Dark Secrets Box Set

by Angela M Hudson

  “Go ahead.” Mike stood up and carried his and Emily’s plates to the kitchen. “But there’s no way any stories about me will be as funny as your Perkins Park one.”

  My eyes widened. “You didn’t?”

  He grinned, looking at Em, who’d descended into a bout of silent-laughing. “I did.”

  “Oh my God. I’m gonna wet myself,” she cried, running from the room.

  Mike and I looked at each other for a second before both chuckling.

  “I can’t believe you told her that.” I walked over and plonked down on the kitchen chair. “But I’m glad to see you two getting along.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? We’ve always gotten along.”

  I shrugged. “I dunno. It’s just weird that she doesn’t hate you anymore.”

  “She never hated me.”

  Only my brow responded.

  “Well, she musta got over it pretty quick. My devilishly handsome face’ll do that.” He sashayed across the room like a male model on a catwalk, posing for a second, then made a turn, his butt sticking out way too far, and placed a plate on the table in front of me. “For Her Majesty.”

  The warm smell of rice and green beans filled the air with a homely feel—Mike’s homely feel. “Thanks. And, by the way, you’d make a terrible model.”

  “Tell that to my face.” He stroked an imaginary goatee.

  I rolled my eyes, but smiled, too. “So, what did you get up to today?”

  “Stayed home. Em did, too.”

  “She did?”

  “Yeah, well, she came out all dressed for classes, but we got talking, and she ended up just staying home.”

  “You’re a bad influence,” I said, digging into my dinner. “But I’m glad to see her smile. I was worried about her today.”

  “She’s worried about you, too.”

  “Me? Why?” I said with my mouth full.

  “She thinks you’re not eating.” Mike laughed, looking at my full gob. “I told her you’re incapable of starvation.”

  “Why would she think that?”

  He lifted my wrist with his fingertips, like I was diseased. “This.”

  “What, so I’m a little skinny, so what?”

  “She thinks you’re starving yourself deliberately.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  He wandered over to the kitchen. “You tell me.”

  I turned in my seat to face him. “Wait, you don’t believe her, do you?”

  He folded his arms, leaning against the counter. “Are you starving yourself?”

  “No.”

  “Okay then.”

  I dropped my fork onto my plate, watching him go about the dishes way too casually. “You big fat jerk. You do agree with her, don’t you?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t really know what to believe. The fact is, Ar”—he turned back to face me, pointing to his thumb—“you are thinner than usual. You’re pale,” he added, counting off his reasons on his fingers, “you’re tired all the time. Emily says she never sees you eat, and.”

  “And what?”

  “And… she thinks it might be ’cause of me.”

  “What? Why?”

  “She thinks you’re not over me.” His straight arms ended in flat palms on the countertop over the sink, all that raining emotion swirling down the drain below his gaze.

  Yellow flashed in my periphery. I turned to look at Emily, hiding behind the wall with a look of apology in her awkward grin. She waved at me.

  I scowled, then smiled to say it was okay.

  “Okay, but… if I wasn’t over you, why would I starve myself?” I said the last words a little louder, aiming them at Emily with a hint of spite.

  “Sorry,” she whispered.

  “I don’t see how any problem can be cured with hunger,” I added, recalling several occasions, just today, where I’d gorged on more than enough food to not only sustain me but make me fat. I wondered if depression alone could make a person lose weight, but I didn't want to mention the “D-word” to Mike and have him drag me to a doctor and then stand over me every second of every day, like the last time I was depressed.

  “She thinks it’s… that maybe you’re punishing yourself; that maybe you regret leaving me.”

  “Oh.” I looked down at my dinner. The steam had wafted away, leaving the rice gluggy. “I didn’t leave you, Mike,” I reminded him.

  He turned his head a fraction to gaze at me. “What do you mean?”

  “I wasn’t ready to marry you, but that never meant I wanted you out of my life.”

  His eyes narrowed, his whole body turning slowly to face me. “What are you saying?”

  “Look, I’m not saying I want us to… it’s not like I want you to sweep me up and take me back. I know that’s not good for either of us, but if you and I hadn’t tried to marry so soon, we’d still be together right now.”

  “Ara.” He rolled his head back. “Don’t say things like that. I’m really struggling with losing you. I’m not okay. And that just makes me think maybe I shoulda stayed and worked this out with you—that maybe I should’ve made you marry me.”

  “It’s not what I want, though.”

  “Then what do you want?”

  I pushed my plate away. I just wanted David. It was pointless trying to explain my feelings about that, though, and I knew Mike would simply mark it down to infatuation or obsession. And maybe it was. Maybe I never really loved David; maybe I merely fixated on him to overcome grief, but until I had all that figured out in my head, everyone else needed to stay out of it.

  “Ara?” Mike squatted beside me and picked up my hand, snapping me from a reverie deep enough that I never even saw him move. “Baby, I didn’t come here to confuse you. I didn’t come here to make you want me. I came here because we’re best friends and I missed you like hell. But, baby, you can’t even indicate in the slightest form that you might still, anywhere inside you, want me back. Because I’d take that. I’d take any small piece of you.”

  I curled my fingers softly around his. “It’s hard for me, too, Mike. I don’t know how to be friends with you; how to be around you without wishing you’d want me. It’s all I’ve ever known.”

  He nodded to himself, sending a long breath out through his nose. “We’ll get past this, both of us. It’s just gonna take some time. Probably some deep-and-meaningfuls.”

  His caramel eyes rose up to meet mine, and even though I could see sadness there, it still felt so good to see his face here, in my house, where I never thought I’d see him. “I hope so,” I said, “because I really miss our friendship.”

  “I know.” He sniffed, then stood up, nodding to my plate. “Now, eat.”

  The evening light snuck through the window then and outlined his shoulders as he stood by the sink again, washing pots. I had to hold back the smile as I watched him, taking a second to appreciate his ruggedness: the sexy, messy line of stubble growing along his jaw, the sleeves of his blue shirt rolled up to his elbows, and the fact that this big, almost overgrown hunk was actually washing dishes.

  He obviously felt my eyes on him, because the hard line of tension thinning his lips dissolved before he even turned his head to see my contagious smile.

  The fact was, I did still love him. I wanted our friendship to be like it used to, when I could hug him or lay in his arms, and neither of us thought anything of it. I liked Mike and I as ‘just friends’.

  But I guess, in truth, we were never just friends, really, were we? We both always wanted more. Sadly, I still did in so many ways, though I couldn’t explain it to myself, and it would make no sense to anyone else if I admitted it. Quite simply, and repeatedly, my own answers to my “What should I do about Mike?” were always “You should have married him.”

  “How’s dessert coming along?” Emily beamed in her usual bright manner, coming around the corner.

  Mike took the breath that ended the moment, and opened the fridge. “Pie sound good?”

  “Pie sounds
great,” I said, overly chirpy.

  “Fine with me.” Em shrugged, and as soon as Mike leaned into the fridge, she practically climbed over the table to whisper, “You need your head read, Ara!”

  “Why?”

  She nodded to Mike, both of us smiling when he sniffed the custard carton and cringed. “He’s a good guy.”

  “You think I don’t know that? But—”

  “We need more custard,” Mike said, looking up, showing a hint of confusion when Emily and I suddenly broke apart and sat back in our chairs. “Uh… shall I go get some?”

  “No. I’ll do it.” I pushed my chair out.

  Emily followed me to the front entrance.

  “Em, what’s the deal? Why are you always questioning my decision to leave Mike?”

  “’Cause I don’t understand what the hell you want, Ara.” She whispered gruffly, pointing toward the kitchen. “Love wasn’t enough with David; the perfect guy isn’t enough with Mike. What are you looking for?”

  “Love and the perfect guy,” I said sarcastically, instead of slapping her and saying she knows nothing about what I had and lost with David; nothing about what I would give up to have him back. Nothing about how hard it was for me to fight my feelings for Mike. “Let me know if you find it.”

  Emily capped my arm in her gentle, feminine grasp. “You’re going to lose him if you don’t wake up.”

  “He’s not mine to lose, Emily.” I brushed her hand off me, grabbed my keys and walked away.

  * * *

  The car stopped, and as the engine’s vibrations faded, I sat staring at the house. The sun had gone down unusually quick tonight. I could’ve sworn it was lighter when I left work. In fact, I was sure there was something I needed to do, but couldn’t remember what it was…

  “Ara?”

  I leapt out of my skin, looking up quickly at the person tapping my window. “Mike. You scared me.”

  “Where’ve you been?” His voice came muffled through the glass.

  I wound the window down. “Work.”

  “No. You went to get custard over an hour ago.”

  My arms flooded with a rush of heat, the nervous shot of panic consuming me. Custard. I did too. “I know I did. I was being funny.”

  “So?” Mike looked to my passenger seat. “Where’s the custard?”

  I looked too—at the empty seat—dreading the words as I realized I’d have to tell him that this happens to me a lot; that I had no idea where I’d been or how much time had passed. Instead, a clever deflection came to mind. “They were all out.” Yes, brilliant! “Sorry. I tried other stores, but…”

  Mike stood back and opened my door. “Are you okay, baby?”

  “Me? Fine. Why?”

  “Mike?” Emily popped her head around the front door, holding a phone.

  “Yeah?”

  “Dodger’s on the phone.”

  Mike sighed and looked at me before backing away. “Thanks, Emily.”

  “Dodger?” she mouthed at me, totally confused.

  “It’s his old boss,” I said, getting out of the car.

  “You Aussies have the weirdest nicknames.” She spun on her toe, following Mike back inside.

  “Hey, beautiful,” hummed a voice from behind me.

  “Eric!” I wheeled around, falling against the car with my hand to my chest. “You scared me.”

  “Sorry. Didn’t mean to.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Dinner. We’re supposed to be going out tonight, remember?”

  “Oh, yeah.” I slapped my palm to my head. “I remember now.”

  “Wait, you forgot? Dinner? With me?”

  “Get over yourself, Eric,” I said. “You don’t exactly occupy all my random thoughts.”

  “As long as I occupy the ones you have when you’re alone at night.” His wicked, suggestive grin made me imagine the kinds of things he just implied. “I’m gonna go ahead and guess that’s a yes.”

  “It’s only because you’re a vampire.” I watched the disappointment spread across his face for a second before adding, “Nothing to do with how sweet and gentle and charming you are.”

  “Well,”—he looked away, shuffling his feet to hide his bashful smile—“I’m kinda starting to like you for more than just the unbearable desire to feast on you.”

  “Good to know.” I nodded, then looked at the car. “Should we go? I’m starving.”

  “Imagine how I feel then.”

  My response was nothing more than a shake of my head as I sat back in the driver’s seat.

  “You know?” Eric said, appearing in the passenger side before I had my seatbelt on. “We could go somewhere private instead.”

  “Private? Why?” I clicked my buckle into place then started the engine.

  Eric’s smile gleamed in the gentle light reflecting off the garage door. “I can hear your heart beat, Amara. I know you want me.”

  I swallowed, silently cursing my humanness. “And you think it’s because I want to have sex with you?”

  “I love it when you do that.” He held my gaze.

  “What?”

  “Pretend you don’t want me. It’s very endearing.”

  “I don’t want you.”

  “Yes, you do.” He looked to the front again.

  “Well, even if that were true”—and it is—“I won’t give in to it. You’re making me want you; luring me. It’s not fair.”

  “And what do you think you’re doing to me?” He shook his head but kept his smile. “Every time your heart beats, or you smooth your tongue across your lips, or uncross your legs…” He looked at my legs. “I’m a guy first, Amara, vampire second. I have needs.”

  “Well.” I reversed down the drive. “You won’t be fulfilling those needs with me.”

  “We’ll see,” was all he said as the house became smaller in my rear-view mirror.

  * * *

  Eric played human really well. We had a meal together, talked vampire and Set laws for only the first half-hour, then drifted into conversations about music and books, and world history from a firsthand perspective. By the time Eric walked me to my door, I’d completely forgotten about David at least four times over the night, and completely hoping my newfound affections wouldn’t transform into love.

  “I had a good time tonight, Amara.”

  I fiddled with my keys, leaning on the wall beside the front door. “I did, too.”

  “I can see why he fell for you.” He brushed his knuckles sweetly across my cheek, and though I knew he was talking about David, the mention of him didn’t stir the heartache in me it usually did. I simply smiled.

  “Do… you wanna come in?”

  Eric looked at the door—at the silhouette on the other side of the glass; a gray shadow in the dark—and shook his head. “I’d like to, but…”

  “Mike’s just making sure I made it home.” I jerked my brow to the figure.

  “Something tells me he’s making sure of a few other things, too.”

  I grabbed Eric’s sleeve as he went to walk away. “Don’t go.”

  He softened and stepped into me, his pointed chin just touching the bridge of my nose with this closeness. “I want to stay, but I think what I want, and what you want from me, might be different things.”

  “Well, what do you want?” I asked.

  “I want us to go to the next level.”

  “Which is?”

  “Sex. Lying in bed talking about philosophy after, maybe. Whether that means you’d be my girlfriend or just bed buddies, I don't care. But I want you in that way.”

  Eric’s curious gaze studied me, then he slowly and cautiously pressed his thumb against my chin and angled my lips toward his. I tensed, holding my breath, but turned my head before we kissed.

  “You see?” He dropped his hand to his side. “You don’t want me, Amara. I’m just a way for you to feel closer to David.”

  “No, Eric, wait.” I reached for him, but he jumped the gate and disappear
ed before I had the chance to make it all better.

  The front door opened then, and Mike’s smile dropped when he saw my face. “Baby, what happened?”

  “Nothing.” I pushed past him and ran to my room, slamming my bedroom door.

  * * *

  A white tissue flashed in front of me. “Here.”

  “Thanks.” I wiped my nose and eyes, wishing I’d gone to my bedroom as the overpowering urge to cry snuck up on me.

  “Is it David again?” Emily sighed, landing on the couch next to me.

  “Kind of.”

  “Ara, you’ve got to move on from this. I thought you were going out with Eric now.”

  “I was. I did. I mean… he went to kiss me, and I… and I…” I blubbered, hiding my shameful face in the tissue. “I’ll never forget the look in his eye, Em. I didn’t think he was capable of it, but I think I hurt him. I think I really hurt him.”

  “Argh, Ara! Not Eric. Why Eric? His girlfriend passed away a few months ago. It’s taken a lot for him to start dating again.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  “Aw, now I feel really bad.” I tried not to cry again, fighting so hard, but sometimes I just couldn’t control it.

  “So, are you crying because you hurt Eric or—”

  “Yes! And because of why I hurt Eric. I just can’t do it, Em. I can’t let myself be with anyone. And what kind of a life am I expected to live when, every time I try to move on, I just feel like I’m cheating on David?”

  “Ara. He’s gone. Just like when Jason left me. He’s never coming back. I know it’s harsh, but I had to get over Jason, and you have to get over David.” She smoothed my hair over my shoulder. “Come on, if he was worth all the tears, he’d be the one sitting here with you right now.”

  She was right. I knew that. “But it still hurts, Em,” I said raggedly. “I mean, he loved me. He made promises to me. How can he just leave if all that was true?”

  “Maybe he never really meant it, Ara. Maybe he just told you what you wanted to hear,” she suggested.

  “I tried that. I tried to believe that, but I just… I can’t.”

  “Hey, girls, what’s up?” Mike glided around the corner with his hands in his pockets, dropping them to his sides when he looked at me. “Ara, what happened?”