You Can't Catch Me(46)

But he’s already hung up. I stop walking and some sweaty guy in a suit slams into my shoulder.

“Hey!” he says. “I’m walking here.”

I flip him the bird. Maybe when all this is over, I’ll move somewhere else. Somewhere less aggressive.

I look at my phone as if it might hold the answers to why Liam called me. And why he suddenly seems to have a problem with Covington. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he sounded jealous.

“Ha!” I say out loud.

“What’s your problem, lady?” says another red-faced man in a suit.

It’s definitely time to leave this city.

The plan is to meet Covington at Fiddlesticks, which gives me enough time to change clothes and take a cooling shower. The train smell clings to my clothes, and I toss them into the dirty-clothes hamper with a grimace. My roommates have reverted back to their natural state in my absence: there are dirty dishes in the sink and fruit flies hovering over some half-finished toast and jam sitting on the counter.

I start to pick it up, then stop. I’ll deal with it later.

When I get to the bar, Covington’s sitting on the same stool I was on when Liam found me there—was that only a week ago? It seems like forever and a day. His clothing is loose and comfortable and a weird collection of things that don’t match. Cargo shorts in a dark-purple color, an orange plaid short-sleeve shirt that could keep someone from getting shot out in the woods in hunting season, and a knit cap slung low on the back of his head.

He pulls me in for a big hug.

“You smell like a pine forest,” he says.

“Jeez, thanks. I showered and everything.”

I sit on the stool next to him and signal to the bartender for a beer. He gives me a thumbs-up; I guess I’ve been coming in here more often than I thought.

“You need more than a shower to get the stench of the Land of Todd off you.”

My head spins toward him. “How did you . . . Liam told you he took me there, didn’t he?”

“Maybe yes, maybe no.”

“Stuff it.”

“Okay, yes.”

“Did he tell you why?”

He shrugs. “Some shit about healing or letting go. You know how Liam is.”

“Yeah.”

“He wanted me to go up there too. Thought it might do me some good.”

“That right? Liam’s being a bit weird lately.”

“How so?”

I meet Covington’s eyes in the mirror. My face is flushed. Cov’s a good-looking guy, but I’ve never thought about him romantically.

“He maybe thinks there’s something going on between you and me.”

Covington starts to laugh.

“What?” I say. “Hey. It’s not that funny.”

He shakes his head and composes himself. “No, no, it’s not that.”

“What, then?”

“Liam doesn’t think there’s something going on between us.”

“How do you know?”

“Because he knows I’m with Daisy.”

“Well, maybe he thinks I have a crush on you—he keeps acting funny when you come up.”

The bartender comes over with my beer. I’m thinking about downing it in one long gulp like I used to do at frat parties as a party trick.

“Put that on my tab,” Cov says.

“No, what? I got it.”

“My tab. I insist.”

“Fine. Whatever. In that case, I’ll take a menu too.”

The bartender nods and goes to fetch it for me. I flash back to the other night in the bar with Jessie. That stunt we pulled. Liam would be livid.

“Don’t take advantage,” Covington says.

I feel a shiver of guilt. “I wasn’t planning on it. Like I said, I can pay my own way.”

I hold up the menu and point to the calamari plate. It’s a thousand million calories, but I feel like I need some fat in my system to cushion the blow. The bartender nods again and punches in the order.

Covington drums his fingers on the bar. “That woman, that other Jessica, she took all your money, right?”

“Pretty much.”

“And you haven’t gotten another job?”

“True.”

“Probably pretty hard to do that with this new plagiarism thing, I bet.”

I pick up the beer and start to drink. It slides down easily, but I stop after a few swallows. I couldn’t eat that terrible train food, and my stomach is beyond empty.

“I’m guessing.”

“Any idea how that happened?”

“I have a few.”

“You are kind of channeling Liam right now, you know that?”

“Sorry.”

“And if Liam’s acting weird when you bring me up, it’s because he’s jealous.”

“What? No.”

“Oh, come on. Everyone knows he’s had a thing for you for years.”

“Years?”

I look at myself in the glass behind the bar. It’s been a while since I gave myself a good look. I don’t see anything special. I never have.

Is what Covington’s saying true? How do I even process this?

“Don’t worry, it’s not like we talk about it on a regular basis or anything.”