Unspoken (Shadow Falls: After Dark #3)(92)

“Out.” She had her phone in her hands. She planned to text Holiday and tell her she was going out for coffee with Steve, right before she walked out of the gate. She’d rather ask for forgiveness than permission. And who’d said that to her? A certain vampire who’d skipped out on her!

“You seeing Chase?” Miranda asked and Kylie looked up from the computer.

“Did he apologize?” Kylie asked.

Della had confessed to them last night about Chase’s little tantrum. But she hadn’t mentioned his moving out. Who wanted to admit you were an idiot? And that’s what she’d been. Believing in Chase. Believing he really loved her.

“No.” He didn’t apologize. Della felt bad, or at least a little bad, about hiding her excursion tonight, but she knew Kylie was one of those non–rule breakers and she’d try to talk her out of going. Or at least try to convince her to tell Burnett.

Della didn’t want to chance that he would have a problem with it. Nope. She knew it wasn’t exactly legal. But this was to help her father.

“No, I’m going with Steve to grab some coffee.” And it wasn’t a lie, because she’d told Steve they had to so that she wouldn’t have to lie.

Della heard both her friends’ little gasps of surprise.

“With Steve?” Miranda asked.

“See ya.” Della started out.

“Not so fast,” Kylie said, after having shot across the room and blocked the front door. “What’s going on?”

“We’re going for coffee, that’s what’s going on.”

“Is she lying?” Miranda asked Kylie. “Get your vamp on and find out.”

Frowning at the witch, Della said, “Bye, guys. I won’t be late.” She gently picked up Kylie by her shoulders and set her away from the door.

Then suddenly sentimental, she was tempted to blurt out, I love you, or thank you for being here. But she couldn’t find the words. So she just left.

*

Della followed Steve into the coffee shop, right around the corner of St. Mary’s hospital. She was instantly hit by the smell of freshly ground coffee beans. How could something smell so good, but taste so bad? She moved with Steve up to the empty counter and tried to decide if she wanted to “fake drink” something, or if she really had to with Steve. He knew she hated coffee.

Steve gave the girl his order.

“And you?” the girl asked.

“Nothing,” Della answered, but then her eyes lowered to the bakery stuff under the glass counter. Her heart dropped a few inches. They tasted like love, Chase had said.

“Wait,” she said as the lady started to turn. “I’ll take a snickerdoodle cookie.”

“I’ve never seen you eat sweets,” Steve said.

“Is it against the law for me to want one now?” she snapped and wanted to die for being such a bitch.

Ding. Ding. Ding. The awkward bells started ringing again. She was going to have to stop those damn bells. But the only way was to have that talk Steve had been pushing her to have.

Not now.

Really bad timing. How did you tell someone helping you, Oh, by the way, you know how I said I love you? Well, I don’t really love-love you.

And yeah, that was what she needed to tell him. It didn’t matter what was happening with Chase. The fact was, she didn’t love-love Steve and he deserved someone who did. He was a great guy.

The woman put the cookie in a bag on the counter, and Della reached for some money.

“I got it,” Steve said.

“No, uh, I’m buying it and I’m buying yours, too.”

“No, I can…”

“You’re helping me.” Della threw a twenty-dollar bill on the counter. “Keep the change,” she told the girl. Then she went and found a corner table.

Steve walked over a few minutes later with a steaming cup of good-smelling, bitter-tasting stuff and a slice of cake.

“Thanks,” he said.

She nodded and reached for a napkin, suddenly wishing she had bought a coffee just to have something to keep her hands busy. But then again, she had the cookie. She glanced at it, still in the bag.

She looked up, and his soft brown eyes met hers. Not now. She glanced away.

Then Steve reached for her cookie. He had it halfway across the table when she put her hand on top of his and stopped him.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing, I was going to try a bite.”

“No.”

He looked odd. “Okay.”

Ding. Ding. Ding.

She pulled the cookie back to her side of the table.

She glanced up. “I don’t love you,” she blurted out. Oh, friggin’ hell, why had she done that?

Steve had his cup to his lips. Her words must have shocked him because he apparently swallowed wrong. Coffee spewed out of his mouth, and … maybe even his nose. So not pretty.

Then he went from spewing to hacking.

“Shit,” she muttered and handed him her napkin.

He took it and put it to his lips.

“Sorry,” she said as he turned his face away and used the napkin to clean off his face.

When he turned back, he had tears in his eyes. Surely it was from the hacking and not … Let it be from the hacking. Please!

He met her gaze and then … then laughed. Real deep, belly-type of laughing.