by Jillian Dodd
Am I writing the scene this way because this is how I wish it had gone? I think so.
It’s been almost a week since we got back from the resort, and my tan is still going strong, so that’s a good thing.
Matt’s left me alone. I’m not sure what to make of that. He’s such a baby, sulking in his apartment. I know he’s in there too. I know he’s alive and well.
How do I know?
The fact that a girl spent half the night moaning his name. He’s up to his old tricks, apparently. There I was, spoiled all this time. Enjoying silence while working in the middle of the night.
I didn’t bother playing the marching band music. It would’ve been petty, and while I am many things, I don’t like to imagine myself as being petty.
Not to mention the fact that I’m suspicious of him. What if he was trying to goad me into confronting him? What if he wanted that to be our first contact after so long?
I wasn’t about to fall for that trick. If that was what he had in mind anyway.
Not that I’m exactly going to ask if that was what he had in mind because I don’t want to make it look like I’m overthinking it and—oh shoot, I’m driving myself nuts. I should get back to thinking about work.
With my elbows on the desk, I rest my chin in my hands and read over again what I have so far.
How can I capture the way I felt when he left me there, in the room, and I wished it hadn’t felt like I was saying good-bye to him for good?
No, I never told him I wasn’t that kind of girl. Even I know how hopelessly silly that sounds. It’s one thing for a character in a book to come up with something like that, but me?
At least he stuck around for a little bit afterward. That was nice. We walked along the beach for a while before he headed back to his room to get packed.
Now?
I need to get my head fully into work, so I won’t be tempted to check the phone again. And again.
So what if he hasn’t gotten in touch with me yet? So what if there hasn’t even been a text message?
So what if I’m starting to wonder whether I was right in the first place? That he only wanted to get in my panties while we were at the resort and then disappear in the night? I guess he never had any intention of us going to dinner or doing anything else once we were back from the wedding.
And I need to be okay with that, which is why I’ve decided to put him behind me.
While writing a book based on our experiences. I swear, it’s like I’ve decided to live the rest of my life in purgatory. Punishing myself, serving my time before going on to something better. Something less torturous.
I know what I need to do with my book at least. That much I can control. I’ll have Trent avoid Missy, though it’ll be for completely innocent reasons. Death in the family or something equally unpreventable.
If I were Missy, what would I do?
Oh, to hell with that. I am Missy, let’s be honest. And what I would love to do is go to him and ask who he thinks he is. Why he thought it would be okay to lie to me. Six days, and he hasn’t bothered to get in touch?
I reached out to him. The ball is completely in his court.
Yes, I’ll have Missy confront Trent to his face. Let her take him down a peg or two.
When did I start crying?
I have to go to the bathroom to rinse my face before taking a long, hard look at myself in the mirror. I don’t look any different than usual. My skin is tanner than normal, but that’s not saying much, considering I’m normally pale enough to be nearly transparent.
There’s no sign on my forehead reading, Sucker.
It must be something I transmit via unspoken signal or something. A chemical that men can smell and translate as me being a pushover. Easy to get to. Easy to sweet-talk and then crumple up like a candy wrapper and throw away.
I am not that person. I’m not that girl.
I’m Kitty freaking Valentine.
And none of this pep-talking keeps me from jumping on my ringing phone like it’s a live grenade about to go off and there are people around me whose lives I’m trying to save.
“Oh, it’s you,” I mumble, dropping onto the sofa in a breathless heap after answering.
“Hello to you too.” Hayley laughs. “What’s up? Stuck on a scene?”
“Yeah, I’m stuck. The juices aren’t flowing.”
“I’m sorry. Maybe you should get out and take a walk. Or, hey, go up and sit on the roof. It’s a gorgeous day, which I only wish I were able to enjoy instead of being stuck in the office. But you know how it is. I took a week off, God forbid, so I need to keep my head down and be a good girl for a while.”
No, I don’t know how it is. Not personally. Only through what she’s told me. With all things being equal, I like my job a lot better than hers.
“I think the roof is off-limits for me right now. I might end up running into somebody I’d rather not see. And I’m sure he doesn’t want to see me either.”
“You still haven’t seen Matt? I swear, the two of you are worse than children. Do you need me to come in and mediate? Should we have a sit-down?”
“Shush.”
“No, I mean it. Obviously, I can’t count on the two of you to act like adults and work your shit out rationally. You need to be guided into this.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“Says the girl who refuses to speak to her neighbor because he was mean to her.”
“There’s a line, babe. Your toe is on it.” I have to clench my teeth against anything else that wants to come out.
“Okay, sorry. But I do think it’s a shame you two aren’t talking. That’s all I’m gonna say.”
“I’m a little more concerned about not talking to somebody else right now, to be honest with you.” Just imagining his face in my head makes my chest hurt. Especially when I see him poised over me …
“He still hasn’t called you back?”
“I would’ve told you if he had.”
“Oh, honey, I’m sorry. Do you want me to reach out to Kylie and see if Zack knows anything?”
It’s tempting. Oh-so tempting. That would be simple, wouldn’t it? Having Kylie find out for me. She owes me just slightly, doesn’t she? I did save her entire wedding experience and all that.
Yes, I know I didn’t want to take too much credit for that, but times have changed. I’m emotional now. I’m feeling dumped and used.
“No,” I sigh once the angel and devil on my shoulders stop fighting it out. “No, she shouldn’t do that. The girl just got married a week ago, and knowing her, she’s probably fixated on her next project by now. Like world domination.”
“Who knows? Maybe she’s taken her new relaxed attitude and decided to make it a lifelong thing. Maybe next time I visit her apartment, I won’t feel like I’m walking into a Pinterest ad.”
“You know what I hope? That she drops those girlfriends of hers for good. She deserves better than that.”
“I hope you’re right. Maybe I’ll put a bug in her ear about that one instead of one about you and Briggs.”
“Don’t say his name, please. I feel like such an idiot. He told me we were going to go out once we were back home. He could’ve just said no. Heck, I might still have slept with him. Who knows?”
“There might be something wrong. He’s not that kind of person. I’ll look into it.”
“Don’t.”
“Too late!” She’s off the call before I can beg her to please not make a bigger fool out of me than I’ve already made out of myself.
I mean, she’d have to work pretty hard to do that after all. I wouldn’t want to take up her valuable time.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Enough of this nonsense.
I’ve paced the entire length of my apartment so many times that my legs are tired.
I’ve rearranged the books on the shelves, which now sit in order by author and then by title. I don’t think I like it, and I’ll probably change things up again soon, but for now, they�
��ll have to sit.
I might resort to scrubbing the bathroom soon.
Eek. Anything’s better than that.
Which is what sends me up the narrow staircase and onto the roof. It’s an absolutely glorious day and well past the time when Matt normally finishes working. I heard his door open and close a few minutes ago, followed by the door at the other end of the hall, which leads up to the roof.
Might as well get this over with. Even if he’s still mad, I doubt he’ll throw me over the ledge.
Though I might want to send Hayley a message to warn her, just in case they find my body on the sidewalk. Somebody ought to know my last movements, if they are indeed my last.
No, I’m usually the one threatening grievous bodily harm. Matt would rather taunt me half to death.
There he is, sitting in his chair, a small cooler next to him. The light from the late afternoon sun hits him in just such a way that his brown hair now looks flecked with red and gold. His back is to me, but I know from the tightening of his shoulders that he heard me step out from the stairwell.
Without saying a word, I go to the spot under the ledge where my chair is tucked and pull it out before plopping down not far from him. My normal position.
As usual, he opens the cooler and pulls out a bottle of beer, popping the cap before extending his arm in my direction. A good sign.
It might be the level of emotion I’m running at right now, but that simple gesture is enough to choke me up. I gladly accept the beer without saying a word.
For a while, it’s enough for us to sit in silence.
Though he doesn’t stay silent for long.
“So, what finally made you decide to come up here?” He glances my way from the corner.
I hold up the beer bottle. “What do you think? It was your turn to buy the beer, and I didn’t want to give you the chance to back out on me.”
“You came up here because you love my beer so much?”
“You have decent taste in beer. Accept one of the few compliments I’ve ever given you.”
“Fair enough.” He takes a pull from his bottle before asking, “Why are you really here?”
“You are exhausting.”
“Is that why?”
“No, dummy. It’s because I got tired of avoiding you. It’s easier to exist without wondering if I’m gonna end up running into you in the hallway and seeing your stupid face. And what’ll happen if we do run into each other.”
As an afterthought, I add, “I miss Phoebe too. I’ve been wanting to see her all week.”
“She’s been scratching at the door, trying to get to you. And I practically have to drag her into the apartment when I bring her in from a run. She’d rather be at your place.”
“Gee, I can’t imagine why. Maybe because I’m so much nicer to be around than you.”
“Oh yeah, she told me that.”
“Shut up.”
“Fine, don’t believe me.” He finishes his beer before taking another. “So, how was the wedding?”
“Honestly, it was great. It really was.” I have to give it a moment’s thought before continuing, “I mean, yeah, there was a massive storm in the middle of the ceremony and we all got soaked and the officiant almost got his face knocked off by a flying palm leaf, but yeah, it was great.”
He almost spits out his beer. “You’re kidding. So, you said it was great, but that’s what happened?”
“I know it sounds nutty, but honestly, the whole thing turned out perfectly. They were …” A sigh escapes me, one I didn’t know I had been holding inside until I heard it. “They were so happy. And so in love. Which is what made it perfect.”
“Sometimes, I forget you’re a romantic at heart.”
“Sometimes, I forget you’re a cynical pain in the butt. And you could maybe try not to sound so dismissive when you say that, by the way. Like there’s something wrong with me for being a romantic.”
He winces. “I didn’t mean it like that. I didn’t expect you to take it that seriously.”
“Yes, well, words mean something. When you say them, they mean something. You can’t throw them around and expect people not to care.”
He’s quiet for a while, though I can tell he’s studying me from his chair. I won’t favor him with a look in his direction.
“Why do I feel like this isn’t entirely about what’s happening right now? Between you and me in this moment?”
“I don’t know.” I shrug.
“Because, yeah, it’s been a while since we’ve hung out, but you don’t usually get so wounded. You can give as good as you get. I’ve spent all these days girding my loins, waiting for you to flay me with a few well-chosen words and the threat of … I don’t know … throwing something at me.”
“I guess things have changed. I don’t, um …” Another sip of beer doesn’t help me clear my head any. Not that I expected it to. It’s more a stalling tactic, so I can figure out what to say. “I don’t have a lot of patience right now.”
“What’s wrong? For real. Straight up. One friend to another.”
One friend to another. Right. This is going to involve swallowing a whole lot of pride. I hope I don’t choke on it.
“Things haven’t been going very well with the person I was telling you about. The one who I was supposed to date for the sake of my next book.”
“Okay.”
I almost wish he would say something else. Then again, if he said much more, I’d probably wish he’d mind his own business.
“He’s ghosting me.”
“What a dick.”
“Stop.” I roll my eyes at him with a disgusted expression.
“I’m serious. I’ve never ghosted a woman, and I never will. It’s lame and cheap and pathetic. Like, be a man. Grow a pair. If you don’t want to go out with somebody, fucking tell them.”
His support gives me added confidence.
I sit up a little straighter in the chair. “Right? That’s what I’m saying! But, no, he went out of his way to make sure I thought he wanted to see me when the wedding was over.”
His eyes narrow. “You fucked him.”
“Ew! You jerk!”
“You did. Admit it.”
“Why are you like this?”
“Because it’s obvious, and I have a talent for seeing the obvious. You slept with him, and now, he’s ghosting you. And that hurts, and, yeah, of course it does. He’s an asshole for doing that. Men are pigs.”
“Shut up,” I whisper, though it’s with a tiny smile.
“I’m serious. We’re a plague upon the world and deserve to be dragged outside and shot. All of us, all at once.”
“Shut up for real.”
“I’m just saying.” He grins a little, which gets me grinning. “I’m sorry. Really. Very sorry. The guy’s an asshole. But, hey, there could be a genuine reason for it.”
“Don’t do that. It’s so much harder when I tell myself those things. It’s easier for me to let it go.”
“Okay, sue me. I was trying to be a friend.”
The thing is, I know he was. Which is why I let it go without arguing any further. “At least I can give us a happy ending in the book. My hero is a good guy. He wouldn’t use a girl for a night and disappear.”
“That’s how it should be.”
“And that’s why I write romance. It’s the way things should be. Happily ever after and all that. Genuine intentions, misunderstandings, the couple getting together in the end once everything’s been worked out.”
“But you don’t want to believe that’s possible for you in real life?”
I can only shrug with a sad smirk. “Real life doesn’t work that way. We wouldn’t need romance books as an escape otherwise.”
“Oof. I’m not used to this version of Kitty. I’m used to, you know, rainbows and unicorns and sarcasm Kitty. Witty-banter Kitty.”
“This is the Kitty I am right now.”
It’s hilarious really, that he appears to give this serious thought.
He stares at his bottle and starts picking at the label, his brow furrowed.
Finally, he nods. “That’s cool. You can be whoever you are.”
“Thank you for granting me permission to be who I am.”
“Ah, there she is.” He throws me a wink and a smirk. “You look like you got a lot of sun. That’s good anyway. I’m jealous. This is as much sun as I’ve been afforded lately.”
He stretches his long legs out in front of him, and not for the first time do I wonder why he walks around the roof barefoot. The man is just begging for an infection.
“Working too hard?”
“The market’s volatile right now. I’ve been watching it like a hawk. Not much time for stepping onto the roof with a beer—or for much of anything else.”
“Hmm.” I can’t help it. “Seems to me there was time for at least one other thing recently.”
He snorts. “Yeah, well, there’s always time for that.”
“Good to know you have your priorities in order.”
“Always.”
“Because men are pigs?” I raise an eyebrow before polishing off my beer.
“Something like that.”
I’m still grinning when my phone rings. Darn my treasonous heart for skipping a beat, hoping it’s Kellen. Hoping this has all been a misunderstanding, just like in one of my books.
“Hayley,” I whisper for Matt’s benefit.
“Don’t let me stop you.”
He makes no move to give me privacy. Why would he? Such a pain.
Hayley’s breathless when I answer the call. “I’m gonna swing by in a car in, like, ten minutes. I got ahold of Kylie. There’s a big problem. We’re going to the hospital.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
I can’t help but go through flashbacks of rushing into the ER when Grandmother had her heart attack. It’s barely been six months since that awful night.
This isn’t quite as dire. Though my heart is still in my throat as I hurry into the hospital with Hayley at my side.