“Ziggy!” they both answered.
Loudly.
“I swear, if you two don’t learn to keep your voices down, I will super glue your lips together while you sleep.” I made to throttle Max half-heartedly, but he ducked before I could get hold of him. “Ziggy is the non-event. He is still grieving. He isn’t even tuned in as far as feelings go.”
“That’s what you think.” Charlie smirked.
“What is that supposed to mean?” I demanded.
Charlie and Max exchanged looks.
My scowl deepened. “What?” I demanded.
“I think his feelings are more switched on than you think,” Charlie said carefully.
“I’d say he’d like to feel you in more ways than one,” Max added in his own less than subtle way.
I rolled my eyes. “You’re both wrong. Ziggy won’t let himself feel, emotionally or otherwise. You don’t know him like I do.”
“Mmmhmm,” Max grinned.
I shook my head. “You’re being ridiculous, and you aren’t helping me.” I gave him a shove. “Why did I have to let people wreck my happy little bubble? I’m not supposed to ever let that much hurt happen to me again, remember?”
“We remember,” Charlie sighed. “We’ve told you time and again that when the time is right, you’ll find somebody you can let in again. You just didn’t want to believe it.”
“And look where that’s left me—falling for someone with more scars than me, who’ll never be ready to let me in.”
“All you see are scars. You need someone to make you see stars,” Max stated with finality.
“That’s very poetic, Max. You should send it to Hallmark,” I groaned.
“It’s good, right?” he beamed.
“And helpful, as always,” I humored.
“Trust me, Trix,” Charlie smiled, bringing me back to the subject. “That boy has serious stars in his eyes for you.”
“I don’t know where you get this crap from. No, I just need to pretend I feel nothing until it goes away.”
“I don’t understand why you can’t just give him time and see what develops.”
“Because nothing will develop except my unrequited feelings, and if I give those time, I’ll be in a million pieces again. Do you want that?”
I knew I was being cruel threatening to break again, but it was a very real possibility.
“You know we don’t want that. But don’t close off again, please,” he said in a whisper.
I knew what I needed to do. I would take Jonathan up on another date. Try to make him understand that I was only looking for friendship right now and hope that it would be enough of a distraction that I’d forget any possibility of Ziggy letting himself love again and just be his friend.
Holy L word! How did that even get into my head?
That decided it.
“I’m going to go out with Jonathan again. You’re right; he’s good for me.” I stood before either of them could respond and left them frowning at each other.
I pulled my phone out of my bag on my way to the spare room and opened my messages with Jonathan.
Me: Hi. How’s your weekend going? I was thinking…do you fancy a drink next week?
I blew out the breath I was holding and stared at my phone for a moment.
Nothing happened. Damnit.
It was hours later, when we were back at the bar watching a live band and laughing more than I can remember having laughed in years, that I finally felt my phone vibrate. On the first buzz, I thought it was just a message, but then it buzzed again, and again, and…
It was ringing. Seriously?
I whipped it from my pocket, planning to simply scowl at it in disbelief. Jonathan’s name was on the screen. God, this guy was an introvert’s worst nightmare.
I could have just ignored it and texted him back in the morning, but I wanted to do this before I chickened out. I quickly moved outside to where the sound of the band was minimized, and my teeth chattered as I answered the call. “Hello?”
“Hey, how’s it going, beautiful Bea?”
“Good. How are you?” It did not feel at all natural to do this with him. Talking on the phone was weird enough with my family.
“Are you having a good time?” he asked, clearly unaware of the awkwardness he had created by being so normal.
“I am.” I shivered. “It’s nice to see everyone. How about you? Up to much?”
“Not really, just deciding what to have for dinner. Exciting times.”
I felt a pang of guilt. “I’m sorry I couldn’t go out tonight. I just really needed to escape home for a bit, you know?”
“It’s fine, Bea; I completely understand. Alone time is important.”
“Yeah, I know,” I replied, cringing because I wasn’t alone. I had brought Ziggy after turning Jonathan down. But what he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him. “It’s doing me good.”
“Excellent.” I could hear the smile in his voice. “So, this drink you suggested…”
I could tell he was about to gloat that having been so resistant to his advances, I was now asking him out, and I wanted to shut him down ASAP. “Well…” I trailed off. I didn’t know how to respond. Perfect. Nice job, Bea.
“Bea, it’s okay to say you want to see me again.” There was no hiding his satisfaction and it irked me.
I had to get in control of this. “Jonathan,” I said cautiously, “I would like to see you again. As friends. If you’d like to, I mean.”
A smug pause was followed by a soft chuckle. “I would love to see you again, Bea.”
I fought the urge to remind him that he had left out the as friends part of his reply. It felt like I was objecting too much.
The door to the bar swung open, and the blast of music and bar noise travelled down the phone to him. “Where are you?”
“I’m at my friend’s bar. My brother-in-law runs it with her.”
“Sounds crazy there. Would I know it?”
“I doubt it,” I said slightly defensively.
“Shame, it sounds like fun. I could have joined you.”
“I—” I had no idea how to handle that. I didn’t want him here. I know I decided to see him again, but not here. Not now.
“It’s okay. Don’t panic. You need some family time, and I wouldn’t intrude.”
Thank fuck. “Yeah,” I replied weakly.
“There you are, Sparkles!” Ziggy said loudly over the music as he stuck his head out of the door. “I thought I’d lost you.”
“Is Ziggy with you?” Jonathan demanded.
I faltered. “Um, yes.” I held up two fingers to Ziggy, indicating I would be back in a couple of minutes.
“I see,” Jonathan said crisply.
Ziggy nodded hesitantly and glanced around me before leaving me to my conversation.
“He wasn’t supposed to come, but his—” I stopped myself. I wasn’t about to say why he was here, but I felt the need to offer something. “His plans changed, and he came along.”
“Interesting,” was all he said. A tense silence followed.
“Is it?” I asked feebly.
“I think so. You claim you haven’t known him that long, but he comes with you to visit your family. I think that’s interesting. Don’t you?”
“I haven’t known him that long. I met him the same day I met you.” Shit, I didn’t want to tell him that, but I had to defend myself.
“You’re joking?” Jonathan spat.
“Um, no.”
He laughed mirthlessly, and I couldn’t understand why he sounded annoyed.
“Are you sleeping with him?”
“What? No, I told you. It’s nothing like that.” I was angry, not just for being doubted, but on Ziggy’s behalf. Whether I agreed with his methods or not, it was very important to Ziggy to be seen as living a cloistered life. He would be mortified if people thought we’d been together when there was nothing at all between us.
Jonathan huffed. “Yeah, okay, but you’ve got to see
that he wants to.”
“I don’t see that, Jonathan, because he doesn’t. Honestly, if you knew him like I do, you’d realise.”
“Like you do? Bea, you’ve known him five minutes. You don’t think like a man. Trust me, he’s trying to get in your knickers.”
“And you’re not?” I snarled. The bloody nerve. I was so annoyed I didn’t even think to contradict his assumption.
“At least I’ve been perfectly up front about my intentions from the beginning. He’s slyly playing the friend game to get around your no-dating rules.”
“You’ve got it all wrong.”
“I doubt it.”
I exhaled. This was getting us nowhere fast, and I was freezing cold. “Look, I’m going to go.”
“Sure, whatever,” he muttered.
I paused, not knowing what to say, and when it came down to it, I just went with a lame, “Bye, then.”
He hung up without another word, and I was left standing there like a fool.
“Tough phone call?” Danny, Liv’s husband, asked knowingly from behind me. He was out collecting empties from the mostly deserted smoking area. The cold was keeping all the sane patrons inside.
I laughed sourly. “That obvious?”
“Kinda,” he shrugged, piling glasses into the deep-sided tray on his hip. “Wanna talk about it?” his American accent deleting consonants left and right, but I loved the way it sounded.
I groaned in exasperation. “I wouldn’t know where to start. Life used to be simple, but things just got so complicated lately, and I’m not handling it all that well.”
Danny smiled knowingly. “Yeah, well, that happens when you like someone. Turns your whole world upside down. Few years ago, my life was simple, then bam! Next thing you know, I’m moving here, and now I’ve got all these amazing complications around me.”
“I don’t think Liv would want to hear you call her a complication,” I chuckled.
“Please, she knows she’s the biggest one, and I’m hers. That’s how relationships are.” He smiled fondly at some memory or other and shrugged. “You know you’ve found the one when dealing with the complication becomes more appealing than making it go away.”
“And what happens if your ‘complication’ isn’t ever going to be interested in being dealt with?”
Danny looked at me quizzically for a moment, and then the knowing smile returned to his lips.
“Never say never, Trixie.”
Why was everybody so exasperating? Have they always been like this, or is it because they all smell blood simply because I’ve finally come out of my emotional coma?
“Sure, Danny, whatever you say.”
He was crazy good looking, even I could admit that, but he was just as annoying as my brother at times.
Men!
Just at that moment, the door opened again, and Ziggy shot out, looking concerned. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” I was confused by his worry for a moment until I recalled the last time we were outside a bar together and realised that he was always going to be on alert in a situation like this, even if I was in very familiar surroundings with family and friends nearby. “Sorry, I’m coming in now.”
He looked concerned; I wasn’t exactly masking my lack of enthusiasm. Jonathan really knew how to throw a bucket of water on a good night out.
Ziggy held out his hand, and I took it, immediately feeling more connected to my surroundings. He laced his fingers between mine, and I marvelled in his ability to offer comfort without worrying how it would seem. He was easy, just being a friend, and he was pretty good at it for someone who was even more closed off than I was.
An impish grin from Liv was enough to have me pulling my hand back on the pretence of picking up the fresh drink that someone had got me in my absence. Ziggy was undeterred, however, and his arm draped casually across my shoulders as he fell back into easy conversation with my brother.
I gulped the mojito too fast. His touch searing into my skin, I couldn’t focus on anything but where our bodies made contact. Ziggy remained unaffected and laughed at Charlie’s anecdote. I didn’t know how I was going to survive sharing a bed with him. Things were so much worse than the last time. Admitting to Max that Ziggy and I were already comfortable with sharing had been bad enough, but it was going to be torture if he wanted to cuddle again.
Chapter Eighteen
Mel approached my desk looking puzzled. “I was asked to give you this, but I swear if it’s anthrax, I’m going to be pissed. I have a lot to do today.” She placed a white Starbucks cup and a small fruit pot on my desk and wrinkled her nose.
I simply stared at it. It had been three days since the phone call with Jonathan at the bar. Was this an apology? If I was being honest, I had assumed he was done. I think I maybe hoped he was. I wasn’t cut out for all of this nonsense, and I was kidding myself if I thought I could pretend. So, when he didn’t call or text, I was okay with that.
But here he was again.
“I’ll assume you didn’t order them?”
I shook my head. “Who…?” I looked past her half expecting to see him standing there.
“The Parcel Express guy. He was paid a giant tip to bring them up with our other packages.”
I nodded faintly in understanding, and we both looked at the coffee cup like it would tell us something.
“What are we all looking at?” Ziggy asked as he came to join us. He halted when he saw what it was. “O-kaay, not what I expected. What is it?” He picked up the cup and looked it over, sniffing near the opening.
“A flat white,” I murmured.
Ziggy wrinkled his nose and placed it back on the desk. “And we’re staring at it because?”
“It was delivered for Bea.”
Ziggy frowned. “By whom?”
“It’s from Jonathan,” I told him reluctantly.
“I see,” he replied tightly. “…No, actually, I don’t. Why is he sending you coffee?” He poked at the cup with a look of disdain. “More to the point, why is he sending you this coffee?”
“He thinks it’s what I order.” I shook my head at how stupid it was all getting. “It’s what I got that day we met. Remember? I threw it on you. I ordered it because this genius,” I gestured to Mel, “told me to act like a grown up for once, and I figured I couldn’t very well order a Frappuccino with cream and caramel when I was acting like a grown up, so this happened,” I gestured at the coffee. “The problem is that he was getting the same, or at least he said he was. It was his icebreaker, and he’s been playing it off like fate that we have the same coffee order ever since.”
Ziggy erupted in a kind of crazed laughter. Mel turned and shot him an incredulous look.
“What’s so funny?” I asked.
“Nothing, no. It’s just…he thinks…and that’s how…sorry, no, nothing.” He got himself under control, leaving me none the wiser to his outburst. “Why did he have it delivered, though? Was it beneath him to bring it up personally?”
I didn’t miss the sneer as he said it. “We had a…kind of…fight.”
“What? When?”
“At the weekend, when we were at Lady Luck’s.”
“And you didn’t tell me?” He looked affronted. “What were you fighting about?”
Mel just watched us back and forth with interest.
“It isn’t important,” I told him firmly. There was no way I was telling him what Jonathan said.
“He obviously thinks it is if he’s gone out of his way to send you your ‘favourite’ coffee, which makes up for everything.”
He used air quotes around the word favourite, and I had to stifle a laugh. “It wasn’t anything, really, just a difference of opinion. I think this is his way of saying sorry.”
“Hmm,” Ziggy mused.
“Hmm?” I queried.
“Yes, hmm,” was all he replied before returning to his desk.
“I thought you wanted me to look at something?”
“It can wait,” he called. �
��You don’t want to let your favourite coffee get cold.”
I watched him for a moment, clueless.
“What the—?” Mel began.
“I have no idea,” I replied under my breath, still watching Ziggy closely. He was back into his work and not looking this way.
“Weird. So, what are you going to do about this?” She pointed at the offending coffee.
“I’ll deal with it,” I told her, effectively dismissing her. I really wasn’t in the mood for her interference. She already knew too much. She was going to be all over this if I wasn’t careful.
I had to decide how to proceed with Jonathan. Saturday night had shown me a different side to him, a less patient, more realistic side. Did I really want to deal with that when I wasn’t even remotely capable of normal yet? I glanced at Ziggy again. Or was it exactly what I needed?
I picked up my phone and typed.
Me: Thank you for the coffee.
Jonathan: My pleasure. I didn’t think you’d want to come down and hear how sorry I am in person, so I thought I’d save you the trouble. I’m sorry, beautiful. I let the green-eyed monster get the better of me, and there’s no excuse.
I frowned. Damn. Accepting full responsibility without excuses…there was no way to counter that. It was down to me. Forgive or don’t forgive. Ugh!
I stared at my phone. I was not going to tell him it was okay. It wasn’t okay. But it was impossible not to give him credit for his admission.
Me: I’m glad you see it that way. You’re wrong about Ziggy. He’s my best friend. That’s all.
Jonathan: Okay, like I said, I’m sorry. I like you, and I want to get to know you better and spend more time with you. I hope you’ll give me another chance.
I thought it over for a moment. It felt like the perfect time to bow out if I was going to. I should tell him I wasn’t interested in a relationship and wish him well, but the conversations from the weekend were still playing on my mind.
Me: I enjoy your company, Jonathan.
I didn’t know what else to say.
Jonathan: Would you agree to enjoy my company at a party this weekend?
Oh lord.
Me: What kind of party?
Jonathan: The cocktail kind. The parent publishers of my imprint is having its annual birthday cocktail party, and I get to bring a plus one. It’s a free bar, and they spare no expense on canapés. It’s usually pretty fun.
Lucky Scars Page 15