Unbreakable (City Lights, #2)(85)

I set up my exam materials on the coffee table, and flipped on ESPN. I kept the volume low, but checked in on the baseball stats as I ate and studied the California regulations for permits, egresses, and nondisclosures.

Hours passed. When the words in the text started to blend together, I gave up on studying for the night and committed fully to Sports Center. My one and only beer was long gone and I contemplated going out for more, when Alex returned, her arms laden with grocery bags.

I jumped up to help her. “I thought you went to dinner.”

“I did,” Alex said, “but it occurred to me there’s nothing to eat in the house. At all.”

I smirked. “You plan on doing some cooking now?”

“Hell no,” Alex said, dumping a bag on the counter with a gusty sigh. “But I got bread, chips, cheese, sandwich stuff, salad stuff. More of that beer you like.”

“You’re a saint,” I said, putting the bottles in the fridge. “I was just about to head out for some.”

“Saved you a trip.” Alex smiled up at me. She wasn’t dressed for grocery shopping, but in a silky green dress that hugged her body and revealed just enough of her full breasts to make my heart stutter and my groin tighten. She was dressed for the kind of fancy dinner I could never take her to. At least, not any time soon.

That thought was worth about ten cold showers.

I took a beer from the pack and fished a ten-dollar bill out of pocket. “For the beer. I’ll get you back on the rest tomorrow.”

“Cory…”

“Thanks again,” I said, adding a wan smile to soften my abruptness, and retreated to the couch.

Alex didn’t say a word, but resumed putting the groceries away. I heard her slam the cupboards shut and then she was standing before me, hands planted on her hips.

I glanced up at her. “What?”

“Why are you being an *?”

“Am I? I thought I was watching TV.”

“About the money,” Alex said. “Why can’t you let me be nice to you? Why do you have to constantly keep score?”

I shrugged. “Just trying to be a good roommate, is all.”

She ignored my sarcasm. “You don’t get it, do you? I don’t care about ten bucks for beer or twenty for pizza. It’s not important—”

“It is to me,” I said, and felt all the frustration and hopelessness rise up in me, like bitter bile. “And that’s what you don’t get. You throw money around like it’s nothing. It could fall out of your goddamn pocket and you wouldn’t notice. But I would. I do.”

“Oh, finally, here it is. We’re going to have this conversation now?” Her pale blue eyes blazed. “Look, I work my ass off for every dime I make. It didn’t just fall from the sky and land on my privileged head.”

“That’s not the point—”

But Alex was already rolling on her speech and was not about to be stopped.

“And while I’m fortunate that my father was able to put me through law school so that I could have the type of job that I do, he earned that money by working his ass off. So I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t make me feel like a stuck-up rich bitch if I do something nice for you. You saved my life—”

“Stop saying that!” I thundered, slamming my beer down. White foam erupted and spilled over the table. I surged to my feet. “Every time you thank me, I want to tear my goddamn hair out. I didn’t do it so that you could pay me back in tens and twenties for the rest of my life.”

“That’s unfair and you know it.”

“Yeah, probably, but you’ve done enough. You talk about keeping score? I mean…is that what you want? To be in my debt forever?”

“As if I have a choice in the matter,” Alex spat. “What am I supposed to do? I’m grateful that I’m living and breathing and not shot dead by some psychotic gangster and rotting in a hole in the ground…”

“Jesus, Alex, don’t say that,” I said, the fight going out of me. I rubbed my eyes. “I just…I don’t want your goddamn gratitude, okay?”

She crossed her arms over her chest, her chin thrust out stubbornly, though her voice quavered. “Then what do you want?”

I met her steady gaze and found it full of unspoken thoughts, full of something that looked like hope, and I nearly told her exactly I wanted.

But my own sense of self-preservation was strong, ingrained in me by years of working hard for what I had, only to watch it slip through my fingers like sand. Hope was a dangerous commodity I couldn’t afford. I’d lost too damn much already.

And what if there’s nothing between us except for her gratitude? Given what she’d just told me that seemed likely. If I told her what I wanted would she capitulate because she felt the same, or because she felt like she owed me? The thought made me cringe, and any whisper of an answer to her question died before I could give it voice.

“Nothing,” I said. “I don’t want a damn thing but to try to get some sleep. It’s late. I’ve got a shitload of studying to do tomorrow.”

Alex didn’t move, didn’t speak. Finally, she straightened her shoulders. “Fine. Goodnight.”

I watched her turn on her heel and walk away, and I busied myself with cleaning up the spilled beer. Then I settled on the couch for what I knew was going to be a futile attempt at sleep.