Brooklyn nodded. “Of course.” And then, “Sammie?”
“I’ll be fine.”
After all, lying was easier.
Chapter Fourteen
Hunter was preoccupied that afternoon at the office.
Sam hadn’t answered her phone calls. Or her text messages. Hunter wanted to send another, or better yet, run upstairs and check on her personally. But she’d apparently sent implicit instructions for some alone time, which was a little unlike Sam.
She checked the clock: It was nearing five, which would be a totally rational time for her to arrive home from work. It was her apartment, after all. If she was just home a little earlier than usual, she could still honor the request without looking like she was overbearing. Which was what you should do with someone you were involved with, right? Give them space when they asked for it. She was so new at this but wanted to do it right.
She needed to proceed cautiously with Samantha. If anything, that was what she’d taken away from her lunch with Mallory. They’d met at Mooncake’s and snagged the small yellow table by the window. The place was small but popular, and the counter guy waved at them upon entry. It was a neighborhood place, and one they frequented. Lunch had started off standard enough with Mallory ordering the garlic chicken breast and Hunter opting for the seared tuna salad, but midway through it took a turn.
“So this thing with your father, is it possible he’s just having some regrets about the way he’s behaved all these years?”
Hunter mixed around the contents of her salad as she ruminated on the question. “Maybe that’s part of it. I can’t say the reason really matters to me. It was just weird though, you know? Like I’d entered into the Twilight Zone. He was asking questions about my life, Mal. About Savvy.” She shook her head. “It’s whatever.”
“Don’t overthink it,” Mallory said carefully. “I think a wait-and-see attitude might be called for here. It’s a sensitive issue for you.”
“Yeah, there seems to be a lot of that lately.” She said it more to herself than to Mallory.
“Because you’re still sleeping with Sam?” Mallory took a casual sip of her Diet Coke.
Hunter had seen surprised people choke on food in movies, but she didn’t know it was anything more than a cliché until that moment. She’d reached instinctively for her water glass so she could clear her airway and, you know, continue to live on Earth.
“Better now?” Mallory asked, waiting patiently for her to compose herself.
“I don’t know. Did I just save myself from choking only to have you kill me?”
Mallory sighed. “I’m not going to kill you, Hunter, but I do need to ask what you’re doing. Because, seriously, what are you doing right now?”
“It’s more complicated than just that.”
“Complicated is exactly what it’s going to be if you two destroy everything we’ve built because you can’t keep your hands off each other. This thing could explode in your faces and I don’t want to be in the middle, picking up the pieces of your friendship and our business.”
“And you won’t be.” Hunter sat back in her chair with resignation. “So I’m going to suppose Sam told you?”
Mallory nodded. “That Friday night at Showplace. I think she was freaking out about it.”
She laughed. “She wasn’t the only one. Trust me.”
Mallory stared at her. “She’s vulnerable right now, Hunter. She’s had a rough summer.”
“And you think I’m taking advantage?”
Mallory’s voice was quiet. “Are you?”
The question hurt. “God, Mal. I wouldn’t do that. I care about her.”
“And what happens when the thrill wears off and you wind up hating each other? Or someone’s feelings suddenly kick in, and it’s not so much fun anymore? You can sleep with any girl you want, Hunter, just don’t pick them up at the office.”
“Wow. That’s classy, Mal, really.”
“I’m just trying to be realistic.”
“And it’s not realistic to think that this could maybe turn into something real?”
Mallory shook her head. “See, that’s where I’m coming up short. Can you honestly say that you could be happy tied down in a relationship? Locked into one girl? I’ve known you a long time, Hunter, and you’ve never once shown any interest in settling down. In fact, you’ve avoided it like the plague your entire life.”
“People change. Listen, I don’t entirely understand it either. I thought we’d eventually burn out, too, but it’s the opposite. If anything, we burn brighter with every moment we spend together.”
Mallory passed her a dubious look. “You know this is a horrible idea, Hunter. I know you do.”
But she didn’t know that. Not anymore, at least. She never in a million years thought she’d be the girl who’d want to couple up and play house like the rest of the world, but Samantha had taken everything she thought she knew and tossed it right up in the air. And now she found herself longing for much more than she’d ever planned on. Because she wanted to work puzzles with Samantha and slow dance with her at Showplace and take her to bed, where’d they’d make love and talk until the early hours of the morning. She wanted to always be the one to rescue her from mice and watch her dance each morning in the kitchen and curl up with her on the couch when she delved into another of her romance novels.
“I’m not willing to walk away from this, Mallory.”
“Why? Manhattan is full of people. You can have your pick of women, Hunter. This doesn’t make good sense.”
She opened her mouth, praying that something brilliant would come out. Instead, she went with the truth. “Because I think I’m in love with her.”
Well. That got her attention. Mallory sat back in her chair, absorbing the brunt of those words. “Please tell me you didn’t just say that.”
“Look, I get it’s not the best scenario for Savvy. But that’s only if something were to go wrong. But, Mallory, what if it were to go right?” Her hopes soared at the concept. “What if this turned out to be the best thing that’s ever happened to us? How can that not be a good thing?”
Mallory covered her eyes. “I don’t know what to say here.” But then she shifted gears and straightened and pointed at Hunter. “Yes, I do. If you hurt her, I’m coming for you. You know that, right?”
“I do.”
“And it doesn’t mean I’m happy about any of this, but I’m trying, because I adore you.”
“I get that.”
Mallory shook her head and sighed. “Brooklyn falls for our biggest competitor and you fall for one of the three off-limits people on the planet.”
Hunter raised a shoulder. “At least it’s never boring around here.”
Mallory laughed wryly. “What I wouldn’t give for a little boring.”
They paid the check and made their way onto the sidewalk. And that was when Mallory asked the million-dollar question. “Does she love you back?”
Hunter stared at her, ruminating on the series of events that had led them to this point. The laughter, the arguments, the sexual tension, Libby, all of it. “I don’t know.”
*
Samantha checked the clock on the microwave. Close to five. She’d missed the whole rest of the workday holed up in the apartment. She flipped the page of the newest issue of Money Market that she’d found in the freezer along with the rest of yesterday’s mail. Hunter was getting more creative. She’d smile if she weren’t in the throes of a highly indulgent emotional meltdown.
Reading had a way of distracting her and was what she’d been doing on one of the bar stools at the island since she’d retreated home. She’d initially picked up with where she’d left off in Bridget Jones, but as she was now more pathetic than her protagonist, she’d had to push it aside. Numbers were a better fit. You could depend on them and they didn’t change the game on you midway through, just as you started to understand it. Elvis changed positions at her feet from his stomach to his side.
“Y
ou have it made,” she told him from atop her stool. “Hang out here and let people dote on you as they pass through. No need to feel ridiculous things, only to have your heart stepped on again and again.” She turned the page aggressively. “No being jerked around for you. Nope. I need your life.” Another aggressive thwack of a page. “Oh, hey, you want to work a puzzle and then have the best sex of your life?” Turn and thwack. “Or better yet, let me mesmerize you with a song on my guitar. How about that?” Thwack. “No one says those things to you?” she asked Elvis, who had cocked his head at her in confusion. Thwack, thwack, thwack. “It’s for the best. Trust me.”
There was a soft knock at the door. Maybe Brooklyn or Mallory, who would have just let themselves in if she hadn’t locked the door behind her. Or maybe Hunter was home early and trying to be sensitive to her request for privacy. They should probably have a conversation about what Brooklyn had shared that afternoon. She’d feel ridiculous asking about some other girl, but it was better to find out now, right? She didn’t want to lie to herself about what was happening between them.
She slid open the loft door and blinked curiously at Libby, who smiled tentatively at her. Really, universe? Really?
“Hi, Samantha.”
“Libby.” She glanced down the hallway, attempting nonsensically to gain a clue as to why Libby was standing at her door. “This is a little unexpected.”
“I should have called. Texted or something,” she said absently. “I’m sorry for just showing up.” She was nervous. Sam could tell because she had a habit of brushing the hair from her forehead, whether it was there or not. It was her giveaway, and Sam used to find it endearing. It still kind of was, she thought faintly.
“It’s okay. What’s up?”
Libby shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “Right. I’m sure you’re wondering why I’m here. Do you mind if I come in?”
Samantha glanced behind her and hesitated. “Listen, Libby, it’s kind of been a day for me.”
“Then I’ll say what I came to say and get out of your way. Two minutes?” Those big blue eyes held such hope. She couldn’t say no.
“Of course.”
Libby took a fortifying breath and her eyes settled on Sam’s. Somehow when that happened, a calm seemed to come over her and she gathered confidence. “I guess I’m here because I miss you, Sam. A lot, actually. I think back on myself, to where my head was a few months ago when I called that stupid radio station, and I don’t even recognize that person. I was confused and misguided. And I know now that my priorities were out of whack.”
Samantha shook her head. “What does that mean?”
Libby stepped toward her, a quiet intensity now present in the way she spoke. “It means I made a mistake. A big one. And I’m here to fix it.” Libby shook her head in appreciation. “God, just look at you. You’re beautiful, Sam.”
Samantha couldn’t believe what she was hearing. When you were unceremoniously cast aside the way she had been, you fantasized about a moment like this. But it never materialized. Yet here it was. The girl she’d elevated above all other girls was admitting she’d been a fool to let Samantha go. It was hard to wrap her mind around.
“What about Tanya?”
“Tanya’s great but she’s not what I need. It’s not the same with her.”
Sam lifted a shoulder. “She’s not as comfortable as those old shoes, huh?”
Libby winced at the reference. “You know that’s not how I meant it.”
“It’s okay, Libby. Really.”
“I know you have something going on with Hunter and I respect that, but this is us we’re talking about. You and me. We’re supposed to be together, Sam.”
Just like that, Libby was kissing her.
And for whatever reason, Sam let her. She could have put a hand between them, put a stop to it. But she didn’t. Maybe she was caught off guard, or maybe part of her wondered about Libby, if the feelings she’d experienced had been real and if they were still viable. Regardless of the reason, one thing was crystal clear: She took no enjoyment in the kiss. In fact, with Libby’s lips pressed to hers, she felt nothing. She pulled away, prepared to explain to Libby how different things were for her now just in time to see Hunter watching them from the hallway, her face carefully blank as she took in the scene. And though Sam had felt nothing moments before, she was certainly feeling a lot of things now as she stared at Hunter. No, no, no. This is bad. Her breath caught because damn it, this was a train she didn’t know how to unwreck.
“Hunter,” Libby said, smoothing her lip gloss. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”
Hunter shook her head once. “No, it was probably good that I did.”
“There’s an explanation for this,” Samantha said. The words sounded so stupid coming out of her mouth, so mundane.
“Don’t even worry about it,” Hunter said. “I understand and I’ll leave you to it.” She smiled then, that whatever-goes Hunter smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. No, the eyes that once danced were closed off to her now, and the sting was palpable. Hunter headed off calmly down the hallway.
“Hunter, will you wait?” Samantha called after her. “Stay here and talk to me for a minute, please.”
“We can talk later. You’re busy. Clearly.” But she didn’t so much as look back when she said it.
It was a helpless feeling. She wanted to explain, but in the end, what would she really say? And would it matter? Well, that was stupid, because it did. No matter what ups and downs they’d gone through in the past couple of months, this was still Hunter, who she’d never want to hurt.
“Honey bear, she’ll get over it,” Libby said, stroking her arm. “Give her time.”
Oh. Right. Libby was still here. “You should go,” she said turning to her matter-of-factly.
“Yes, of course. I’ll give you time to explain things to Hunter. So are we okay? How about dinner tomorrow? We can talk more about us, about getting back on track.”
“There isn’t an us, Libby,” she said. God, it was so easy now. She had no interest in going back to Libby or to the kind of relationship that took so much out of her. Where she had to work to seem funny, or cute, or desirable. Her life with Libby had been exhausting, when she thought back on it, and the payoff hadn’t been nearly enough. It was a farce, like playing dress up to seem more adult.
“But there could be,” Libby said, offering a smile. “Over time, I could see myself falling in love with you.”
Samantha shook her head. “While that sounds super promising, I’m sorry, but no. I’m afraid I’m not interested.”
“Wow.” Libby took a minute with the information, finally nodding a quiet acceptance. “I think the world of you, Sam. Maybe one day we can be friends for real this time.”
“Why don’t we play it by ear?”
Libby turned to go, but stopped when a thought seemed to occur to her. “It’s Hunter, isn’t it? Because you found her?”
“It’s because I found me,” Sam corrected her, understanding it for the first time herself.
She tried calling Hunter, but, not surprisingly, she wasn’t able to reach her. So she waited, trying desperately not to remember the look in Hunter’s eyes as she stood there in that hallway, the look that said Sam had disappointed her deeply. As she sat there, a hundred different scenarios and conversations played themselves out like some sort of theatre of the mind, all the different ways this could go.
Eventually, a text came in from Hunter asking her to feed Elvis, as she’d be out late. That was it? That was all she was getting? Perfect. She shook her head in frustration and stared at the readout on her phone.
She selfishly wondered who Hunter was with. And while she wanted so much to explain away the display with Libby, a part of her considered that this might be her get-out-of-jail-free card when it came to Hunter. She could walk away now. Put things back as they’d always been between them—no harm, no foul—and dodge the probable heartbreak she’d be slammed with if she let her fee
lings for Hunter grow. And they would inevitably grow. They already felt as big as this loft they shared.
Because Sam wasn’t sure what else to do and sleep didn’t really seem like an option, she located her copy of Pride and Prejudice on Hunter’s bedside table and picked up from the spot Hunter had bookmarked. And while she waited on the couch, she read, losing herself in the story of two people kept apart by a series of misunderstandings. It was all so frustrating, really. If Elizabeth and Darcy could just find their way to an honest conversation, they could avoid so many of these obstacles to their being together. She had to admit, it struck a chord in her.
She needed to afford her relationship with Hunter that same attention. It was too important not to. So, damn it, she would sit here and she would wait for Hunter to come home from wherever the hell she’d run off to and they would sort this thing out like grown people. She’d stay strong in the midst of those dreamy eyes and soft lips and she’d keep her head about her even if they found themselves in close proximity. She closed her eyes momentarily in exhaustion and vowed that she’d explain to Hunter her concerns about April and the many women like her. Sam started to drift, and as she did so, she wondered if there’d be a time when she could lie close with Hunter again, talking quietly until they both fell asleep. And wouldn’t it be great if she could, once again, kiss the lips that she always thought about kissing. As sleep finally claimed her, it did so as she imagined what it would be like to go on another date with Hunter. A real one, where they’d sit in a restaurant, just the two of them, talking and laughing for hours, the way they did, teasing each other before coming home and making love until…
When Samantha awoke on the couch the next morning, with Elvis curled into her side, a quick glance at Hunter’s room told her she’d not come home at all. Her spirits sagged, but she was no less determined to figure this thing out.
*
“Do you want to talk about it yet?” Mallory asked, as Hunter poured a cup of coffee for herself and slid the one she’d already poured to Mallory.
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