Never Tied Down (The Never Duet #2)(16)

I made it to my truck, climbed in, and started the engine, blasting the heater. The windows fogged a little, showing the age of my truck, so I sat and leaned my head against the back of the cab.

Kalli was here. In LA. Working on the same studio lot as me.

Most of me wanted to be really happy about the news I’d learned, but the majority found a way to be crushed instead. My mind thought back to the coffee shop that afternoon, remembered what I’d seen of her, just the golden trail of her long blonde hair falling down her back against the denim jacket she was wearing. I’d seen, poking out from under the table, a little brown high-heeled boot on her foot, and that image alone sparked hundreds I had stored inside my brain. Memories I’d only allowed myself to ponder in deep moments of complete masochism.

I remembered her blue eyes staring down at me, her hair making a veil around us as she hovered, both of us naked, me inside of her, watching as she moved. The pink of her lips matching the exact shade of her cheeks, her creamy skin with a hint of the flush caused by her arousal.

My eyes drifted closed as I remembered the way she felt wrapped around me, how her heat enveloped me, spurred me on, and made me lose control on more than one occasion. Sex with Kalli was addictive and she was so receptive to being taken, it was difficult to be around her and not simply want to take.

My dick grew hard as I sat in the parking lot of my job, and the realization that I was hitting a new low washed over me. I wanted her so badly, but it seemed I was the last thing she was interested in. My hands gripped the steering wheel and I watched my knuckles turn white. How stupid could I have been? She’d pushed me away months ago and I was still hanging on to hope that her rejection was only temporary. Fuck me. I swiped my hands down my face roughly, threw the truck in reverse, and hauled ass out of that parking lot. I aimed my truck at the bar down the street from my apartment, planning to walk home when I was good and drunk.





Chapter Six


Be Invisible


Kalli

I’d developed a routine since arriving in LA. I went to work and stayed on set when possible, ignoring my desire to explore the studio lot. I was afraid if I wandered, I’d wander right into Riot. Therefore, in an effort to avoid such an instance, I stayed on set or at the Coffee Bean right next to my soundstage.

I knew it was ridiculous. I knew eventually I’d run into him and things would be awkward. But I was willing to postpone the painful experience as long as possible. So I kept to my private studio, the set, and the Coffee Bean. When the day was finished I hauled it back to the studio apartment I’d rented.

November had brought some unusual rain to LA, so I was run-walking all the way into the coffee shop and didn’t stop at the register to order. Instead, I headed directly to my table, which was usually empty because people on a studio lot in LA weren’t there to sit and have a relaxing cup of coffee. People ordered to go and left with as much haste as they came in with.

I dropped my bag on the chair and shook out my coat, and only when I lifted my eyes to the tabletop did I see the piece of paper folded up and lying flat atop it. The paper had my name scrawled across it and I knew it was his handwriting.

I picked it up, then looked around. My eyes darted around the coffee shop, wondering if he was inside, or just outside. If he was watching me at that moment, or was someplace far away. My hands started to tremble, knowing that if I saw him I just might lose my composure. I wasn’t ready to face him yet. Somewhere in the back of my mind it occurred to me that he must have known that, which was why he left me a note but didn’t stick around to watch me read it.

I sat down, holding the paper in my hands, wondering if I had the will to even open it or not. I hadn’t opened a single card that came with the flowers. I knew myself. I knew that if I opened the note, whatever was written inside would alter me. Would affect me. No matter what the note said, it would change me. I also knew myself well enough to know I wasn’t over him. Sure, I was better off than I had been weeks ago, but there was a part of me that believed I would never truly be able to move past him. So his note would either break me by telling me to move on, or force me to take action by telling me he wasn’t over me either. I wasn’t comfortable with either one of those scenarios.

No, I liked the smooth sailing I’d encountered since moving to LA.

I went to work, I did my job, I went home. Wash, rinse, repeat.

Knowing Riot had been here, been right at this table, jostled something inside of me, and I found the courage to open the paper. My eyes drifted over the paper, catching single, insignificant words, then hopped around some more until I finally closed them, took a breath, and started reading the note from the beginning.




Kalli,

I saw you sitting at this table one day, and I’ve seen you almost every day since. I know why you sit in the back, facing away from the door, not near any windows, and I’ve tried to respect that. I’ve tried to allow you the invisibility you’re obviously looking for. So, every day I come to this coffee shop, I take in the sight of you, and then I leave you to the solitary bubble you’ve created.

I get it.

I don’t know if you knew I worked here or not, but, in case you didn’t—I work here. Just on the next lot over, actually. It didn’t take me long to figure out where you worked after I saw you, so I imagine it couldn’t have been hard for you to find out the same information about me. That only leads me to believe you knew I worked here but were trying to avoid me.