Indigo Nights (Nights #3)(36)

She was having to jog to keep up with me. “Did you know we were just on the same plane?”

I allowed myself a look. I longed to brush my thumb over that beauty spot on her cheek. My stomach tumbled. If only she wasn’t so goddamn beautiful.

“Stop a second.” She pulled me to the side of the throng of people making their way down the long corridor. I breathed in her sweet smell, unable to resist her. “Hey. It’s good to see you.” Her eyes narrowed as though she wanted to ask me a question. I knew how she felt.

I glanced around to see if the guy she was with was around, and found him emerging from the restroom. I looked back at her. “I have to go.” I twisted my arm, setting me free, and I turned and continued up the corridor.

My heart thundered and even though I was in an airport surrounded by noise and activity, I couldn’t see anything but her lips and her questioning eyes. How had I let her get under my skin? I’d told myself I’d never let that happen again. Beth wasn’t Alicia, and I hadn’t let my feelings for Beth get too far. It was a good reminder why I had the boundaries I did.

I didn’t do feelings.

I didn’t do vulnerable.

And I no longer did Beth Harrison.



Beth

I was grateful Jake had arranged for a car to pick us up from the airport; I wasn’t sure I could stand in line without my legs collapsing from under me. I’d watched, baffled, as Dylan disappeared into the crowd. He’d seemed cold and angry. Had something happened at work? Had business in London gone badly?

The gnawing in my stomach after my encounter with Dylan was a reminder of why I hadn’t dated. It felt like a mixture of guilt and shame with a hefty smattering of disappointment. I was used to him grinning at me, unable to keep his hands to himself. It was a shock to have him be so unfamiliar.

“You get in and I’ll deal with the bags,” Jake said. My brother was the last person I could talk to about Dylan’s weird demeanor. I was pretty sure that although he wanted me to date, if any man ever put a foot wrong, best-case scenario Jake would tell me to move on. Worst-case, he’d kill the guy. How was I going to explain that we weren’t even dating—we were just having casual sex? That was never going to go down well with my brother.

I hadn’t expected to hear from Dylan before my trip back to Chicago, but we’d texted a lot—almost every day. He’d even called me, although I was pretty sure that was because he’d wanted me to get him off. I suppose it was kind of a compliment. I doubt he had problems finding willing volunteers for that particular job.

I’d found myself looking forward to hearing from him, to sharing parts of my day. He was meant to be an easy one-night stand, but things had begun to grow between us. But seeing him a few minutes ago—it had been as if we were strangers, as if he felt nothing. He must have known we’d be on the same flight, but he’d clearly made no effort to find me, and when I’d bumped into him, he’d acted as if he wanted to be anywhere but talking to me. I didn’t get it.

“You okay?” Jake joined me in the back of the town car.

“Yeah. Men are such odd creatures.”

Jake chuckled. “Any particular thing sparked this thinking?”

I shrugged. “I’m just tired, I guess.” I held my phone in my hands, willing Dylan to text and everything to be as it had been.

Why should I have to wait for him? I shouldn’t question and ruminate; I shouldn’t assume I was the problem. I didn’t want to feel wronged, like a victim. If he was mad then he’d have to tell me. I wasn’t going to assume. I typed out a text.

Beth: It was good to see you earlier. Looking forward to tonight.

I’d been looking forward to seeing him but the butterflies in my stomach had been replaced with molasses. I wasn’t ready for my one-night stand with Dylan to be over.



I walked out into the crisp Chicago air, my hair taking off in the wind as if gravity had deserted us. It was official. I had a TV show. Or a bit of one at least. Though, I probably shouldn’t have signed the contract with WCIL TV without an agent. Or a lawyer, or both, but I had. It felt right to take the risk.

I’d gone straight from the studio to an AA meeting a few blocks from the hotel. Meetings always grounded me, and I’d needed it after signing on to do six Saturday morning slots on A Chicago Saturday. They’d agreed I could film them all in advance so I didn’t have to fly over each week. I couldn’t have been more delighted. The experience would be fun and, more than that, it felt as if I were cashing a paycheck for the nearly four years I’d spent baking my way to sobriety. Almost as if the universe were patting me on the back and rewarding me for a job well done.

I checked my phone. Still no response from Dylan. I turned right onto Wabash and a gust of wind almost toppled me over. I’d forgotten how unrelenting Chicago’s weather could be.

As I entered the bright, high-ceilinged lobby of the hotel, I squinted to see if I could spot Dylan at the bar, waiting for me like he had been before, but there was no sign of him.

Perhaps I should just take the hint. My meeting had talked about how we couldn’t control the behavior of others, only our reaction to it. It could have been a sign to accept that Dylan was done with me and I’d never know why. That we were only ever meant to be the casual thing it started off as. Perhaps I’d assumed a little too much, and missed the signs that he wasn’t interested. But why had he kept in daily contact with me while I was in London if he didn’t want anything to do with me? I could bring myself to believe that he’d not realized we were on the same flight, but his reaction to seeing me said there was more going on in his head than he’d let on.