Trust(56)

“Get away from me with your logic,” I pouted.

She held up a cushion. “Sky, arctic, or cornflower?”

“Pale-ish light blue?” My brows rose in question. “I don’t know. Let’s just do this damn thing.”

“Right on.” Carefully, she arranged it on a shelf. “So I shouldn’t tell you about the field party Anders said is happening tonight?”

“No. Best not to.”

She looked up at me from beneath her lashes. “Do you mind if I go? I mean, it’s just . . . you know how Anders gets. The idiot will be texting me every other minute if I don’t make an appearance. For some reason he’s decided I’m fun to have around.”

“Absolutely, you should go. I’m sorry to be such a loser and bailing on you. It’s just going to take me a while before I can go near John without imagining him with no pants on. I need to stay away from him,” I said with great conviction. “At least for a little while.”

With a big sigh, she nodded. “Honestly, Edie, that might be for the best.”





With another attempt at the book in the new fantasy series, a pint of chocolate-chip cookie dough ice cream, and the starry sky overhead, I had my own Saturday-night party for one. It was perfect. Mom had said she was going out with some friends from work, but I don’t know. Something was going on with her. Something that, I’m pretty sure, caused hickeys. At any rate, I had the house to myself. Ah, silence, peace, and serenity. I’d forgotten how good being in your own sacred space could be.

I wasn’t missing John at all. And I was absolutely not imagining that the hero in the book resembled him, because that would be wrong and directly contrary to what I was trying to achieve. Though it did sort of help with my focus issues.

“Hey.”

I screeched, heart hammering inside my chest. A familiar size-and-shaped shadow stood outside my open window.

“John,” I said, breathing just a wee bit quickly. Honestly, you’d think I’d be getting used to his sudden appearances by now. “Holy shit.”

“Saw your bedroom light on, figured I’d just come around.”

“Of course you did.” I set aside my book, shuffling over to the far side of my bed as he climbed up to sit on my window ledge. “Thought you’d be at the field party.”

“Could say the same of you.”

Guilt hit me hard. “First day of work, I was kind of tired. You know. Had a bit of a headache from all of the stupid scented candles.”

Head cocked, he nodded. Blue jeans and white shirt, his hair tied back into a ponytail. The cut of his cheekbones cast stark shadows on his face.

“Yeah, it was big, real busy,” I said, blathering on. “You know, napkin rings and cushions and stuff. Lots of necessary household items.”

“Right.”

I smiled.

He didn’t. “Want to tell me why you’ve been avoiding me, Edie?”

“I haven—”

“Don’t!”

I stopped. The tone of his voice didn’t encourage debate. And yet. “John, I get that you’re upset. But if you raise your voice at me again I’ll push you out the fucking window. Understood?”

For a second his eyelids squeezed shut, searching for control or something. “Sorry. But I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t lie to me, Edie.”

“Okay.” I took a deep breath. “All right.”

“What’s going on?”

I bit my lip and studied my hands, fingers twisted together in my lap. “Things have just gotten a bit weird for me. I just, I’ve been trying to deal with them, is all. Get them sorted out inside my head.”

“What things?”

“You things.”

His face was like stone. “This is about us fucking, isn’t it?”

I flinched. “Yes.”

“Dammit, Edie. It’s just sex. It didn’t mean anything.”

Deep down inside, a small and hopefully insignificant part of me died. Some dumb hope that should never have existed in the first place. “I know. I’m screwing things up. I’m sorry.”

“We talked about exactly this before we did it. Why would you even get confused?”

“I don’t know,” I cried. “I’m sorry, my feelings sometimes do their own thing. They don’t always wait for permission. They’re funny like that.”

He huffed and puffed and swore some more. “This is why you ignored my text the other night. I am always there for you when you need me.”

“You’re right; that was extraordinarily crappy of me. I’m sorry.” My stomach turned, a sour taste on my tongue. “Though it’s not like you have problems finding company if you really want it.”

His eyes glinted cold. “I didn’t need someone to fuck, I needed a friend. You.”

Then he turned to go, jumping down from my windowsill in one smooth move.

“Wait. Wait!” I cried, throwing myself across the bed and hanging out the window. “John, don’t go.”

The shadow of him hesitated.

“I shouldn’t have said that.” The window ledge dug into my belly. “It was bitchy and unnecessary.”

“Yeah, it was.”