Love Beyond Words (City Lights, #1)(28)

“What happened to New Year’s?” Marshall wondered. “Came and went. Just like that.”

Liberty sighed. “Yeah, it sucked.”

“I was stuck at this ridiculous party in Newark, New Jersey for god’s sake.” Marshall punctuated his words with a sloshing cocktail. “And this guy, an ex-cast member of Rent, plants one on me at midnight. I said, ‘Honey, just because we’re the only two gay men in Newark doesn’t mean we have go and make some sort of statement.”

Liberty scowled. “So you socked him one?”

“Oh, no, we made out like bandits,” Marshall said. “You have to remember, I was in Newark for god’s sake.”

“And what about you, Lib?” Natalie asked. “Kiss anyone?”

“I don’t kiss and tell, New Year’s or not.”

“That would be a ‘no’,” Marshall said.

“Shut up.”

Natalie toyed with her swizzle stick until she realized her friends had gone silent and were watching her. “What?”

“Spill it, girl,” Liberty said. “What’s with the manic depression?”

“What…What do you mean?”

“Until, like, this morning you haven’t answered my phone calls or emails or texts or Facebook messages—”

“I’m not on Facebook.”

“A rare and endangered specimen of humanity,” Marshall commented.

“Whatever,” Liberty scoffed. “The point is, getting you here was a minor miracle and now you’ve clammed up. It’s one thing to be a little mopey; hell, my PMS would kill a lesser woman. But this is different. What gives?”

“Okay,” Natalie said with a sigh. “But let’s sit somewhere quieter.”

The bar had a patio out back; they took a wooden table in a corner, and Marshall and Liberty sat to one side, to give her room. She offered a grateful smile but it wavered and quickly vanished. “I had a date with Julian.”

The responses were simultaneous.

“What?”

“Who?”

Liberty elbowed Marshall. “You know. Julian…from the coffee shop. The creepy weird one who hangs out all night, journaling.”

“There’s nothing creepy or weird about him,” Natalie said tiredly, but Liberty didn’t seem to have heard.

“Hold up. You had a date? When?”

“On Christmas Day. He took me to a nice restaurant—”

“Christmas?” Liberty snapped. “That was ages ago! Last year, if you want to technical about it.”

“Liberty…” Marshall said in a low voice.

“I’m sorry, I just assumed that friends would share this sort of information as it happened.” She lit a cigarette with a huff.

Marshall was more conciliatory. “Why didn’t you tell us, honey?”

“Because there’s nothing to tell. We had a nice lunch and…that’s it.”

“What do you mean, that’s it?”

“Just…nothing happened. We kissed and—”

“You kissed him?” Liberty’s eyes flashed. “What the exact hell, Natalie?”

“Liberty, for chrissakes, let her tell the damn story.”

“I’m just trying to figure out how all this happens without so much as a phone call.”

Natalie put her hands over her eyes. “I couldn’t call you. It’s too embarrassing.”

Liberty tamped her cigarette out and asked in a stubbornly softer tone, “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Natalie said miserably. “Everything was just lovely and then it all fell apart. He had something he wanted to tell me but was afraid, and I was afraid to hear it. The date ended about as awkwardly as you can imagine—even by my standards—and I just…I ran away and I haven’t heard from him since. Okay? Happy? Because I’m not.” She shook her head, disgusted with herself, as tears began to well up. “And of course I have to cry about it. Again. Because all I do is cry. Instead of talking and figuring stuff out, I cry. So there you go.”

“I didn’t realize you liked him so much,” Liberty said. “Are you going to see him again?”

“I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure he wanted to tell me he didn’t want to see me anymore.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Marshall said. “You two kissed—”

“Yes, but that’s when it got so weird. Maybe I’m a terrible kisser. God knows I’m out of practice.” Natalie waved her hands. “Anyway, it’s been two weeks. He hasn’t been back to the café since.” She dabbed her eyes with a cocktail napkin. “That means it’s over, right? I think it’s over.”

Liberty pursed her lips. “We need shots. Tequila. Stat.”

“God no, not tequila.”

“Tequila is just the thing. The guy’s obviously a nutjob. Get good and plastered and forget all about him.”

Natalie started to protest but she hadn’t the energy. Marshall brought a round of tequila shots to the table and he held up a little glass of the golden liquor. “The eternal sunshine of spotless minds.”

“To forgetting him,” Liberty said, and downed her shot as though it were water.