by Calinda B
“That sounds intimidating.”
“Oh, you know, the robots just kick those things out. Anyway, would you please come over and help me? You know how much I despise technology.”
“I don’t know, Grammy. I’m not feeling sociable.” I’m more in the searching for a reason to live zone.
“Neither am I. We’ll be perfect company.”
“No!” The word flies out like a poison-tipped arrow, making me feel even worse. My grandmother doesn’t deserve this. “I’m sorry. I…” I want to disappear. I wish I’d died, along with the rest of my family.
“Vienna! I’ve never heard you like this. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing! I’m…I’m not feeling well. I think I’ve come down with something.” More like a serious case of heartbreak. I fell in love with a fantasy, he got into my headspace—into my mind—and he rejected me. How fucked up is that?
“Come over. I’ll comfort you.”
“I don’t need comfort.”
“I’ll cook for you.”
“I want to be alone, Grammy.”
“You get yourself over here, young lady,” my grandma commands.
“I have no clean clothes.”
“Wear whatever you have. If you’re not on my door in thirty minutes, I’m calling the police, telling them you’re in danger. I know the police chief, don’t forget. I can call in a favor if I have to.”
“Fine!” I snap into the pulse-com. I manage to shower, dress in the last clean pair of clothes I have, and head over to Grammy’s dwelling.
She greets me at the door and gives me a long hug. “So, what got into you that you isolated like that? I was getting worried. I even called Jonas to find out if you were okay.”
My heart lurches. “You did? What did he say?”
“That he hoped so but didn’t know.”
“He said he hoped I was okay?”
“Yes, dear, he did. I told him you were pretty devastated at being booted from his friendship.”
“Oh, no, you didn’t, did you?” I groan.
“I did indeed. He needed a talking-to, that boy.”
“What did he say? Now he’ll never talk to me. Not that he would anyway.”
“He said that he really blew it and needs to find a way to make it up to you.”
My legs give out and I crumple onto the sofa. “Did he really say that? You wouldn’t be fooling me, would you?”
“No, Vienna, when have I ever fooled you?”
“You haven’t but…”
“But nothing. He said he’s been miserable ever since he did that and he was going to find a way to make it up to you if it’s the last thing he ever does.”
“It might just be that. I saw him a few weeks back and it’s been a whole lot of nothing ever since. I find it hard to believe he feels remorse. He’s never been shy about asking for what he wants. Except with Jenner, that is,” I add glumly.
“We spoke about that, too.”
I cast my eyes in her direction. “What did you talk about?”
“About the problems he has had with her.”
“Seriously? You and Jonas talked about his relationship problems?”
Grammy scoffs. “What, you think I don’t know a thing or two about relationships? I dated before I met your grandfather.”
“No, that’s not what I meant. It’s just that…well, what did he say?”
“He just needed to talk, I think. He seemed pretty down. He’s trying to do the right thing and give Jenner a chance to get herself together. And then he mentioned something about timing and assets.”
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know. I just listened. Sometimes that’s the best thing you can do for a person. Anyway, he says it’s important to him to do the honorable thing.”
“With Jenner? That again. That’s bullshit. More like she owns him.” I shake my head. “Let’s change the subject. Where’s your Universe located?”
Grammy picks up a control from the side table and points it at the holo-screen. It instantly comes to life. A series of images appear in the middle of the room. She highlights one, presses a button, and folders and folders of content appear in front of us. “Here—sort through these. They’re images of you and the family when you were young.”
I extend my fingertips and start skimming. “How can I determine which of these images you want to keep or not? They’re your family photos, not mine.”
“I just wondered if you want any of them. I could transfer them to your Universe and free up some of mine.”
“I don’t know,” I say, rapidly flipping through the images. “I don’t have much need to reminisce about my past. I’ve spent a lot of time burying it. What’s done is done.”
“Just take a look. I’ll go through these ads and virtual mags and datapieces. I can delete most of those.” She points the controller at the ones she doesn’t want and they make a pop before blurring from existence. “It always feels satisfying to delete things, doesn’t it?”
We work for over two hours, sorting, deleting, and organizing. I see pictures of my past, floating before me like distant nightmares. Then I spy an image of me and Liam. We look really happy. I study the image. It never would have worked between us, if I really stop and consider. He was too clean-cut. Too squeaky clean around the edges. Too…I don’t know. But when I look at him without all the angst of the pain I caused him, I see it was for the best we broke up. And I think of the orgasm I nearly had with him. I wonder why I’ve clung so long to the heartbreak of that moment instead of letting go and moving on. I mean, I’ve let go of so much pain over the years. Why not this one? Why deprive myself of pleasure over and over and over? If Himeros ever returns…if I ever start my business up again, that is…and if Himeros ever returns, it’s going to be on my time, with my control in place.
My pulse-com stirs my heart. I’ve ignored so many communications but this time I stroke my lips and answer.
“Hey.”
The male voice on the other end makes me jump. I swallow, blink, and hustle out of Grammy’s earshot. I want to immediately disconnect but instead I blurt, “Is this really you?”
“Yeah.”
We’re both struck with silence.
“Can I come over?”
“You betrayed me. I’m pissed at you and I’m at Grammy’s. We’re cleaning up her universe.”
“We’re done, dear,” Grammy calls from the other room. “If you need to go, do it.”
“I can be at your house in twenty minutes.” He sounds desperate.
“Where are you?”
“At Fourth and Pine.”
“I don’t know. The house is a mess. I’ve been…” I glance down at my last set of clean clothes, picturing the pile of dirties in my bedroom. “I’ve been…” I tug at my unwashed hair. “I need thirty. Come in thirty.”
“Okay,” he breathes into the com. “Thank you.”
“For…?”
“For agreeing to see me. I’ve been an ass.”
Tears sting my eyes. “Yeah. You have.”
“I’m going to make it up to you. Or, at the very least, apologize to you for days.”
I smile. “Okay. I might let you.” I twirl my hair around my finger. “Might is the operative word.”
“You’re being generous. You should drop-kick me across the planet.”
I sigh. “Yeah. Maybe. It’s been rough. But we have too much history. You at least deserve a chance to explain.”
He breathes a sigh in my ear. It sounds like a huge load of relief just left his shoulders. “Okay. I’ll see you in thirty. Forty if there’s traffic.”
“Okay.” We both linger before disconnecting. I step out into the living room, biting my lip.
“Have plans?” Grammy has turned off the holo-screen and is sitting on her couch, staring out the window.
“It was Jonas.”
“I suspected.” She waves her hands in my direction. “Go! We’re done. You need this. And don’t wait so lon
g to call me.”
I scramble to give her a hug and hustle from her dwelling. I’m filled with so many conflicting emotions, I barely remember the ride to my house.
When I arrive at home, I race into the house and start tossing soiled take-out containers, dirty clothes, and general mess into its appropriate place.
Nigel studies me and slowly blinks his eyes. What put a fire under your ass? I’ve been trying for weeks to get you on your feet.
I glare at him. “You don’t understand human emotion.”
He leaps up onto the back of the couch. What’s to understand? You’re all insane. It’s so much simpler in the jungle.
“Like you’d know.” I lean over and scratch his head.
It’s in my genes. I know. You prowl. You stalk. You kill. You eat. Done and done. He lifts a tiny paw and proceeds to groom.
“Whatever you say, kitty. Whereas, here it’s eat on demand.” I roll my eyes at him.
I’m an excellent hunter. I would thrive in the jungle.
“Whatever…” I leap into the shower, turn the spray on, and scrub. When I’m clean, I put on my now slightly soiled last set of clean clothes, shove some stray socks under the bed, and tense as the door-pulse chimes. He’s here. A million thoughts race through my head. I’m still pissed. And hurt. And excited. And apprehensive. I rub my hands to try to clear the conflicting emotions all battering my insides. I run them through my hair. I force calm into my system. And I reach for the doorknob with a shaky, shaky hand.
Chapter Eighteen
Jonas smiles when he sees me. He hesitates, his face falls, and he stares at his boots. Some inner wall must have snapped into place.
My attention drops to his feet. His boots are expensive leather, scuffed and worn from his time in the field. My gaze meanders up his jeans, which conceal well-muscled legs. I’ve seen those legs on many a summer occasion. My eyes linger on his slim hips, the slight bulge in the fabric hinting at his…never mind. I’ve never seen that part. I’ve wondered a time or two. My contemplative eyes trace the contours of his tight abdomen, the muscles visible under his signature tech-T.
He lifts his head and gives me one of those open “bare your soul” kinds of looks he started to give to me before he pressed the delete key on the friendship.
I swallow hard and study him. He looks thinner than when I saw him last. Dark circles under his eyes make his cheeks appear bruised. His hair, the color of a glistening, dark bay stallion, is brushed back from his forehead, making his blue eyes look even more intense.
“Can I come in?”
“Yeah, sure. Of course. I’m sorry. Come in.” I step aside to let him enter.
He steps across the landing and heads for the sofa, the same way he’s done throughout the years. He starts to sit, but hesitates and stops, standing awkwardly. “May I?”
My face creases into a frown. “May you what? Sit down? Why the hell do you have to ask?” This hesitant version of Jonas annoys me.
“I don’t know…I just…it’s…I don’t know where to begin.” He settles stiffly onto the couch and runs his hand through his dark locks again. He regards me with openness and sincerity again, making me all melty inside.
“You’re making me uncomfortable,” I say, unable to take my eyes from his. My stomach is churning like a stormy sea.
“What am I doing to make you uncomfortable?”
“You’re looking at me…it’s the way you’re looking at me.”
“I told you, I’ve always wanted to look at you this way.”
I scoff. “Yeah. Great parting gesture.” I break away from his inviting gaze. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch him flinching.
“I’m sorry, I…well, it’s just that you… you said you wouldn’t be with me as anything but a friend unless I got it together and left Jenner.”
“You didn’t look particularly separated from her when I last saw you,” I snap. “Not that I could see you.” My face must have turned sixteen shades of crimson. Heat is pushing up my neck and into my face like someone set a fire inside me. I stare hard at the textured sofa fabric. My hands reach out to smooth it as if I’m tenderly stroking Jonas’s stubble-lined jaw.
“Kissing you—that was incredible. That was a dream come true.”
“It was only the Devil’s Juice.” I steal a peek in his direction.
He slowly shakes his head side to side, capturing my eyes with his. Our gaze tangles tempestuously, for one long moment, as if we’re at the Craze, connecting intimately, lip to lip. My mouth begins to burn with longing. He must be feeling the same because his tongue slips out to slide along his generous mouth. Then, his face darkens. “I’m sorry, V. I’m sorry to have hurt you.”
I nod as an icy wall erects inside my chest. I don’t want to be vulnerable. Not with anyone. Especially not with him. He shared my secret with a stranger, I think, adding the final nail to the coffin. One betraying teardrop pushes through the freeze and slides down my cheek.
Jonas reaches out and wipes it with his warm thumb. “Just one tear?” he asks, smiling gently.
I glare at him. “I’m all out. I was never able to restore my reserves after the weeks and weeks of crying.”
“Ouch. I deserve that.”
“You do. Couldn’t you have at least commed me? Told me something? Was it that easy to pitch all the years of friendship and companionship we’ve shared? I felt discarded, soiled waste product. Something even an enzyme would reject.”
“No, V, don’t say that. You’re anything but that. You’re…I…I’ve loved you since the day I met you.”
“Then why were you with Jenner all this time?” I blurt.
His face hardens. “Don’t forget, you telling me you only wanted to be friends, well…that wasn’t the first time I heard that. It’s been your mantra for years.”
“I thought we had a good thing. I thought it worked.”
“I wanted more. And, yes, we have a good thing. Not had.”
At least six more tears poke through the ice lining my eyes. I count each as they slither down my cheek. I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand to stop any more from escaping. “You say you love me?” I know I should feel happy. I want to feel happy. I can’t seem to feel anything but sorrow and anger.
“I do. Only now I think I don’t deserve you. Before I thought maybe I had a chance.” He gives me a wan smile. His face grows serious again. “I really blew it, V. Really, really, really. Each day I wanted to pulse-com you and explain but each day I didn’t do it, it became more difficult to do the next. And Jenner didn’t make it easy.” A bleak, tormented scowl washes across his handsome face.
“What did she do?” I cross my arms and glare at him.
“She became a royal bitch. She said I needed to prove to her that I was committed. Me. The guy who’s never strayed. Ever. She’s always hated you. This was just her way of trying to control me. I wanted out. Only I wanted to do the right thing. She’d betrayed me and I needed some shred of integrity. I didn’t want to leave her by doing what she did to me. Not that the woman of my dreams was interested.”
He gives me a piercing, pointed look that turns my insides to slush.
“So I decided to take the high road and give her what she wanted. All the while I was making plans for escape, getting all my assets in order. We were never married but I figured she’d try something. I wanted to be protected when I gave her the boot.”
I nod. “That makes sense, I suppose.” It did lessen the sting.
“I’m a wealthy man, as you well know.”
I nod again. I really have no idea. We never talked about money. That’s what married couples do. “You just never play the wealth card. I’ve always been impressed by that.”
“Thanks. Hard-won wealth needn’t be flaunted. Anyway, she said the only comfort she got was with Brian, he was her support, and that was all, blah, blah, blah. She supposedly confided in him to sort things out with me. But come on. That kiss we saw? That was her way of getting comforted by the cree
p? It was complete bullshit. And she was utter hell to live with. It was my purgatory. I knew she was lying but I…”
He turns to me and the anguish in his eyes almost makes me reach out to comfort him. Almost…
“After breaking your heart, I thought I deserved to be punished by staying with her a while longer. I also wanted to let her hang herself. I knew she was fucking Brian. I’m not an idiot. And I told you I was making plans for the end. It was just a matter of time and scrutiny.”
“So you got your evidence, sir?” I smile, thinking of being in the restaurant with him that night.
He lets out a sigh of exasperation. “Boy, did I. I found her virtual trail. Apparently, she had also done some ‘favors’…” he makes air quotes around the word, “for my bookkeeper to cover up the trail.” He launched a tortured glance at me. “You can guess the kind of favors she did, right?”
I nod.
“She’s been doing favors all over the place. Fucking bitch. He got fired immediately and she got the boot to the backside she deserved.” His lips tighten in what could only be anger. “Good riddance.”
A bloom of hope stirs in my aching chest. “So, she’s gone?”
“Yes, Vienna, she’s gone. All her stuff is out of my apartment. I’ve tossed, purged, enzymed, composted every scrap of her.”
“You…you didn’t off her, did you?”
“Ha!” Jonas smiles. “I may have had a gruesome fantasy or two—more like how would I react if I got a call that something happened to her, but no. She just got her walking papers. She’s with nobody right at the moment, as far as I know, but I have no doubt that will change. That girl can wheedle herself into even the smartest guy’s pants.”
“Or, the stupidest,” I say, jabbing him in the chest.
Jonas captures my hand. “Or that.” He brings my hand to his lips and kisses my fingertips.
Warmth seeps into my hand from his touch. My eyes close, savoring the sensation.
Jonas releases my fingers and my eyes flutter open abruptly. He’s staring at the door to my Headspace. “But then I needed more proof that I stood a chance with you—before I commed you, that is.” His face is a solid stone mask. “How’s your job going?”
