I rip them out of her hand and lay them on the sofa. “Turn around, please. I would like to take off my khakis. I don’t have the energy to go to the bathroom. I’ll keep my boxers on.”
“Fine. I’ll be in the kitchen. Yell when you’re done stripping.” She saunters away.
I empty my pockets and put my phone, keys, and wallet on the table. It takes me a few minutes to take my khakis off. I hold the sweatpants up in front of me. This is an all-time low for me. I try to put my leg in one side but lose my balance and fall face first into the sofa. Get a grip. This isn’t going to work. I need to sit down. Finally, I can pull them up. The waistband is snug, and the legs are floods. They go up to my calves. This has got to be a joke.
“I’m finished,” I yell. “That was exhausting.”
She comes out from the kitchen and bursts out laughing.
“Hilarious. I guess I deserve it after all I’m putting you through tonight. Don’t be taking pictures of me while I’m sleeping.”
“Sorry. I’ll stop. Thanks for making me laugh though.” She grabs the wet pants. “I’ll put these also in the dryer. Can they go in the dryer? Won’t they shrink?”
“I don’t care. Please dry them somehow.” I wave my hand for her to go away. She mumbles something as she leaves.
Can I be any more obnoxious to her? It’s not necessary. The dryer door slams in the distance, with the hum of the machine following right after. I’m still standing in the same spot when she returns.
She touches my arm lightly. “Please move for a second, pink pants.”
I give her a nasty look as I step aside.
She spreads the towel over the cushions. “Now lie down.” Before I can react, she pushes me onto the sofa.
“What the hell? Are you always this rough and demanding with men?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know.”
“Nope,” I say under my breath.
She leans over me to pull a blanket off the back of the sofa. I can see up her shirt, but I look away before she notices. She peers down at me. I finally see her face more clearly. She’s pretty. Her eyes seem even bigger and bluer. She stares back at me with concern. I’m unsettled by how familiar her eyes look. For a second, I’m back at the scene of the car accident when I was seventeen, looking into the eyes of the scared girl in my car.
I rise up on my elbows. She jumps back because our heads almost collide.
“Is it you?”
Her eyebrows press together. “Am I who?”
I shake my head. “Forget it. I don’t know what I’m talking about anymore. I can’t even think straight. For a second, I thought you looked like someone from my past.”
She stares at me with her forehead wrinkled. I clear my throat, but I can’t look away from her eyes.
“It must be the alcohol distorting my vision. I’m going to throw up now. I mean, I’m going to shut up now,” I say as I burp like I just drank a can of soda. “Sorry!” I rub the back of my neck.
She presses her lips together and heads to the kitchen. One of the cabinets slam shut. She returns with a small bucket. “Just in case. I really don’t want your vomit on the carpet. I only allow that when I know the person for more than twenty-four hours.”
“You are either funny or very mean. I don’t know if I should like you or hate you. Just remember—you insisted I stay here.” She squints her eyes at me with a tight jaw. I shrug and down the glass of water and pills. I collapse onto my back and put my hands under my head. Shortly after, I watch the blanket float above me and slowly land on my body…
As sleep takes over, her voice switches to this angelic, soothing tone again. Like a symphony. “Go to sleep now. You have sobered up a bit, and the medicine will help. Maybe your hangover won’t be too bad. I’ll refill your water and place it on the table for you.”
I crack my eyes open because her voice sounds so familiar. I could listen to it all day. Now she reminds me of the girl at my ski accident again. I’ve gone mental. I promise myself I will never get drunk again. She turns to walk away, but I grab her hand. I press it against my cheek as my eyes close again. “Thank you,” I whisper as she slips her hand from mine.
Chapter 13
Lisa
I pull my hand from his and step backward. That was eerie. He placed my hand on his cheek and said thank you just like the James at the ski accident. Is it possible he’s the same guy? Don’t be so stupid, Lisa! The possibility of the James lying on this sofa and the skier being the same person is near nil. I shake my head and stroll to the kitchen.
As usual, I’d been contemplating my life tonight, which pushed me to Kerry’s Pub. I went there to take away my depressing thoughts by getting drunk. Not to bring a drunk home with me to sleep on my sofa. If someone told me tonight would end up like this, I would have laughed in her face.
I’m not as sad as I was before I met James tonight. Helping him gave me some much-needed distraction.
I place James’s dirty shoes next to the door and push the chair back toward the table. I wipe off the counter and the table, even though it’s not needed. My brain is in overdrive.
I will never forget what he looked like when I saw him at the bar—like George Bailey in It’s a Wonderful Life, when he cried at the bar after the money was lost from the bank. I know that movie by heart because it was one of my mom’s favorite Christmas movies. We would always watch it together. I have watched it every year at Christmas since she died. Anyway, James seemed just as disturbed, if not worse.
He spoke about some woman he’s in love with, or was in love with. He kept using the past tense, like she isn’t around anymore. I could hear it in his words and how the tears fell down his face. I wonder what happened to her.
Tears form in my eyes.
I know what it’s like to be so distraught. After my mom died, I wouldn’t accept that she was dead. I was in denial. I didn’t want to go to her funeral, but my dad and sister forced me.
I always asked, why did Mom die? Why didn’t I die with her? If I died that day, I wouldn’t have the feeling of dread every morning when I wake up. I wouldn’t have a heavy weight on my chest from missing her so much. I wouldn’t be so angry with everything and everyone. I wouldn’t have this disgusting scar on my lower abdomen reminding me of a future I can never have, and I wouldn’t be a burden to Dad and Tina.
I jump when I hear him cough in the living room. Please don’t throw up. I run to him, but he’s still out cold. One arm is stretched over his head, and the other is placed on his chest. I sit on the coffee table for a few minutes just to make sure he isn’t going to get sick.
It was so beautiful to hear a man talk about a woman that way. I could almost feel it myself. She was lucky to have someone who loved her so much. There has never been a man in my life who spoke about me or to me like that. I don’t think it’s meant for me. I hoped I’d have something close to it, but I was wrong. It was all an illusion, and I was in denial for a long time. After Bryant…I’ve stopped searching for it. I was so naive and desperate for someone to accept me and love me. I’m ashamed I was willing to settle for what we had.
He startles me when he shifts his legs. The blanket falls to the floor. I lay it back on him and tuck him in like a little baby. He’s probably gorgeous under all his facial hair, anger, and despair he projects. His green eyes alone would make any girl feel giddy. I can’t imagine what color green they’ll be in the daylight.
Seeing him without his shirt on was a pleasant surprise. A bonus for my good deed. His upper half is pure muscle. Never in my life have I seen someone so chiseled. He blows Bryant out of the park. The way his khakis were hanging off his hips made my hands shake and my mouth go dry. Tingles shot up my body all the way into my scalp. It was a weird but positive feeling.
I know I shouldn’t think like this, but I can’t help it. Thankfully, his sexy image disappeared when he put on those pink sweatpants.
My mind wanders back to him and Jessica. Is it possible they are the same James and
Jessica who got engaged at the party Bryant went to a couple of years ago? Is she the Jessica who Bryant pointed out to me at the bar on our first date? James did say he met her at an orientation and their first date was at that bar. If yes, our pasts are so intertwined.
I rub my temples. What a crazy night. It’s the most action I’ve had in a long time. My social and love lives are lacking. I see Emily often, but it’s always for a short time. I haven’t been on a date since Bryant and I broke up. I made medical school my focus until I graduated this past June. I don’t see my family often because of lack of time and no car, but I talk to Tina several times a week.
I’m exhausted. I mosey to my room and grab my pajamas off the bed. As I walk to the bathroom, I hear him snoring. It sounds so cute. Similar to a cat purring.
I brush my teeth and think about his comment about brushing his teeth with whiskey. It sounds so disgusting, but I smile. Even though he was rude, he was also quite comical. I need to laugh more often.
I’m not sure I’ll sleep well tonight. He might freak out when he wakes up, or maybe leave before I get up. He probably won’t know where he is. I freeze in my tracks when I open the bathroom door. If she is the Jessica I’m thinking of, she lived in these apartments. I shrug my shoulders. I’ll worry about his reaction when he wakes up.
Chapter 14
James
What is that noise? Something is vibrating or ringing. My head is pounding, and I really need to pee. I hear someone clear her throat. My eyes shoot open to see a young woman standing near me. She points to the coffee table and says softly, “Your phone is ringing.”
Who the hell is she, and why is she in her pajamas? Am I dreaming? I jump up—am I on a sofa?—and instantly fall back down. I’m dizzy. My phone keeps ringing. I look at the screen. Alexa, probably checking up on me again. I ignore it.
I look at the woman. She observes me with big, beautiful blue eyes. Her hair is up in a messy bun on top of her head, with strands flowing down. Her eyes drop down to my chest. I glance down. I have no shirt on. What the hell? And why am I wearing pink sweatpants that don’t even fit me? I cross my arms over my chest.
“Where the hell am I, and who are you?” I ask with a frigid tone. “We didn’t do anything last night, did we?” I hope I didn’t have sex with her. “Did someone put drugs in my drink?”
“You were pretty drunk and upset last night, so I brought you here to sober up. You were soaking wet from the rain, so I put your clothes in the dryer. I only had pink sweatpants for you to wear. Here are your clothes.”
With hesitance, she stretches her arms out with my clothes, and I stand up and snatch them away. I put my shirt on as she says, “I couldn’t let you leave the bar in the state you were in. You kept on talking about your girlfriend, Jessica.”
I rub my eyebrows to relieve my headache.
“I encouraged you to come here so you could drink something other than whiskey and eat some food, but you fell asleep, or should I say passed out, on the sofa after you took some medicine.”
I take in my surroundings. “I remember a little bit. I know I went to Kerry’s Pub.” I rack my brain long and hard as my head pounds. Memories pop into my brain in white flashes. My anger switches to embarrassment. “Oh…I cried to you, and then some,” I say with regret. My shoulders slump, as I sit back on to the sofa. “You should have left me at the bar. You didn’t need to take care of me. I don’t even know you. Why would you even care?”
I need some water. “Do you have more medicine?”
She takes a bottle off the coffee table and hands me two pills. She points to the glass of water on the table. I gulp them down with water and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.
“Thank you. Can you please tell me where I am?”
“You’re at the Greenhouse Apartments.”
My eyes bulge. “What the hell did you say?” My blood shoots straight to my head as I jump up. She leaps back in fright. “Is this some kind of sick, fucking joke?”
Her blue eyes shoot wide open as she shakes her head, the pill bottle rattling slightly in her trembling hand. “I live here. I’m sorry you’re angry. I only wanted to help you,” she says with disappointment.
“Did I tell you Jessica lived in these apartments?” My voice is full of disdain.
She shakes her head again and steps back.
Am I scaring her?
“I just wanted to help you. I’m sorry,” she repeats, on the verge of tears.
I don’t know what to say. Thankfully, my phone rings again. I turn away and answer the call. “Hey, Alexa,” I whisper.
She starts yelling, “Where the hell are you? Why didn’t you come home last night?”
I pull the phone away from my ear. Of course she’s pissed off because she couldn’t get hold of me. I’ve been at my worst this week.
“I stayed at a friend’s place last night,” I respond, my voice low.
“Which friend? You haven’t spoken to any of your friends in months.”
“I’m at my friend Lisa’s apartment.” I glance over at Lisa, hoping that’s her name. “I ran into her last night and ended up crashing at her place.”
“Who the hell is Lisa? You’ve never mentioned a friend named Lisa, ever! You better not have slept with her—”
“I’m not even going to respond to that comment.” I clamp my teeth together. I will never sleep with another woman. “Listen, I’ll call you later.” I hang up and turn around.
“Your name is Lisa, correct?” I ask her softly.
She nods.
“I’m sorry for yelling at you. I’ve been going through an extremely hard time for the past year. Jessica, whom I have been speaking about, lived here for a while. When we started dating, she lived in apartment fifteen. Did you know her?”
“I knew of her, but I never met her. My ex-boyfriend knew her through the residency he was doing in the pediatrics division at the hospital.”
Curiosity takes over. “Really? What’s his name?”
“Bryant Callahan. I think you met him once at a party Jessica held.”
“His name sounds familiar, but I don’t remember when I met him.”
“I was supposed to go to a party with him at Jessica’s, but I was sick that night. Maybe we would’ve met then, but it just wasn’t meant to be, I guess.” She swings her arms back and forth.
Now I know who he is. I met him at Jessica’s party when I proposed. Now I’m uncomfortable. There is silence for a few seconds. “Listen. Again, I’m sorry about last night and for yelling at you. I usually don’t dump all my shit on strangers. I usually don’t tell anybody anything. The alcohol was talking. Not me.”
I look at the khakis in my hands and then at her.
“I’ll leave you alone so you can get dressed. If you need anything, I’ll be in the kitchen,” she says.
“Thanks.” I put them on in record time but notice they are snug. I walk into the kitchen.
She’s sitting at the table, her hands around a cup of coffee.
“Did you happen to put my khakis in the dryer?”
She looks me up and down and grins. “Yes, I did. They look a little tight now. Your shirt looks a little snug as well. I asked you last night if they could go into the dryer. You said it was okay. Don’t worry. You look fine.”
Serves me right.
My socks and shoes are near the apartment door. She follows me as I fetch them. “I’m sorry I disturbed you. I’m sure you had better things to do than babysit me. For all it’s worth, thank you for saving me last night. I don’t want to know what the outcome could have been if you weren’t there.”
I reach for the doorknob, but she stops me.
“I’m a first-year resident at the hospital here. I’m scheduled to work today, but I don’t need to be there until one p.m.”
Why did she tell me that? “Okay, but I’ll leave now anyway. Again, I’m sorry and very embarrassed and confused about this whole thing.” Stop repeating yourself.
She
slightly hops on her feet toward me and says, “Why don’t you stay for breakfast? I think you need some food in your stomach. It won’t be anything fancy, but I can make a mean batch of pancakes. You’re welcome to shower while I make them. But only if you want to. No pressure.”
I linger by the door, my hand on the doorknob. For some unknown reason, I say, “Okay. I am pretty hungry, even with this hangover.” What am I doing? Well, I love pancakes. She also puts me at ease. “A shower sounds great right now. Are you sure it’s all right with you? I have already overstayed my welcome. I promise I’ll make it quick.”
“It’s more than all right. If I’m not scared or angry with you already, I think breakfast will run smoothly.” She smiles, and I can’t help but smile back.
I have no right to take a shower here. I should have recognized the design of the apartment. It has the same layout as Jessica’s. Where I proposed to her. The decorations and colors are different. Lisa has light-green and sky-blue colors. Jessica was more into neutrals. The kitchen is the same though.
Lisa seems easygoing. She could have reacted completely different to my outburst, but instead she offered to make me pancakes. Who would do that? She seems familiar because of her soft voice and her name.
According to Alexa, the girl Lisa, from my ski accident, had black hair though, so it couldn’t have been her. Her eyes also look like the girl I helped in the car accident. I will not even attempt to ask her if she is either one of those girls. I’m just imagining things. I laugh at myself. Yes, James, she is both girls wrapped up in one little package. I’m a lunatic.
I finish showering and brush my teeth with the spare toothbrush she’d told me was in the medicine chest. The mirror reflects someone who looks human now, even with this ugly beard I have. As I open the bathroom door, I smell something delicious. I take in a deep breath. My stomach growls, as if it can smell pancakes. When was the last time I ate pancakes…or any decent food?
Steaming pancakes are already on the table. My mouth waters in anticipation of the warm, sweet taste of maple syrup.
Lives Collide (Collide #1) Page 9
