If only I could forget so easily.
“What’s going on?” Lauren asked, cutting straight to the point. This wasn’t a pleasantry; it was exactly what she wanted to know. She didn’t want to hear about what I’d had for lunch, or the client that had refused to speak to me when I answered the phone, insisting that Blake was the only one worthy of her time.
“I hear you’re making dinner at my party.”
She flopped down on the couch, as graceful as it sounded given her being clad in pantyhose and a power suit and holding what was probably a fifteen pound little person.
“I’ve heard that, too,” she allowed.
“Nice of you two to ask me first.”
Her eyebrow raised, contemplating my unexpectedly harsh tone. Either she hadn’t been clued in on the ruse or she was fairly competent at playing dumb, I wasn’t sure.
“It’s just dinner, Gracie. What gives?”
“Who’s on the guest list?” I volleyed back.
“Me, Matthew, you, Blake, Chris.” Her eyes rolled at the mention of her ex-roommate’s man, and the derision she felt for him nearly dripped off her tongue. As much as Chris completed Blake, he and Lauren would never do more than tolerate one another. She’d never hear her brother-in-law vow to protect her, no matter what, even though he would do it while complaining all the way.
“Anyone else?” I pressed.
She shrugged. “I haven’t decided about Sadie yet. Regina said she’d watch her, no problem. But I feel guilty about asking her when she already watches her all week long. And I’m sure Blake wants some time with her niece.”
“I’m not concerned about the under-one crowd. Hell, let’s invite Quinn, too.”
“He’s slightly older than one.”
“Same difference. He won’t eat much and Sadie won’t eat anything. No, I’m talking about adult company. Also known as what bright idea does Mrs. Blake Taylor have swimming around in that pretty little head of hers.”
Lauren dropped her eyes to her daughter, suddenly interested in picking nonexistent lint from the child’s onesie. She’d never been good with the lies, and I knew I had her.
“Earth to Lauren. Who else is coming?”
“I’m not sure, exactly.” I couldn’t read into that; she stammered through it too much.
My heart seized. I knew the name I wanted to hear. The same name that I prayed wouldn’t be on her lips. How wonderfully, tragically perfect would it be if Blake chose to set me up with my one true love?
“What does she have planned?” I hissed.
Lauren’s eyes jerked back to me. “I don’t know!”
She sounded so anguished, so upset, that I damn near felt sorry for her instead of myself. And then it struck me. This is what Will was trying to protect me from. From our friends having to choose sides when we inevitably ended, because he’d already vowed that we wouldn’t be forever. And even before our inner circle knew there was an us, the fact of the matter was that our being together was already putting them at odds.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” I apologized.
“What’s going on, Gracie?”
My eyes closed in defeat. “I wish I could tell you.”
“You can,” she insisted. And then I saw the tears that clouded her vision and I immediately felt like the worst best friend in the world. It was only more guilt inducing when she opened her mouth again. “We used to tell each other everything. What happened?”
I knew she was asking what happened to our friendship, not what my immediate trauma was. Since I’d had plenty of time to think about that very thing, the answer came quickly.
“You grew up and I didn’t. We’ve always been different, Lauren, whether or not you wanted to admit it. I mean, you were always the level-headed one - except for those years you spent with Eric - and I was the free spirit. We balanced each other out for a while, until you found what it was that you were really meant to be. And that’s somebody’s wife, and somebody else’s mom, and that just doesn’t leave much room for me.”
“There’s always room for you, Gracie.”
I plowed my hands through my hair, worn long and wavy today - anything but straight - and shook my head. “I fucked everything up by moving here. I should have stayed in Indianapolis.”
“Because it’s so much better to be a bank teller living in a postage stamp of an apartment? Because you’d rather drive two hours twice a month to come visit me? Is working for Blake that awful? If it is, why does she know more about you than I do? Why did she and Chris come console your broken heart instead of me? You held my hand while I puked in your toilet over Eric and Matthew. Why in the hell wouldn’t you assume I would return the favor?”
“I didn’t ask Blake or Chris to come over that day. Your dad did.”
“My dad?”
“Yes.”
“You told my dad? And Blake? And Chris? But not me?”
“I didn’t tell anybody anything,” I lied. She knew it; I could see it written all over her face. “Okay, I told your dad, because I knew he wouldn’t say a word about it. But Blake doesn’t know, or Chris, or anyone else. And it’s that way for a reason.”
“Do tell the reason for your madness.”
“I promised - him - that we’d keep things quiet. And now that it’s over, it doesn’t matter anyway. Sure, I wanted to tell you guys when things were going great, but he forbade it.”
“He forbade you to do something? First off, he sounds like an absolute asshat. And secondly, you sound nothing like the Gracie Alexander I used to know.”
“Then maybe I’ve changed. Because I don’t even know who the hell I am any more.”
“That makes two of us. You know what? When you figure it out, give me a call and let me know.”
With that, she scooped up her daughter and grabbed her purse.
“You’re still cooking right?” I asked desperately, using that as a euphemism for everything I really wanted to ask.
“I’ll see you Friday,” she confirmed, right before she slammed the door behind her, leaving me staring at the space she’d left behind.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Matthew’s Mustang was parked outside the design studio when I pulled into work the next morning. Without a doubt, he wasn’t there to see his sister. Which was a good thing, since a quick survey of the alley behind the building confirmed that I’d beaten my boss there. But it was a bad omen for me, because I knew what he wanted.
He allowed me to walk past him, pretending to be oblivious. It was difficult to be inconspicuous in a bright yellow convertible complete with black racing stripes. But I kept my eyes straight ahead as my high heels pounded the sidewalk. I allowed a small amount of tension to escape from my spine as I unlocked the front door to the shop.
A Styrofoam cup of coffee was thrust into my field of vision as I pulled my keys out of the lock.
“So you’re resorting to bribing me, Mr. Snyder?” I teased, grabbing it from him.
“We need to talk,” he said simply.
“Suit yourself. Step into my office, sir.”
He held the door open for me and I walked inside, flipping on light switches as I went. He followed behind me, silent as a church mouse, and for a moment I wondered if I’d imagined him being there in the first place. When we made it into the workroom, I spun around and there he was, hot on my trail. Or, being himself, just plain hot.
“Blake is going to be here any minute, so we need to make this quick,” I suggested.
“Blake’s decided to take a few hours off this morning. We’ve got time.”
It was clear that he had everything to do with her spontaneous absence.
“Oh.”
We sat down on the same stools that Blake and I had occupied yesterday, him taking his sister’s space. I took an opportunity to survey the situation. Matthew looked as insanely gorgeous as usual, messy blond hair and thick black rimmed glasses intact. But even more importantly, he didn’t look mad at me. Which was a start, at the very leas
t.
“Not a word of this to Lauren,” he prefaced. I nodded and he continued. “She thinks that I’m at work. And in a way, I am. Because I saw how upset she was when she got home last night and it was then that I vowed to get to the bottom of it.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt her, Matthew. I promise.”
“I know. And trust me, I know a thing or two about secrets. I know you have your reasons for keeping them. And I also know that you’ve kept a few of mine. And a few of Blake’s too.”
“True.”
“So I’m going to ask you something flat out, and hope that you don’t get offended by it. Because I spun scenarios around in my head all last night, and the only one that I kept coming back to explained it all. Why you wouldn’t tell her who you’re broken up about. Why it would kill her if she found out.”
I took long drink of my coffee, which was way hotter than I expected. The liquid burned my tongue, but I kept a stoic face. Deep down, I knew what he was going to suggest. And I already knew it was completely wrong.
“Did you sleep with Eric?”
Yep, that was it.
I responded by lowering my head to the table.
“Fuck you and your sister. The two of you think exactly alike,” I muttered.
Somehow he heard me.
“So that’s a negative?”
My head popped back up and I stared at him for a moment. “That is as negative as negative gets.”
He quite visibly breathed a sigh of relief. “Well, that’s good.”
“Yeah, for you and me both.”
He flashed me a grin, and I forgot to be angst-ridden for a moment. My God, was he beautiful.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Shoot.” He folded his arms across his chest and waited patiently while I regained my composure.
“Why does everyone jump to that conclusion?”
“Because there’s a thin line between love and hate.”
“Where Eric and I are concerned, there is no line. There’s just hate. Besides, ‘Indy Guy’ would be a bad moniker for him, considering that he moved to Atlanta. Talk about a long distance hookup.”
It was also an incorrect description for Will, but that was beside the point. I wasn’t the one who had come up with it, and Blake didn’t know of what she spoke. Of course she would assume that my friend with benefits had been a hometown local.
“I can’t express to you how glad I am to be wrong.”
“I would never do that to Lauren. Even if Eric wasn’t a douchebag, he’d always be off limits. I stand by what I said to Blake, who offered to set me up with some of her castaways. I don’t do sloppy seconds.”
“A wise choice. If I had different equipment, I wouldn’t do Blake’s sloppy seconds, either.”
I raised my coffee cup to my lips and treated him to a upturned eyebrow. “I’ve heard stories about you, so don’t get all high and mighty over there. I do believe that Lauren created a new catch phrase because of your past: ‘Is thirty-seven a lot?’”
Old Matthew, the one that didn’t believe he deserved someone like Lauren, would have been deflated by my honesty. Happily married, father of one Matthew actually grinned. If this was the kinder, gentler man, if this was just a fraction of his old charisma that he allowed to shine through, I was dumbfounded that his number wasn’t exponentially higher. A smile like that could melt the panties off of most women.
“So what’s with the secretiveness? Why tell Doug but not Blake or Lauren?”
“I promised not to tell. It was just supposed to be one night, and then we’d go back to our respective corners. Not worth mentioning, you know? But then it happened again and again. Blake offered me the job, and things became really complicated. I needed to vent, and Doug is safe.”
“Did Doug help?”
“Once he got done laughing at me, yes. At the very least, he listens to me.”
“Why would he laugh at you?”
“Because this shit only happens to me, Matthew.”
“I’m not following.”
“I’m not either,” I admitted. “This is so unlike me. I don’t want a relationship. I don’t want to get married or have kids. But for him, I’d change my mind on all of it. Only for him, and that’s what hurts. Because I’m pretty sure that he knows that now, but he doesn’t want it.”
“So moving two hours away should be a blessing, right? Put distance between the two of you. He can go screw anything in a skirt and you can start your life over here.”
“One problem with that. Indy Guy never lived in Indy. Indy Guy lives here.”
“What?”
“Yeah. And your sister wants to set me up with him.”
“What?” he repeated.
“You cannot breathe a word of this to anyone, Matthew Elliott. Not Lauren. Not Blake. Not Chris.”
If I didn’t have his attention before, I certainly had it now. So much so that he didn’t chastise me for uttering his middle name. He only nodded, leaning over the table to get closer to me, stroking the side of his coffee cup with his thumb in anticipation.
“I’m in love with Will.”
My eyes had involuntarily squeezed shut upon my confession, so I only heard the coffee cup tip over and Matthew’s muttered expletives as he righted it. I forced them open to find him frantically searching for something to clean up the liquid that had spilled over the work table.
I rose from my seat, went into the restroom, and returned with a handful of paper towels. He took them from me silently, neither one of us saying anything until he had cleaned up the mess, disposed of the evidence, and settled back into his own chair.
“Will? Delaney?”
I rolled my eyes. “That was pretty much Doug’s reaction, too. Yes, I am in love with Will Delaney.”
“Socially awkward Will, who barely talks to anyone, is your fuck buddy?”
“Was my fuck buddy,” I stressed. “And he loosens up a bit when he’s drunk.”
“Obviously.”
“He doesn’t want me, Matthew. And it kills me, even though he told me right up front that was how it was going to be.”
“How do you know he doesn’t want you?”
“Because he told me he’s still in love with Stephanie.”
Matthew was going to ask for clarification, but I intercepted his request.
“His ex-wife. The bitch who flushed her wedding ring down the toilet.”
“That’s a bit harsh.”
“He doesn’t know it. Emma told me.”
“Who’s Emma?”
“Their sixteen year old daughter. Who he doesn’t want me speaking to, so he got insanely pissed at me when I did. Then I walked out on him. It’s been downhill from there for the last few months. Your sister can attest to that. Chris, too.”
“And Blake wants to set you up with him? To help you forget the one that got away?”
“She specifically name dropped him. And I can’t disagree with her. He’s exactly what I want.”
“And you say he knows this? How?”
“Because he found the shirt of his that I sleep with under my pillow every night when he stayed with me after the car wreck. He didn’t say a word about it; he just made my bed up and placed it on top of the comforter, then he told me to take care of myself and he left. I found it there after he’d gone and I haven’t heard from him since.”
Almost the truth. There was that one word text message. But nothing else.
“Why was he making your bed?”
“Because that’s where he slept that night.”
“With you?”
“We have a habit of getting naked when we see each other.”
“Understood.”
“So this little dinner party this weekend? You need to call off the hounds, Matthew. Blake’s got something up her sleeve and whatever it is isn’t going to be good for me. If it’s another guy, I’m not ready for it. If it’s Will - first of all, I don’t think he’d play along - I would be devastated. He’s already
rejected me before; I couldn’t deal with the public humiliation.”
Matthew contemplated things for a moment, digesting everything he’d learned.
“Does that explain it?” I asked.
“It answers a lot of questions I didn’t even know I had,” he allowed.
“I didn’t mean to snap at Lauren like I did. But sometimes I really do think that moving here messed everything up. And she took offense to that, because she thought it meant I didn’t want to be friends with her any more. That’s the last thing that I want. I’m not blind, Matthew; I know that things aren’t the way they used to be between us. But everything is different now. Everything.”
“You can say that again.”
“How do I fix it? How do I clean up the mess that I created?”
He snorted. “As someone who’s left a fair amount of messes in his wake, I can only tell you that you’ll never get things back to where they were. That’s not necessarily a bad thing. You just have to pick up where you left off and make something beautiful out of it.”
A frown formed on my lips. “I can salvage Lauren and me. But I’ll never get over Will. There’s no use of even trying.”
“Have you tried talking to him?”
“I’ve tried everything I can think of. He’s a hard one to read. He will say the sweetest things, then turn around and rip out my heart. Sometimes, I almost believe that he cares. Especially after talking with Doug.”
“Have you considered the possibility that he does care?”
“Of course I have. That’s why I’m absolutely miserable. The guy talks out of both sides of his mouth, probably to protect himself, but it hurts me. And yes, I did make that clear. But it didn’t stop him from doing it over and over.”
“I’ll see what I can find out about this weekend, and try to stop a major tragedy from happening.”
“A minor tragedy I could do without as well.”
“Got it. And don’t worry about Lauren. She’s just touchy lately. Still hormonal.”
“She called Will an asshat,” I confirmed.
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