Too Much Information (Awkward Love Book 3)

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Too Much Information (Awkward Love Book 3) Page 5

by Missy Johnson


  “You’re right,” I say, feeling better. “Just a few weeks and the problem solves itself.”

  “Exactly.” Her eyes shine. “Now if you actually wanted to see how dirty that doctor—”

  “Becca.”

  “I’m kidding.” She giggles, winking at me.

  I smile at my friend because, crude comments and all, she always manages to cheer me up.

  “Thanks for coming over to calm me down.”

  “Anytime.” She shrugs. “Besides, it’s a great excuse to watch trashy movies that we really should’ve grown out of years ago.”

  I get up and put the movie in, then sink back down into my spot, resting my feet in Becca’s lap.

  “You know what I find really amusing?” She giggles as she rubs my feet. “You avoid situations that make you uncomfortable like the plague, yet you keep finding yourself submerged in them. It’s kind of hysterical.”

  “And then there are people like you, who’ll do anything and everything and never have to deal with any of the consequences, at all,” I tease her. “You’re like the female version of my brother.”

  She shakes her head ruefully.

  “Speaking of which, how are he and Annie doing?”

  “They’re doing well, although she hates everything about being pregnant,” I say with a grin.

  Becca is silent for a moment. “Hey, does it make you jealous at all?”

  Her voice is soft as she studies me. I shrug knowing that I can’t lie to my best friend. As much as I deal with it because I have to, it’s still a sensitive subject for me.

  “Sometimes, it does…” I pause, considering how I’m feeling for a moment. “I don’t know that jealous is the right word. Bittersweet, maybe? Most of the time, I’m genuinely happy for them, but every now and then, the selfish part of me comes out, and I get really angry at them for getting something I want so badly, so easily.”

  I reach up and wipe away a tear that I didn’t even know had formed. Just when I think I’ve come to terms with not being able to have kids, something makes me see that I haven’t.

  “It’s okay to be sad,” Becca says, frowning at me. “Bottling it up isn’t good for you. You can be happy for someone and sad for yourself at the same time, you know.”

  I shrug. “I know, but it’s not going to change anything. Being upset that they get to have a baby doesn’t mean that I can, so why bother being angry? It is what it is. Deal with it and move on.”

  She pushes my feet off her lap and climbs over to me, wrapping her arms around me.

  “That’s a very mature way of looking at it,” she says, smooching me on the cheek. “You’re the strongest person I know.”

  I smile at her.

  I wish I felt that way.

  By the time the movie’s over, it’s too late for Becca to go home, so I convince her to stay. We curl up in my bed talking about nothing until I can’t keep my eyes open anymore. I roll over, asleep before I’ve even had a chance to properly snuggle into my pillow.

  I wake up the next morning with Becca’s arms draped around me. I giggle as I listen to her snoring sporadically in my ear because this isn’t exactly what I had in mind when I said that I wanted someone in my life. I hold my breath and slither out from her arms, careful not to wake her, but I’m not careful enough, because she stirs, her eyes springing open. She looks around, dazed and still half asleep.

  “What time is it?” she murmurs.

  “Around eight. What time do you have to be at work?” I ask, knowing she works most Saturdays.

  She shakes her head. Her eyes are sleepy.

  “I’m off today. I’ve got all day tomorrow on set, so this is my day to relax.”

  Becca is an animal handler, so she’s always on and off movie sets and TV shows that require pets. It’s a pretty cool job, and she’s met loads of famous people through it. I’ve even gone along with her once or twice. It’s amazing to watch her at work because she’s a natural when it comes to animals.

  “Great, want to do something, then?” I ask, throwing my robe over my pajamas.

  She shrugs. “Sure. What do you have in mind?”

  “Anything that will make me forget about Luke Dillon sounds good,” I say hopefully.

  She laughs. “I’m sorry, but even his name is perfect.”

  I sigh because she’s right. He sounds like a movie star.

  “So, what do you want to do?” she asks. “Because I’m not fussed. Whatever floats your boat.”

  “Hey, would you mind if we take my neighbor somewhere?”

  I feel bad with work starting next week that I might not have as much time for her because I can see how much our little day trips mean to her. Earlier this month, we went out for lunch and to see an anniversary screening of Sabrina. She had a great time, and to be honest, so did I.

  “She spends so much time cooped up in that little apartment watching TV.” I shake my head. “Some nights I swear I wake up at three in the morning to the sound of her abusing Canada’s Bachelor from about three seasons ago.”

  Becca giggles. “This is your eighty-year-old neighbor, right?” she asks, her eyes sparkling.

  I nod. “It’s both hilarious and adorable to watch,” I admit.

  “I’ve got the perfect day for her, then.” Becca grins.

  #

  I shake my head and smile at Becca. “You’re a legend, you know that?”

  She nods, looking pretty proud of herself.

  “Yeah, I hear that a lot. I mean, it’s not The Bachelor, but it’s the next best thing, right?”

  I glance over at Iris, who is eagerly watching on the sidelines, shouting abuse at the director, while she watches the filming for Date Me at Dinner, a new show that’s filming its first season at the studio where Becca works. I cringe when she starts offering two of the contestants some friendly advice on how to be less slutty.

  “Maybe you should go over there and pitch a new concept to the director.” I giggle to Becca. “Eighty and doing it.”

  Becca grimaces, covering her face with her hands as she laughs.

  “Honestly, I’m not sure any man her age could handle her. My granny is eighty-one and a big day for her is finishing the crossword puzzle,” Becca jokes. “Iris isn’t exactly your ordinary eighty-year-old.”

  I laugh because I certainly don’t need anyone to tell me that Iris is exceptional.

  After the screening, we head out for lunch, but not before Becca receives a firm word from the director promising that she will never bring Iris back to the set again. They had to reshoot most of the scenes, which will cost them a small fortune. I feel terrible about it, but at the same time, I haven’t seen Iris looking this happy since Sabrina.

  We eat our sandwiches in a café not far from home. Becca and I listen to her tell stories of the men she used to date. Apparently, she was quite the little minx before she settled down and married Walter.

  “Do you miss him?” I ask her.

  I don’t know much about him, other than he’s been gone for nearly ten years.

  “Of course, but when you get to my age, you miss everything. I miss being continent overnight,” she admits, a rueful smile on her face.

  Becca and I burst out laughing because it was such an unexpected comment.

  “You didn’t have any kids?” Becca asks. I give her a look, and she winces.

  “I have a daughter, but she’s too busy to find time for me. She’s done quite well for herself, but that means she works long hours. She has a family of her own now. I understand how hard it is to find time to visit Mom.”

  I bite my tongue because I hate that she’s making excuses for her daughter. I don’t care how busy you are, you always make time for family.

  It’s been a long day, and once Iris is safely back in her apartment, Becca and I head back to mine. We walk inside. I head straight over to the couch and collapse in a heap.

  “Thanks for today. I think I had as much fun as Iris did.” I laugh. “Sit down,” I order her, l
ifting my feet up to make room.

  She shakes her head. “I’d love to, but I better get my ass in gear and get home. I have a few things to get ready for tomorrow.”

  “Okay. I’ll call you later in the week, then.”

  I’ve no sooner walked her out when my phone rings. I fish it out of my pocket, wishing my jeans weren’t so tight because the damn thing stops ringing as soon as I go to press answer. It was Matt, so I call him straight back. It’s always in the back of my mind that Annie might have gone into labor or that something is wrong.

  “Hey, it’s me. Mind if I come up? I’m downstairs.”

  “Sure,” I say, surprised. “I’ll buzz you up.”

  I let him up and open the door, then I walk back into the kitchen to pour myself a glass of wine. I smile when I hear the door open just as I’m twisting the cap off the bottle.

  “Want a glass of wine?” I call out.

  “Make that two.”

  I laugh and prepare a glass of water, knowing Annie is in no condition to drink alcohol. I take a sip of my wine as I peer around the corner into the living room. I nearly choke when I see Luke—not Annie—standing next to Matt. Jesus, I was not expecting him. I cough and splutter for a few more minutes, wincing as my chest burns, until I’m finally able to take a breath without feeling like I’m going to die.

  They both stand there, looking amused.

  “Good thing I brought a doctor with me,” Matt quips.

  “Hilarious,” I say, making a face at him. I slink back into the kitchen to both compose myself and pour their drinks, then I walk back into the living room.

  “Thanks,” Matt says, taking a glass. “I need to ask you a huge favor.” He glances at Luke in a way that makes me really nervous.

  “What?” I ask.

  I hand Luke his drink, still distracted by what Matt could want. Whatever it is, it has to involve Luke, or why would he be here?

  “You know how Annie’s parents were coming over for a few weeks? Well, it was supposed to be next month, but they apparently told us they changed their dates to this month.”

  “Okay…”

  I sit down on the couch, feeling faint. I’m not sure what this has to do with me.

  “Only they didn’t,” he continues. “Annie swears they didn’t tell her, but she’s been forgetting everything lately, so who knows—”

  “Matt, just get to the damn point,” I snap impatiently. “What are you trying to ask me?”

  “I want to know if Luke can crash here for a few weeks,” he blurts out.

  “Here?”

  My heart races. I can’t think straight. I can’t look at Luke. God, I can’t do anything.

  “You have no idea how much it would help us out,” Matt says, his eyes pleading with me to say yes. I look away because I’ve always struggled to say no to him. “We’ll never hear the end of it if Annie’s parents have to stay in a hotel and you have a spare room right here, so I thought it wouldn’t hurt to ask,” he pleads. “And you said to me a few weeks back that you were thinking of renting out your room, right? This would save you the trouble. And I’m sure Luke would be happy to pay you.”

  “Definitely,” Luke agrees. I jump, his deep, sexy voice startling me.

  What do I say to that?

  “Sure, you can stay here,” I hear myself say. I smile tightly at Matt, but not Luke. No, I can’t even bring myself to look at Luke at the moment.

  “Really?” Relief floods Matt’s face. “Thank you, Laura. You seriously just saved my marriage,” he declares. He slaps Luke hard on the back, pushing him toward me. “Besides, I’m sure you’ll love having Luke around. And having him here will be handy for you since he starts at Mercy next week too. Maybe you can carpool or something.”

  “Mercy?”

  I whisper the word, the blood draining from my face. I feel sick, but I still can’t work up the courage to look at him.

  “Yes, Mercy,” Matt says, eyeing me strangely. “Luke’s a doctor too. I told you that, didn’t I? I’m sure I did.” He shakes his head. “Anyway, you two will have heaps to talk about while he’s here.”

  “Maybe we can exchange patient horror stories,” Luke suggests lightly.

  His eyes gleam with amusement as they connect with mine. I glare at him, mortified he just said that and in front of my brother, no less. Not that Matt knows anything, but still…

  “Oh yeah,” Matt chuckles. He nods enthusiastically as he gets up and walks over to the kitchen to put his glass in the dishwasher. “Make sure you ask him about cubicle nine girl. It’s a fucking classic.”

  My head snaps sideways as I glare accusingly at Luke.

  “You told my brother about it?” I hiss.

  “I had to tell someone,” he protests. “I didn’t know you were his goddamned sister.”

  Matt walks back, oblivious to the fact that he’s interrupted our heated discussion. I don’t even listen as he and Luke chatter because I just keep going over in my head that he’s staying here. With me. For three weeks.

  This is a bad, bad idea, but I can’t figure out a way to get myself out of it.

  There’s no backing down from this in a way that isn’t going to raise questions. Maybe what I need to do is be prepared for those questions regardless because eventually, this is going to backfire.

  “Well, I guess I should get going, pregnant wife on the warpath and all,” Matt says, clasping his hands together. “I figured it would be just easier for Luke to stay here from now on.”

  “What about his things?” I protest.

  I follow Matt to the door and peer out, shaking my head when I see Luke’s luggage.

  “What? I knew you’d say yes. Thanks again for this,” he says as he kisses me goodbye. “I owe you big time.”

  “It’s fine,” I say, smiling so wide I’m at risk of my face breaking.

  I wait until he disappears down the hallway, then I walk back inside. I feel sick. On the outside, I’m all smiles, but inside, I’m freaking out like crazy. My heart races as I walk back into the living room to Luke. I meet his eyes for the first time since he got here.

  “Look, I’m really sorry about this,” he says.

  He sounds genuine enough, but I’m waiting for the follow-up comment. When it doesn’t come, I lower my guard a little.

  “It’s not your fault,” I reply.

  “No, but I can imagine how uncomfortable this is for you. He said you wouldn’t have a problem with me staying, and I couldn’t exactly tell him why you would,” he says. “I always planned to go to a hotel as soon as he left here.”

  “Only you can’t because he’ll find out and he will want to know why.” I frown at him, knowing my frustration is misplaced directed at him. None of this is his fault.

  “So, I’ll make something up.” He’s the voice of reason. “I really don’t want to impose on you.”

  “It’s fine.” I sigh, even though I’m so tempted to take him up on that.

  I know that if I do, it will come back to bite me on the ass. The moment the questions start, Matt will know because I can’t lie for shit. And while it might not seem like that big a deal, I know I’ll never hear the end of it from Matt if he found out I was cubicle nine girl.

  “Besides, it’s the perfect location for you since you’re starting at Mercy and all.”

  “Okay, that looks much worse than it is.” He winces and runs his hands through his hair. “God, it probably looks like I’m going all Single White Female on you, but I promise I’m not going to chop you up and wear you like a second skin,” he jokes as he laughs. He winces when I react to his comment by crossing my arms over my chest. “Ouch. Tough crowd tonight.”

  I shake my head because he’s right about one thing: I do have lots of questions. I don’t think he’s stalking me, but I can’t turn around without him being there ready to invade some other part of my life. Is he going to be there next time I have lunch with Mom, too?

  “I know how bad it looks, but I applied for that job way
before I had any idea who you were.” He sits down on the arm of the chair, his earnest expression making me believe him. “I heard back on the morning of the dinner party that my interview was successful.”

  “So why didn’t you say anything then?” I ask.

  “Firstly, would you have listened. Second, why would I? I didn’t know that you worked there or that you were even a doctor so it would be an odd thing to work into the conversation. Why didn’t you tell me you were a doctor when you came in the hospital?” My eyebrows shoot up. He flushes. “Came into the hospital,” he corrects himself through gritted teeth.

  Great, now I look like the unreasonable one.

  “Okay. We’ll call that a coincidence. So, what are you doing at Mercy, anyway?” I ask him.

  “I’ll be doing a surgical fellowship in a special cardiac program,” he says. “You?”

  “My third-year residency.”

  “It’s a big hospital,” he tries to reason with me. I raise my eyebrows. “Fine, it’s actually pretty small, but you’ll be all over the place, while I’ll only be in the one, tiny area.”

  “I’ll have a spare key ready for you tomorrow,” I say stiffly. “I’ll show you the spare room. Towels are in here.” I open up the cupboard just inside the bathroom door, snatching down my lacy underwear, which is hanging from the shower rail. I wish I’d tidied up. He smothers a laugh. “Help yourself to whatever you find in the kitchen. If you don’t mind, I might go to bed.”

  “Sure.” He smiles at me, and I force one back, then turn on my heel and stalk down the hallway. “Laura?” I turn around. “Thanks for this. I appreciate it.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Chapter Five

  Luke

  I won’t chop you up and wear you like a second skin?

  What the fuck was I thinking? No wonder she’s avoiding me.

  At least, I’m pretty sure that’s what’s going on because she’s gone when I get up and never there when I’m home. It’s Wednesday night, my fourth night here, and given our hectic schedules, it would be easy to believe that we’re both just very busy, but considering our history, I think it’s more than that. In all the long hours we’ve both been working, I’ve seen her twice at the hospital. The first time, she didn’t even acknowledge me. The second time, she managed a tiny smile, so I guess that’s progress. Still, I can’t force her to like me after what happened, but I’m hoping it’ll become less of an issue the more she gets to know me. If she gets to know me because, the way this is going, she’s going to keep avoiding me until I leave.

 

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