Space (Laws of Physics #2)(6)

“Are you okay?” I dipped my head to one side, hoping that would encourage her to meet my eyes, hoping she’d let me take care of her.

Someone to take care of, someone to take care of me.

I couldn’t shake those words. Spending time with Lisa, they resonated in a new way, one that was 3-D and in color, with softness and wonder and not just black ink written on a white notebook page.

She didn’t meet my eyes, instead speaking to my forearms. “You have been very nice to me. Thank you. This is a difficult time, and I’m going through a lot, so I’m sorry if I’ve been acting weird.”

As she spoke, I felt a chill. Something was . . . wrong. Her voice continued to hit the wrong note over and over.

Mystified, I said, “No need to apologize. You haven’t been acting weird until just now.”

Her eyes cut to mine and I started, flinching back and standing. What the hell? The chill became a sense of freezing dread I couldn’t explain. Something was most definitely wrong. I couldn’t identify the problem, but there was a problem.

“. . . Lisa?” I asked like a fool, but—seriously—what the hell? This wasn’t her. Her eyes were different. Not the shape or color or size, and yet unquestionably different. Lisa was there, but she also wasn’t, like she’d been possessed. Or she was absent. It was freaky as hell.

Her eyes widened for the briefest of seconds, and then her lips flattened, her gaze moving to the closed magazine. She picked it up. She stood from the stool, glaring at the wall behind me, looking irritated and therefore the closest to acting like herself since I’d walked in.

“Look.” Her voice was hard but also soft, quiet; I prepared myself for a whisper since she was visibly upset; an odd quirk I’d noticed about her, when she was upset, she always whispered. “Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“Pretending like you care about me.” Her gaze fell to the floor and she sounded angry, but not at all hurt.

Were we playing this game again? The Push Abram Away Game? I didn’t like games. I had a low tolerance and I’d never put up with them. Maybe it wasn’t true for everyone, but I couldn’t keep the wonder while also fucking around and playing games.

I made too much of things, I gave words too much weight, I searched for meaning where none existed. For me, there was no such thing as casual friends; you were my good friend, or you were an acquaintance. Likewise, there was no such thing as a meaningless hookup. An action, a touch was sacred, or it wasn’t. Maybe that’s why Leo thought I wasn’t jaded? Because I didn’t play games?

But with Lisa, I seemed to have an infinite reserve of patience that extended to game playing. Even when she was sour, she was still so intoxicatingly sweet, it was like being caught in a web of cotton candy.

So instead of giving into the building apprehension—even though she did sound off—I said, “Pretending.”

She needed to push me away again? Okay. I could give her space. As long as later today, when she came to her senses, she also came to the pool, wearing that white bikini.

“Yes, pretending,” Lisa said, her tone hard. “Gabby is my best friend, remember? She has my back.”

“What are you talking about?” I needed to keep my head, but it wasn’t just her words that unsettled me, or how she wasn’t meeting my eyes. She was speaking to me like we were strangers.

Lisa gave her eyes a half roll. “You’re a player, Abram. So whatever act this is, drop it.”

The accusation angered me, and therefore distracted me from the discordant tone in her voice. Needing space was one thing. But believing and then spouting lies was another.

“This isn’t an act.” I tried to conceal the spike of temper by lowering my voice.

“Yeah. Right.”

“And I don’t know what Gabby told you, but she is misinformed.” But obviously Lisa trusted her, and that had a shot of adrenaline clouding my vision.

“Okay. Sure. She just imagined the depth and breadth of your harem at gigs?”

Is that what this is about? I relaxed a little, breathing out. “Come on Lisa, this is nuts. I have female fans, yes. But I’m not dating any of them. Do you honestly think—”

“You don’t date anyone. You just flirt with everyone and lead them on.”

“I absolutely do not.” Fucking Gabby. I could strangle her for filling Lisa’s head with this shit.

She crossed her arms and shrugged. “I don’t, for one minute, think that I’m special to you. Sure, whatever, we’ll be friends, fine. But can you be cool and cut the act?”

She doesn’t think . . . ? Was I hearing her correctly? How could she possibly think that?

The adrenaline returned, full force. “Then you’re wrong, because you are special to me. And what happened last night was special, and dammit Lisa—would you listen?”

She’d turned and marched away. I reached for her arm, which she shook off. I let go immediately and stepped back. I shouldn’t have touched her. Shit, I knew that. But I couldn’t just let her believe Gabby’s lies.

Knowing I’d fucked up, I pushed my fingers through my hair and tried to calm down. “Here is the truth: I have all sorts of fans, both male and female. They like my music, they come to my shows, maybe they like me. I don’t know, I haven’t asked them. I don’t hang out with my fans and I don’t lead people on, I don’t flirt. The only thing Gabby told you that’s true is this: I do not date. If you don’t believe me, ask Leo.”