Kiss in the Dark
Page 9
“No,” he began, “but I won’t sleep a wink tonight if I try to sleep in my bed.”
“Why is that?” Danielle asked, relieved yet simultaneously curious.
Vance continued to mull over his scattered papers as he simply said, “There’s a woman in it.”
“What?” Danielle exclaimed. Was he serious? What was he talking about? What woman was in is his bed? Yet, all at once, understanding washed over Danielle, and she nodded. “You finally coaxed Boston into your bed…didn’t you?”
“Actually, I carried her there…told her to take a nap,” he said without looking up from the papers he was now gathering into a neat pile. “Haven’t heard a peep out of her since…and I’m certainly not going to wake her up now and send her back to that snake she lives with. I’m just glad my house opened up so she can move in here on Saturday. I told her we’d help move her stuff for her.” He paused and looked to his sister. “I hope you don’t mind that I made that commitment for you.”
Danielle smiled. “Not at all. But when did you find out about the house? You didn’t say anything.”
“They called me while I was on my way home from work today,” he explained. “But you and sleeping beauty in there were so busy babbling on about men and chocolate that I just figured I’d wait until things settled down.”
“Vance,” Danielle began, “you don’t have to hurry about moving. You know that. Boston would die if she thought you were rushing to get into your house and out of here just for her sake.”
“I’m not. Why wouldn’t I want to move into my house? It’s costing me a fortune. It would be stupid not to move in as soon as possible, right?” He looked to her and grinned.
Danielle smiled too. She was happy for her big brother. He had worked hard to get into his own house, especially at such a young age. She was happy for him. She could just imagine him sitting in the privacy and comfort of his own place again—watching cop shows on TV and eating ice cream right out of the carton.
“You’ve got a point,” she said.
“Of course I do,” he said. He finished gathering his papers, set them aside on one of the counters, and yawned. He stood from his seat at the table, stretched, yawned again, and headed for the sofa.
“Now if I can just make it until my job at the zoo kicks in,” he mumbled. “This road construction stuff is killing me.”
Danielle thought of Boston asleep in Vance’s bedroom. Boy, would she be rattled when she woke up in the morning. Danielle giggled to herself, knowing full well Boston would be mortified she’d spent the night—whether or not it was contrived by Vance.
“You know, Vance,” Danielle began, very tentatively. She was scared—worried that what she was about to say might set her brother back. “You should pursue Boston.”
Vance chuckled as he stretched out on the sofa. He tucked a throw pillow under his head and pulled the quilt off the nearby chair, haphazardly covering himself with it. “Oh, sure,” he chuckled.
“Why not?” Danielle prodded.
“She’s a good girl. She deserves a good man.”
“And you’re not a good man? You don’t deserve a good girl?” Danielle asked.
Vance didn’t look at her—simply closed his eyes and exhaled a heavy sigh. “You said it…not me,” he grumbled.
“Oh, don’t pull that on me,” Danielle scolded. “Move past it all, Vance. I have! Why won’t you—”
He looked at her then—glared at her with the recognizable pain and anger blazing in his emerald eyes. “You’re not past it, Danny,” he growled. “You’re not over it, and it wasn’t even your fault.”
“It wasn’t your fault either, Vance,” Danielle argued. “Please just—”
He raised a hand, the familiar gesture that he didn’t want to continue conversing the subject. “She’s not my type, Danielle. You know that…so just let it go,” he mumbled.
“Whatever, Vance,” Danielle grumbled. “Good night.” Danielle shoved the carton of ice cream in the freezing compartment of the fridge, slamming the freezer door a little too hard.
Vance could be so irritating! Maybe he’d been right. Maybe she was glad he’d told her to back off from encouraging him to pursue Boston. After all, maybe Danielle didn’t want her best friend to be shackled to Vance’s sometimes-irritating temperament.
Stomping off to her bedroom, Danielle closed the door and exhaled a heavy sigh of frustration. Vance—what an idiot! She shook her head, determining she would do as he suggested and let it go—for now.
Vance inhaled a deep breath. He held the breath for a moment—counted to ten before exhaling. He was tired—every which way tired. He’d worked road construction off and on all through college, but knowing a good job was waiting for him at the zoo in less than a month was turning him into a weenie. In that moment, he simply wanted to be able to get up in the morning, drive to the zoo, and get to work on the plans for the new lion enclosure.
His body ached from intense physical exertion. His head ached from going through the zoo paperwork. His stomach twisted with anxiety at the thought of Danielle’s suggesting he should pursue Boston. He thought of the pretty, auburn-haired girl in the next room—felt his anger flare at the thought of her viper-like roommate. Boston was a uniquely kind, nice girl—the kind of girl he would’ve liked to have won for himself in another life, in other circumstances. He’d overhead Boston and Danielle talking about this Logan West that Boston was dating. He hoped the guy was worthy of such a rare young woman—that he treated her well and didn’t take advantage of her inability to say no.
He clenched his eyes more tightly shut—shook his head a little to try and dispel the vision of Boston in his mind—the soft, sweet fragrance of her hair against his face as he’d carried her to the bed. He started thinking about maybe moving Boston into Danielle’s apartment tomorrow instead of waiting until Saturday. That way she could sleep in his bed tomorrow night as well and never have to spend another hateful evening with that Steph chick. He sighed, however. There just wasn’t time. Everyone had work, and then there was the Friday night hangout planned at Danielle’s. It would have to wait until Saturday. Still, the idea of sending Boston back into the den of venom ticked him off.
Vance inhaled another deep breath—held it to the count of ten—exhaled slowly. He was tired—weary—plain worn out. He had to turn off his brain, settle down, and get some sleep. He began to concentrate on the rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall, the sound of the traffic outside. It worked—and he slept.
Boston seemed to drift in and out of sleep. She was comfortable—unusually so—warm and rested.
She heard voices. They seemed distant at first, but then she realized they were in another room—just beyond the one she slept in.
Instantly, she sat upright—rather, bolted upright.
“Oh my heck!” she exclaimed. She clutched the worn quilt to her chest as she looked around. The digital alarm clock on the nightstand said six a.m. At least she wouldn’t be late for work—not if she raced home and managed to shower and get ready without a confrontation with Steph.
Leaping from the bed, Boston flung open the door and raced into the kitchen. Danielle was there, dressed in a nightgown and a light bathrobe. She was pouring juice from a pitcher into a glass on the table.
“Good morning, Boston,” she greeted. “How did you sleep? Do you think that bed’s gonna be okay? It’s a queen…but you can bring the twin from your apartment over if you’d rather.”
“Vance didn’t wake me up!” Boston exclaimed.
“Sorry about that,” came Vance’s raspy morning voice.
Boston looked to the sofa where Vance was sprawled. He looked charmingly handsome! His dark, tousled hair and the way he was rubbing his eyes gave him an adorable, boyish appearance.
“I got tired and lay down out here and…” Vance shrugged his shoulders. “Did you sleep well though?”
Boston inhaled a calming breath and nodded. “Actually…yes.”
“Oh my heck!” Boston exclaimed. “I’ve gotta hurry! Steph will chew a hole in me when I get home, and I have to be to work on time.”
Danielle shrugged. “Just shower here. You can wear something of mine. You don’t really need to go back to the apartment before work, do you?”
“I…I don’t know,” Boston stammered. Her attention was arrested by Vance—by his rather unsteady saunter toward them.
“Your purse is buzzing,” he said, brushing past Boston and reaching for the orange juice pitcher.
He raised it to his mouth, and Boston smiled as Danielle slapped him on the top of the head and scolded, “Use a glass, moron!”
Boston’s purse was still hanging from the back of one of the kitchen chairs. Quickly, she began rummaging for her cell.
“Who could be calling at six a.m.?” she mumbled.
“One guess,” Danielle said, shaking her head.
Boston’s stomach churned as she saw Steph’s name on the caller ID. She looked to Danielle. “Are you sure you don’t mind lending me some stuff?”
“Not at all,” Danielle assured her.
“She’s gonna quiz me on where I was,” Boston said.
“Tell her the truth,” Vance said. “Tell her you spent the night in my bed.”
“You’re such a dork!” Danielle teased, affectionately slapping the top of Vance’s head again.
“Ow!” he said, taking a glass from the dishwasher and filling it with juice.
Boston inhaled a deep breath and pushed send.
“Hello?”
“Where were you?” Steph screeched. “I was up all night worrying about you!”
Boston put her thumb over the cell’s mouthpiece and looked to Danielle. “That would explain why she didn’t call until now, right?”
“You are so rude, Boston Rhodes!” Steph continued, so loudly both Danielle and Vance could hear her as Boston held the phone away from her ear. “Seriously, I can’t wait for you to move out of here! I can’t believe I gave you two weeks! I should’ve made you leave last Friday! I can’t believe I’ve put up with your lack of consideration for this long! Where in the world were you? I can’t believe you put me through this! I suppose you were at Danielle’s. What’d you do, sleep with her brother?”
“Steph,” Boston began, but she paused as Vance moved to her, placing his mouth close to her phone.
“See you after work, Boston,” Vance began. “Thanks for keeping me warm last night.” Boston gasped as Vance then made a quick kissing noise with his mouth. With a triumphant nod and grin, he said, “Let her put that in her pipe and smoke it,” then sipped his orange juice.
“Oh…my…heck!” Stephanie growled over the phone. “I knew it, Boston! I knew you were a fake! Miss Goody Two-Shoes, my foot!”
“It’s not what you think, Steph,” Boston began, “I just fell asleep over here, and no one woke me up.”
“Yeah, right!” Steph spat. “I told you to stay away from him, Boston. I warned you.”
Vance frowned as Boston fought to calm Steph down.
“Look, Steph…I’m sorry,” Boston apologized. “I should’ve called. I-I was just so tired.”
“Whatever, Boston,” Steph said. “Just get home before six. I need a ride over to Danielle’s to hang out tonight.”
Boston’s mouth matched Danielle’s in dropping open in astonishment.
“You gotta be kidding me!” Vance said. “You telling me she still thinks she’s welcome over here?”
“Vance! Shh!” Danielle scolded.
Vance swore under his breath and sipped more juice.
“I’ll be home by six, Steph,” Boston said. “But…but I feel it’s only right to tell you that I’ll be moving out tomorrow…instead of next week.”
There was silence for a moment. Then Steph said, “Well, good! I can’t take your inconsiderate rudeness anymore, Boston. Get your stuff out by noon! I’ll tell my new roommate she can move in at one. That’ll give me time to clean up any mess you leave.”
“I’ll be out as soon as I can, Steph,” Boston said.
The line went dead. Boston felt tears welling in her eyes. As miserable and mean as Steph was, Boston actually felt bad about it all.
“That chick’s a psycho,” Vance said, pouring more juice into his glass.
“We’ll have you moved out by noon, Boston,” Danielle said. “Don’t worry.”
“I am so sorry, Danielle,” Boston said. “I am so sorry that you have to put up with all this because of me. I’ll never be able to repay you. I am so sorry!”
Danielle shrugged and smiled. “I’m just glad we’re finally going to be roommates. And I can’t wait until Steph’s completely out of the picture.”
“We’ll get up first thing in the morning and get your stuff out of there,” Vance said, stripping his shirt off over his head. “You can stay here again tonight, and then you won’t even have to sleep there again.”
“I can’t,” Boston said.
Boston gasped as Vance reached out, taking her chin firmly in one strong hand.
“Yes, you can…and you will,” he demanded. “If you’re worried about appearances, I can throw an air mattress on the floor at my place. The previous owners are supposed to be out by five p.m. today.”
Boston was breathless! Vance’s gorgeous face was so close to her she could feel his breath on her lips.
“So,” he said. Nodding toward Danielle’s bedroom he continued, “Run in there and see if Danielle has some leopard-skin underwear you can borrow…and just get on with your day. Your days in hell with that psycho chick are almost at an end.” He smiled, patted her soundly on one cheek, and moved past her.
“I’m getting a shower, Danny,” he said. “See you after work.”
Boston watched him saunter away—watched the way the muscles in his back moved as he walked.
“You told my brother about your leopard-skin underwear thing?” Danielle giggled with disbelief.
“It was an accident, Danielle,” Boston said.
Boston buried her face in her hands for a moment. She wanted to weep—to sob! Vance was right; she felt as if Stephanie Crittendon had been administering poisonous injections to her soul! She could see it now, the necessity of escape, of not waiting another week to move out. She wondered in that moment how she would make it another day!
But she couldn’t cry, not at only six in the morning and certainly not in front of Vance Nathaniel. Shaking her head and willing her tears to remain in her eyes, she looked up.
“Do you want to shower first?” she asked Danielle.
“No,” Danielle said. “You go ahead.” In the next moment, she was in Danielle’s loving embrace. “I’ll make us some breakfast.” Danielle released her, smiling. “Then we’ll sit down and have a nice quiet moment or two before we head out for the rat race.”
“Danielle,” Boston began, “why did I let myself get into this mess?”
“What matters is you’re getting yourself out of it now.”
Boston nodded. “I’ll hurry,” she said, heading for Danielle’s bathroom.
“Just take whatever you want out of the closet,” Danielle said. “Surely I’ve got something you’ll like.”
Boston paused and turned to Danielle. “You don’t really think she’ll show up tonight, do you?”
Danielle shrugged. “I can’t imagine she really will. But if she does…I can’t imagine Vance will put up with much from her. Dempsey either for that matter.”
“So Dempsey’s free to come over tonight?” Boston asked.
Danielle’s face immediately brightened. “Yeah! He said he didn’t have anything else going on…so he’ll be here!”
Boston smiled. Already she felt better, simply
because Danielle was so obviously excited in anticipating an evening in Dempsey’s company. For a moment, she thought the room brightened. She figured it must be the fact that the sun had risen just a little, spilling light in through the front window.
As Boston passed the front bathroom on the way to the one in Danielle’s bedroom, she smiled. She could hear the water running as Vance showered—could hear his low voice singing an Elvis song. She giggled. Though Vance did a mean Elvis impersonation, it struck her as funny, his singing in the shower.
She sighed. Life would be a bit brighter once she was moved—once Steph could no longer infuse the poisons of hatefulness, cruelty, envy, and angst into Boston’s mind and soul.
As she stepped into the shower—as the warm water instantly began to soothe her rattled nerves—a vision of Vance talking trash to Steph through the cell phone entered her mind. She smiled and tried to scold herself for taking delight in Vance’s implying to Steph that something was going on between him and Boston.
“Logan West,” Boston spoke aloud then. “Tomorrow I get to see Logan.” Closing her eyes, she pulled visions of Logan West to the forefront of her mind—tried to force images of Vance Nathaniel to the corners of her mind—tried and failed.
Chapter Six
“So she asked this guy from work out for tonight…and he said yes,” Boston explained. “It’s as simple as that! You cannot believe how relieved I was to get home and find her note.” Boston frowned, thoughtful. “When’s the last time she missed a Friday night soiree?”