by Danika Stone
“You don’t let people get close to you,” he whispered. “Do you?”
She turned, sudden anger brightening her eyes like bits of glass on a dark street.
“I’m here, aren’t I?”
Jude expected her to pull away at that point, but instead her free hand dropped to his knee, sliding up his thigh to his lap. Behind the screen of the tablecloth, her fingers moved higher. He made a choking noise as she reached his lap. Jude reached down, catching hold of her fingers.
“We should get going,” he gasped.
“Not enjoying this enough?” Indigo drawled.
She wriggled from his grasp, a single finger sliding along the inner seam of his trousers, and Jude bit his tongue to keep from moaning. He caught hold of her wrist again, fingers tightening.
“I’m liking it just fine,” he ground out, “but I’d rather have some privacy, if that’s okay with you.”
Indigo laughed loudly, tipping her head back and swirling her hair around her shoulders.
“Suit yourself,” she said with a coy smile, pulling her hand away and picking up her clutch. She lifted the pashmina from where she’d folded it over the chair, looping it around her shoulders. Jude waited for a few seconds, breathing slowly to calm down, before standing to join her. He tucked two hundred dollar bills into the folder with the receipt, leaving it on the table.
Crossing the room, Indigo fell back into the role of the distractingly beautiful woman again. She moved her body with a rolling grace that spoke of shadowed bedrooms and expensive lingerie, things that others dreamed of but she knew. Eyes lifted as they passed, and Jude felt his chest swell in satisfaction. He stepped closer, resting his hand on her lower back. He liked being seen with her. And he knew tonight wasn’t over.
They’d almost made it to the door when Jude’s phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket, face falling.
Unknown name, unknown number.
This was the call Marq had told him to wait for.
“Indigo, just a sec’,” Jude said, stopping just inside in the quiet entrance. “I’ve got to take this call.”
She peeked down at the phone just as it buzzed again.
“Want me to wait?”
“Just grab a cab, if you don’t mind,” Jude said. “I’ll be out in a minute to join you.”
: : : : : : : : : :
Indigo was humming as she strode to the edge of the sidewalk, her eyes on the steady stream of traffic. The air was cold, the first hint of snow coming down in individual flakes that melted into damp spots on the sidewalk, marring the windshield of parked cars with dots. Shivering, Indigo turned one direction, searching the street for cabs. She turned back the other way, and her breath caught in her throat.
There was a man in a trench coat and suit walking toward her, a burgundy scarf around his neck. His face rippled in shock as he saw her.
“Indigo?”
She took a shaking breath, waiting as Callum Woodrow strode forward. He had a briefcase in one hand, keys in the other. He was smiling, brown eyes twinkling, but his hair surprised her. Sometime in the last months he’d cut it short. The shape of it made him seem younger than he’d been last year. As if time had run backward instead of forward since they’d parted.
He paused a few feet away, grinning.
“God, it is you, Indigo,” he breathed. “I wasn’t sure. It’s got to be, what? Five months? Six?”
“Yeah,” she replied, forcing a smile. “Something like that.”
It was seven, but she didn’t say. She was intent on keeping the façade of control tightly in place. She was playing two roles now: the pretty club girl and the pulled-together ex. If Jude walked out, she didn’t know how she was going to keep herself going. She already had too many balls in the air.
“It’s great to see you again,” Cal said warmly. His eyes moved down her body and back up to her face.
“Yeah, you too.”
“You look great,” he added. “Looks like life’s treating you well.”
“Life’s alright,” she said, then forced herself to hold his eyes. Bravery, she’d learned, wasn’t an innate strength, just the willingness to face the fire and not care that it burned you alive. She smiled coyly, her voice lifting. “How’s your wife?”
He dropped his chin bashfully.
“Um, yeah,” he said, lifting his gaze back up, smile growing. “Have to admit I don’t know.” He paused for a single heartbeat, and Indigo felt the world grow colder. “Fiona and I broke up this summer.”
“Oh, God,” she gasped, confidence torn away by unexpected panic.
She turned, staring up the street, desperate for the flash of yellow that would mark a cab. Her heart was thudding in her ears, knees shaking.
“You need a ride home?” Cal asked quietly. Everything else they’d been was woven into the words.
He reached out, touching her shoulder, but Indigo sidled out of his way, wrapping the shawl tightly around herself. She wasn’t ready for this yet. Maybe not ever.
“Thanks, but no,” Indigo replied. “I’m waiting for a cab now.”
“It’s cold out,” he insisted. “My car’s just up the street, sweetheart. It’s no problem.”
“I said no!”
At that, Cal smiled, the skin around his eyes wrinkling the way she loved. Indigo’s heart twisted. He always knew how to push her. How to get her to do what he wanted even when she swore she was going to do the opposite. This was no different.
“I’m sorry,” he said contritely, putting his hands into his pockets. “I know how… independent you are.”
She nodded, not answering. A yellow and black cab appeared at the end of the block, and Indigo stepped toward the curb. Like a dancer, Cal moved back in front of her, blocking her view.
“I’m sorry about how things ended, Indigo,” he said softly. “I had hoped that we could stay friends.”
Her attention jerked back to his face, calm scattering. She couldn’t pretend when he was staring at her like this, all the unravelled hopes of the two of them, rekindled in his eyes.
“You were the one who ended things,” she hissed. “Not me!”
He reached out, brushing a strand of hair off her face. Indigo’s breath coming in shallow gasps, desperate to escape. ‘From him… from myself…’ When he touched her she wanted to say yes.
“I needed some time to think about things for a while,” he said. “What you told me just took me by surprise.”
His smile faltered, his hand falling back to his side, and for just a second, Indigo wanted to comfort him. She swallowed hard, throat aching. This was the part of Callum Woodrow she could never manage. The man who made her feel things she swore she’d never allow.
“I still think about you sometimes,” Cal said gently. “About us…”
A flash of yellow appeared, and Indigo stepped straight off the sideway into the street, waving frantically. The cab pulled to a screeching stop, the car behind it slamming on the horn.
Indigo had her hand on the door handle before Cal caught her.
“Indigo, I want to talk,” he said, taking hold of her upper arm. “I think you and I could—
She spun around, tearing from his grip.
“Just stop!” she gasped. “It’s done! We’re done!”
Behind Cal on the sidewalk, Jude appeared. Catching sight of Indigo, he jogged forward, concern sharpening the lines of his face.
“Sweetheart, listen,” Cal said, taking hold of her fingers, his hand warm where hers was cold. “I’m so sorry for—”
“Let go of me!” she cried, voice breaking.
The cab’s window rolled down, the man inside, staring out at them in concern.
“This man bothering you, ma’am?”
Indigo ripped her hand out of Cal’s just as Jude jogged forward.
“Hey!” Jude barked. “Back off, man!”
For a half-second, Indigo was relieved, but then Cal turned.
Jude’s face blanched. “Professor Woodrow?”
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Indigo wrenched open the door of the cab, climbing inside before anyone could stop her. She could hear Jude talking, and Cal answering in that arrogant, easy-going tone he always used with people he considered lesser than himself. Leaning forward, Indigo gave the driver her address just as the door reopened. Jude stared down at her, face fraught with worry.
“Am I coming?”
“I don’t care,” Indigo gasped, “I just want to go home.”
Jude climbed in, settling down beside her as the cab headed down the dark streets. Above them, the sky had opened up, great wet flakes swirling around them, closing them off from the rest of the world. Indigo swallowed against the lump in her throat time and again, trying to force it away, but her emotions churned like a storm. Too many other memories in the cab with them too.
“What do you mean, there’s more?” Cal had asked.
“I mean that there are things I haven’t told you,” she’d whispered. “Things I haven’t told anyone.”
“You can tell me, Indigo. I love you…”
Indigo peeked over at Jude. He hadn’t said anything since the restaurant, but she could see he was troubled. His jaw was clenched, his eyes hooded.
Indigo shifted into the middle of the bench seat, her hand sliding up the front of his shirt, tightening on his collar. Jude frowned, but didn’t move. She tugged him nearer, feeling him resist for just a second, and then fall forward.
The kiss started like a wildfire, one spark igniting them, mouths bumping together in haste. He tasted of wine, his tongue deep in her mouth, hard and insistent. Indigo’s fingers tangled in the front of his shirt, rough and anxious to forget. Jude groaned, and she dragged herself close so that the whole length of their bodies were pressed together against the door of the cab.
Blocked off from the rest of the city, the embrace dragged on, growing heady. When Jude was kissing her, it was easy to forget. Indigo wanted someone else in her memory. Another man’s arms around her. One who didn’t know her past, or judge her for it.
‘Someone with green eyes, not brown.’
The sensations rushed over them both, separating them out from the rest of the world, leaving them clutching desperately to one another as their mouths slanted together. She wriggled and heard the unmistakeable sound of a seam popping.
“Up,” she panted, “on the seat.”
Jude slid back into place and in seconds, she had straddled his lap on the cracked vinyl of the narrow seat. With each kiss, the embers of desire between them grew hotter, fuelling their motions. The bruising pressure of Jude’s mouth moved from her lips to her neck, sucking and nipping. He pushed down the shoulder strap of her dress with sure fingers, finding his way to the lacy bra and pulling it aside so he could reach her breast. His hands tightened on her hips, grinding her against him, eliciting a groan from deep in her throat.
Mid-act, her only focus was Jude, the rest of her rebellious thoughts burned away. Wild with desire, his mouth latched onto the free nipple while he played with the other through the barrier of her bra, rolling it into a hardened peak. Her skin was luminous in the darkness, lit from the streetlight beyond.
The dress rode up her thighs to expose the triangle of her panties as she writhed in his lap. Jude followed the path of bare skin, his fingers nudging the lace aside to brush against damp folds. She quaked with each touch, her hands moving frantically against him.
“Oh god, Jude…” she moaned. This was the wrong place to be doing this, and she didn’t care.
His free arm wrapped around her hips, grinding against her, the clothes that separated them a growing frustration. His fingertips were sparks, igniting her skin where they touched, leaving her burning. His tongue worked one hard peak and then the other, pushing her control precariously to the edge. Impatient to kiss him, she threaded her hands into his short hair and pulled him up to her mouth. Jude’s eyes fluttered open at the motion, looking up at her with half-drugged eyes.
And then they were kissing again. His teeth nipped at her lips before deepening the kiss, tongues moving together in an impatient rush of desire. A moan of frustration slipped out as her fingers began to tug at Jude’s belt. He shifted in the narrow seat, but there was barely any room, and the button wouldn’t open; she moved to his chest instead. Indigo was panting, her tongue darting into his mouth, her fingers impatient on his shoulders, tracing the lines and angles of him. Jude ran one hand up from her hips to the soft curve of her bare breast, while the other dropped between them, tugging the lace impatiently aside. She rocked against his fingers, wild with need.
He’d just shifted his hips forward, trying to make room where there was none when a loud knock on the window interrupted the two of them. The two of them jumped apart, laughing.
The cab had stopped without them realizing, the driver watching them in the mirror.
“You want to come inside?” Indigo panted.
Jude let his head fall against the back of the seat, eyes pressed closed as if in pain.
“Yes, of course,” he groaned, “but I can’t.” He lifted his head, brows crinkling together. “Marq and I have a new project.”
“The one you were talking about,” she said.
“Yeah,” Jude growled, his hand sliding into her hair. “And I promised I’d put in at least a couple hours of coding tonight.” He kissed her fiercely, before pulling away again. “It’s just something I’ve gotta do. Alright?”
She nodded.
“You want me to walk you up?” Jude offered.
Indigo smirked, imagining the dealers who hung out by the elevator and what they’d think of this man who looked like he’d stepped off the wrong train.
“Nah,” she laughed. “I’m good. You get going.” She reached out, smoothing her palm against Jude’s cheek. He caught her fingers.
“You’re making it hard to leave….”
Indigo giggled, the tightness of her chest easing.
“Then I should let you go.”
She straightened her shawl, tucking the clutch under one arm and opening the door. In seconds she was inside the building, watching the cab pull away. With Jude gone, her expression changed, the flame of her smile guttering out until only old pain remained. If she’d been a movie house actress at dinner tonight, now she was a faded marquis poster, edges ragged and curling.
With a tired sigh she pulled off her heels, and trudged, barefoot, up the dirty stairs.
Chapter 7: View from the Fifteenth Floor
Jude finished programming just after dawn. On the floor sat a sheaf of papers from the OpenSolaris Unix system, corners marked with sticky notes. He’d done a trial run of the Trojan twice, watching how it functioned within a protected system, then gone through the code by hand. In the last few days, Marq’s concern had become manic, the tension spreading by degrees until Jude felt like there was a person watching over his shoulder.
He saved the Trojan onto a hard drive, and then a backup onto a spare jump drive, tucking both into the inside pocket of his jacket. He stumbled across his room, only to find himself caught in the image in the mirror; he ran a hand over his stubbled chin, shocked by the red-rimmed eyes and haggard face that greeted him. He might want sleep, but he needed a shower.
Unexpected pounding at the door had him jumping.
“Yeah?” he croaked
Elliot opened the door.
“You’re already up,” he said in surprise. Three empty Mountain Dew bottles lined the windowsill; chip bags and papers littered the floor. “Programming again?”
“Uh-huh,” Jude said through a yawn. “Finished about an hour ago.”
“Great! You can hit the gym with me.”
“No can do, bro. I’ve gotta grab a shower.” Elliot’s face fell. “Sorry, buddy. Me’n Marq have a meeting downtown.”
Elliot nodded, but didn’t move. He was staring at the pile of Unix pages, and Jude belatedly wished he’d put them away. He could see the annoyance in his friend’s downturned mouth.
“Look Elliot, s
ince you’re up,” Jude said, stepping in front of the pages and waiting until his roommate caught his eye. “Could I catch a ride downtown with you?”
“For what?” Elliot glared at the drive in Jude’s hand. In seconds, Jude knew he’d be making the connection he shouldn’t be making. He dropped it into his pocket, forcing an easy grin.
“Like I was saying, Marq and I have a business meeting today, so can I catch a ride?”
Elliot gave a wan smile.
“Yeah, sure thing.”
: : : : : : : : : :
Indigo was still in bed when she heard Shireese talking to someone in the living room. She frowned, glancing at the clock on the bedside table – 8:11 a.m. – and closed her eyes again. The voices in the foyer began to rise: one was Shireese, the other a man. The conversation was muffled, but bits and pieces of it began to appear.
“… she’s asleep!”
“… leave her my number.”
“… oh, I’ll tell her you came by!”
The words grew in intensity, the voices digging into Indigo’s awareness.
“If you could just check on her…”
“…not a chance in hell!”
“Just give me a second, Shireese…”
“You just go and keep on going!”
Indigo jerked awake, awareness dropping into place like a puzzle piece. Cal was here in the apartment! His voice and the memories of last night were abruptly real. Indigo clambered out of bed, grabbing jeans off the floor and sliding them on top of the panties she’d worn to bed. She threw her tank top into the laundry pile, fishing until she found an almost-clean bra.
“I just need a minute to explain.”
“I don’t know, and don’t care what you need!”
The voices were a low rumble, like thunder, the pretence of whispers slipping. Indigo struggled into a t-shirt, dread rising. Socks and a sweater were next; she pulled them on with shaking hands.
“… and don’t you think you did enough last time!”
“Look, Shireese, I’m not sure this is your call to make, Indigo’s an adult…”