel like cooking,” Maggie said.
The sound was a little echo-y, and Eddie guessed his brother had his phone on speaker so he and Maggie could both hear the conversation.
He glanced at Blue. Even though he knew it was a long shot, he’d hoped that he might be able to cajole her into having dinner with him.
“I’m going to ask Blue, too. Do you know if she’s doing anything?” Maggie added before he could respond.
“You can ask her yourself,” he said, glancing at Blue.
“Hey, Maggs,” Blue said.
He couldn’t see her expression fully thanks to her sunglasses, but he had the distinct impression she wasn’t thrilled that he’d revealed they were spending the day together.
“Oh, perfect. Two birds, one stone,” Maggie said brightly. “So, what do you guys say? Dinner at seven?”
“I’ve got something else on, sorry,” Blue said. She glanced at him. “But you should go, Eddie.”
He tried not to show how disappointed he was. In his heart, he’d known she was going to say no, for the same reason she would probably have said no if he’d asked her to have dinner with just him — because she’d already stayed the night and spent the day with him, and spending the evening with him as well would be too much like a real relationship.
The kind where being together was about love and liking as well as off-the-charts-good sex. The kind that wasn’t bounded on all sides by a set of dumb-ass fucking rules.
“Are you sure you can’t come?” Maggie cajoled. “We’re making salty-caramel puddings.”
“Wow, that does sound great. But I don’t think I can get out of my other thing,” Blue said.
He stopped at a traffic light, hands white-knuckle tight on the wheel as he listened to her lie.
Why couldn’t she just accept that they were good together? Why couldn’t she trust him, and let him love and care for her the way he wanted to?
“Okay. Do we still get to have you, Eddie?” Maggie asked.
“I’ll be there,” he said.
“Fantastic. We’ll see you at seven, then,” Maggie said.
Maggie ended the call as he accelerated away from the lights.
“That salted caramel pudding sounds pretty good,” Blue said.
“Yeah, it does,” he said flatly.
She slanted a look at him but didn’t say anything.
He stewed for a few minutes before speaking again.
“Do you really have something on? Or was that just an excuse not to go?”
Blue was silent for a long beat. “Does it matter?”
“Yeah. I think it does,” he said.
His street was up ahead and he slowed for the turn.
“There’s no point pretending this is anything other than what it is,” Blue said.
“I agree whole-heartedly.” The words were out his mouth before he could stop them, driven by weeks of frustration and self-editing, fueled by the knowledge that they’d just had a great day that was about to end in yet another retreat from Blue. “In fact, I couldn’t agree more. So maybe we should both stop pretending and sort this out once and for all.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
“What you mean?” Blue said warily, trying to understand how the afternoon could have turned so quickly. One minute they had been happy and relaxed, the next the car was crackling with tension.
Eddie pulled over to the curb, parking behind her sports wagon. He took a moment to gather his thoughts, and nerves twisted in her belly. Finally, he turned to face her.
“I know you probably don’t want to hear this, but I’m sick of waking in an empty bed, Blue. I hate sneaking around at work. I hate that every time I take your hand, I wait for you to pull away. I don’t want to live like this anymore.”
His words seemed very loud in the small space. She stared at him, aware that there were things she needed to say and do now, but not quite able to remember what they were. Which was crazy, because it wasn’t as though she hadn’t known this was coming. From the moment they’d agreed to be lovers she’d known the writing was on the wall.
It was over.
It had been a beautiful, terrifying ride, but it was over. And — honestly — there was a part of her that was almost glad, because at least this way it was done. She’d had all the pleasure, all the happiness, all the joy, and now it had run its course and all that was left was for her to deal with the pain and the hurt.
She knew how to do that. She was good at that.
She could stop waiting for the hammer to fall now and simply deal with the aftermath.
God, it was almost a relief.
“Okay,” she said slowly, nodding. “We always agreed it would be over when it got weird or difficult, right?”
Her voice sounded so normal. So composed.
“I don’t want it to be over. That’s not what I’m saying.”
She stared at him, confused. “Then…what do you want?”
“I want you. That’s all. No rules, no bullshit. Just you and me. Together.”
Suddenly the car was too close, too small. She twisted in her seat, her hands fumbling at the door handle until she got a grip and yanked it open.
“Blue —”
She slammed the door shut, cutting him off, and started walking toward her car, digging in her pocket for her keys.
“Where are you going?” Eddie called after her.
“I should never have stayed the night.”
And she should never have slept with him during the week, or gone with him today, or —
Suddenly he was in front of her, blocking her path.
“You can’t keep running away from this.”
“We had a deal.” Her voice broke on the final word and she tried again. “We had a deal. You agreed. Our friendship is more important than sex.”
“This isn’t about sex. This is about the fact that I love you and I want to be with you.”
“This is exactly why I wanted the rules,” she said, her voice sharp with panic now. “For exactly this reason.”
He reached out and caught her arms, forcing her to look into his eyes.
“I’m in love with you, Blue Sullivan. I know that scares the crap out of you, but you’re going to have to learn to deal with it, because it’s not changing any time soon.”
“I’m not scared of you,” she said, her chin coming up. A reflexive response that came from a place deep inside her, a place that always came out fighting in response to a challenge. “That’s not what this is.”
“What is it, then?”
“Do you know how many women I’ve seen you do this to, Eddie? Dozens.”
“I have never done this with another woman. Ever. But I’m willing to acknowledge that I have a past. So do you.”
“Not like yours. I don’t charm people into loving me and then abandon them.”
“That’s right — you don’t even let them get close enough to get attached.”
“Because I don’t want that.”
“Sweetheart, you want that more than anyone I know.”
She stared at him, stunned by what was coming out of his mouth.
“You don’t know a thing about me if you can say that.”
“Don’t I?” Eddie took a st
ep closer, his whole body tense, his face set. “I know that you work hard to control your world because it makes you feel safe. I know that you would rather cut off a limb than admit that you’re scared or lonely or sad. And I know that you lost everything you loved when you were six years old, and that you have spent the past twenty-four years of your life making sure that will never happen again.” He paused to catch his breath, and she saw that his eyes were shiny with emotion. “I have loved you for ten years, Blue, but I never thought I was even close to being worthy of you. I’m still not, but I want to try. I want to be the one who makes you happy. I want to be the one who holds you when your sad. I want to love you, with everything I’ve got, instead of just the parts of me that you’ll allow. I want in, baby. All the way.”
Blue shook her head and took a step back, pulling her arms free. Away from Eddie, away from the things he was saying and the way they made her feel.
“And what happens when it’s over?” she said, because he hadn’t covered that in his pretty little speech.
“That’s not going to happen.”
“You don’t know that.” It was only when his eyes widened that she realized she’d yelled the words at him. “You don’t know that, Eddie. You don’t know that your feelings aren’t going to change or that you’re not going to walk out onto the street and get hit by a bus or that all the things you like about me won’t drive you crazy in ten years’ time.”
“You’re right, I don’t know any of those things, but I do know what it feels like to watch the woman I love get hit by a speeding motorbike and I’m here to tell you that life is too fucking short to stand on the sidelines, waiting for a sure thing that is never going to happen. I love you, Blue. I want to wake up with you in my bed every morning. I want to fight with you over who is more awesome at Call of Duty. I want to make love to you until we both can’t stand or breathe or move, and when we recover, I want to do it all over again. I want you, Blue. I want us.”
He reached out and caught her hand. His fingers were so warm, and hers was so cold.
“Let me love you, Blue,” he said, his voice deep and low with emotion. “Let me love you.”
His words hit her in the solar plexus, stealing her breath, making her knees weak. They were everything she’d ever dreamed of hearing from him, everything she’d ever hoped for. She bowed her head, squeezing his hand tight to try to stop the trembling she could feel spreading through her body. She’d waited ten years to hear him say these things to her, but instead of filling her with joy, they filled her with terror.
Stomach churning, bowel-loosening, breath-stealing terror.
After ten years of friendship, Eddie was asking her to make a leap of faith. He was challenging her to believe in him, in them. He was asking her to open herself to a future that could hold boundless joy — or fathomless loss and hurt and pain.
In that moment, Blue understood herself and her life better than she ever had before. She saw the elaborate rituals she’d developed to create a sense of safety in her world — the neatness, the routines, the lack of investment in material things — she saw the friendships she’d built around herself, good people arrayed around her, bulwarks against the vagaries of life. She saw the distance she kept between herself and the people closest to her, just in case. And she recognized the stories — the myths — she’d created to ward off her greatest fear.
I can’t ever have Eddie because he’ll never settle down.
I can’t ever have Eddie because it will only end badly.
I can’t ever have Eddie because he will never love me the way I love him.
Lies, all of them. She was the one with the problem. She was the one who couldn’t love fully, completely. She was the one who was so fucked up she couldn’t take what he was offering her.
She was the one who was too afraid to love.
She slipped her hand free from Eddie’s. Looking him in the eye was the hardest thing she’d ever had to do, but she made herself do it.
“I’m sorry. I can’t,” she said.
Then she turned and walked to her car, got in and drove away.
Eddie watched Blue’s car turn the corner at the end of the street. Belatedly he turned toward his own car, pulling the keys from his pocket. He had a Ferrari, for Pete’s sake. He could chase her down in seconds.
Then, of course, he would have the problem of working out what to say to her — because he’d said all the best things in his heart already. He’d given her everything, offered himself up, and Blue had still walked away.
He stared at the keys in his hand, then he closed his fist around them and squeezed until the pain cut through the numbness enough for him to understand that it was probably a smart idea to go into his house instead of standing in the street like a zombie.
He was such a fucking idiot. Only this afternoon — not even an hour ago — he’d been tempted to tell Blue how he felt, what he wanted, and he’d wisely decided to bide his time. And yet the very next chance he had, he’d blown it. Just blurted it all out and pushed Blue too hard, too fast, and made her run.
I’m sorry, I can’t.
For as long as he lived, he would never forget the untrammeled fear in her eyes. She had been terrified by what he was asking of her.
His phone started to ring as he entered the living room, but he already knew it wasn’t Blue and he didn’t want to speak to anyone else. He left it ringing on the kitchen counter and let himself out onto the deck.
He didn’t know what to do. It killed him that Blue was out there somewhere, freaking out because he’d jumped the gun and declared himself, but he was also more than a little wounded by her response. He’d been patient, doing his best to show her how he felt, what he wanted. Then he’d offered her his heart and his future and it hadn’t been enough.
Or, maybe, it had been too much.
Suddenly he remembered the story Sienna had told him at the wake. Voluntarily giving up everything she valued in order to prevent someone from hurting her again must have required tremendous inner steel from Blue, as well as a good dose of bloody mindedness. That level of self-discipline and control didn’t come from nowhere.
Blue had been utterly alone in the world since she was six years old. There had been no one to wipe her tears away. No one to wrap her in their arms and tell her they loved her. And yet, somehow, she’d found the inner grit to survive despite that lack. Not only that, she’d learned to protect herself so well that it had become second nature, as instinctive as breathing.
If people got too close, she backed off. If she felt at risk, she did her best to control the situation and factor in escape routes for herself.
Jesus, when he thought about it, it was a wonder she’d ever let herself kiss him, let alone sleep with him. She must have broken so many personal rules, broken so many boundaries in order to get to that moment in the alley outside the bar.
Haven’t you ever wondered? About us? How it would be?
What had it taken for her to say those words? He could hardly imagine.
He let out a sharp bark of unamused laughter as the answer came to him — it had taken a brush with death, that was what it had taken. Blue had had to stare her mortality in the eye before she’d been prepared to step outside of her comfort zone.
She’d been trying to reel herself back in ever since, too, he suddenly understood. Every step of the way she’d tried to put on the brakes, to cordon herself off, to push him away — but she’d kept reaching out to him anyway. She was the one who’d come to his bed when they were in Albury. She was the one who’d broken the one-night-a-week and the no-sleepover rules — albeit with a few nudges from him. She was the one who had lingered today and chosen to come to the street festival.
Blue might be trapped like a princess in an iron fortress of her own making, but there was a part of her that was fighting to get out, too.
The realization gave him hope. It brought him to his feet, and had him searching his pockets for his car keys. He found them on the ki
tchen table, along with his phone.
The battle for Blue’s heart wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.
For a long time Blue had no idea where she was going. At first it was simply away — away from Eddie, away from the terror that had gripped her when he’d laid her heart’s desire at her feet. Home wasn’t safe — she knew instinctively that he’d come after her there — so she’d driven onto the nearest freeway and put her foot down. It didn’t take long before the city was behind her as she sped north. Darkness fell, and still she kept on driving.
She’d been on the road for nearly two hours when she saw the turn off for Heathcote come up on her left, and she understood why her subconscious had pointed the car in this direction and ordered her to drive.
She signaled, and took the turn off. Thirty minutes later, she turned off again and followed a smaller, narrower road into the town she’d once called home. The small strip of shops that formed the commercial heart of town was silent and dim, not surprising at this time of night. She drove past the bakery, the hundred-year-old sandstone pub, the war memorial. It had been twenty-four years since she’d been in Rochester and childish memories vied with present-day reality as she cruised slowly down the main street, the two images stubbornly refusing to meld.
Main street might have changed, but the geography of the town hadn’t and the way home was still etched in her memory. Right at the post office. Second street on the left. Third street on the right.
Her father had made her practice the route in her mind over and over, in case she got lost. She could still remember him coaching her, making a game of it.
The irony was that he was the one who never made it home, along with her mother.
She leaned forward over the steering wheel as she turned into their street, straining for the first glimpse of their house. She could remember it so clearly — the glossy, dark green front door, the roses lining the pathway to the house, the birch tree that shaded the living room window.
She’d had a tree swing in the backyard, hand-made by her father from an old car tire and hung from the thick branch of the willow tree that encroached on their yard from next door. On warm summer days, she’d threaded her body through the hole and dangled and spun while her father tinkered in the shed and her mother read a book on the back porch.
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