by J. Saman
I enter my room, dropping down onto my bed face first with a heavy bounce, sinking contentedly into the plush bedding. My eyes shut instantly only to open again what feels like two minutes later to a pounding on my door. A groan slips from my lips as I pry myself out of bed slowly before putting my glasses back on. The bright red numbers of the bedside clock tell me that it’s 7:14.
Shit. How did that happen?
It’s still too early for that to be Katie, but I’m not surprised when I open the door to see Tommy on the other side. “What’s up, dude? You look like shit.” His standard greeting.
“You too, asshat.” Tommy brushes past me, dropping himself into a chair and kicking his feet up on the desk. “Make yourself at home,” I say dryly.
“Hey, I got you these nice digs.” I throw him a look and he holds his hands up in surrender. “Which you more than deserve,” he amends quickly.
“What are you doing here, man?” I yawn, rubbing my hands up and down my face under my glasses, trying to wipe the sleep away. “I thought we said eight?”
“We did, but I wanted to get here early to talk some business, and to find out about the lady you’re traveling with.” He bounces his eyebrows at me suggestively.
“What business?” I ask, ignoring the comment about Katie. I’m just not ready to share her with this douchebag yet.
“It’s about a new app I’m developing.” His fingers intertwine behind his head as he leans back casually in the chair. “I’d like you to take a look for me. Do all the usual checks and when it hits market, I’ll give you fifteen percent.”
“Twenty,” I respond in a bored tone like it doesn’t matter much to me either way, because even though I’m curious about what he’s got going on, the money doesn’t drive me anymore.
He pretends to think this over for a minute, his dark eyes slightly narrowed at me. “All right. Twenty.” This must be important to him otherwise he never would have caved that easily. “I’ll send it over to you later.”
“Sure,” I walk over to my suitcase and pull out a t-shirt and jeans for me to change into after I shower. My hand comes up to scratch my beard, which has gotten way out of control. I should trim it, but I don’t have the energy to do it tonight.
“So, this girl?” he starts, and I should have known he wouldn’t let it go. “Katie Taylor is it?”
“It’s Kate to you, dicklick.”
He smiles that wide, greasy smile I hate. “But she’s Katie to you?”
“Don’t start,” I warn, because Katie is different and I don’t want him making her uncomfortable. “She’s been through more than you can imagine, so none of the usual slimy bullshit you like to pull with women.”
“Slimy bullshit?” Tommy says with mock indignation. “I’m always a perfect gentleman.” He smiles again and it sort of makes me want to punch in his perfect teeth. “So she’s hot, huh? Smoking body?”
I do my best to hide my frustration and anger, because he’ll just feed off of it.
“Tommy, I’m not messing with you on this. She’s been through the deepest levels of hell man. I’m not gonna say it again. Don’t.”
I sit on the edge of the bed and level him with my eyes. It’s not my place to tell Katie’s story and from what I can decipher about her in the brief time we’ve spent together, she doesn’t like to talk about herself. So I won’t do that, but Tommy needs to know she’s off the market all the same.
He examines the deliberate and weighted look I’m giving, and then ever so slowly, his arrogant, cocky grin slips and he nods. “I’ll be good,” he promises.
“Thanks, man. I’m going to go grab a quick shower. I’ll meet you down in the bar.”
“You kicking me out?”
“Absolutely.” I stand up and head towards the bathroom. “As much as I love you, I’d rather not have you in my room when I come out of the shower naked. See you at eight.”
I shut the bathroom door, effectively dismissing him and start the shower. In the back of my mind, I know that once Tommy sees Katie, he’ll push the limit with her. Katie is tenacious and I have a feeling she can hold her own, but the thought of him hitting on her and making her uncomfortable grates on me.
I feel protective over her for some reason.
Maybe it’s what I know she’s been through, or that I know she’s in search of a new life.
I don’t want a piece of shit like Tommy to hinder any progress she’s making with it. Whatever the hell it is, I want to see that smile she showed me earlier on her sweet face again, and I’ll do what I have to do to make that happen.
By the time I shower, throw on my clothes and run a brush through my hair it’s almost eight, so I check my phone and write out a few emails before I need to grab Katie.
When the knock on my door comes, it surprises me.
Girls are always late, and I figured Katie was no different. When I open the door, my fucking breath catches in my damn lungs as I take her in.
Katie is stunning.
She’s wearing a dark pink halter neck dress that looks like it’s made out of the softest cotton, hugging her curves and stopping just above her knees. Matching strappy wedge sandals adorn her adorable feet. Her long, platinum blonde hair is piled on top of her head in a messy bun and she’s wearing just enough makeup to make her golden skin look sun-kissed and radiant. Her lips are a glossy raspberry and her eyes sparkle with a hint of something silvery.
“You look beautiful,” I say before I can stop it.
She smiles sweetly. “You look good yourself,” she nods at my graphic tee and for once I wish I was wearing something nice. I look down with a slight scowl. “No,” she says quickly, obviously noting my expression. “I’m serious.” I look back up at her and she’s nodding in approval.
“You ready?” I ask and she nods, taking a step back to allow me to walk out. “You’re taller,” I comment looking down at her.
“Four inches, but I’ll take what I can get. You make me feel like a Lilliputian,” she laughs. “I needed to help that out a bit.”
“Does that make me Gulliver?” I laugh.
“Yeah. Sorry,” she looks up at me with wide eyes. “You are sort of a giant next to me.”
We step off the elevator and I point towards the bar where we’re meeting Tommy. “How tall are you?”
“Five foot one and a half,” she says and I laugh out.
“That half an inch makes all the difference, huh?”
“You bet your ass it does. Us little people need those precious half inches.”
We enter the well-lit bar and I spot Tommy nursing a beer down at the end of it under one of the televisions. “Well, tonight you’re five foot five and a half.”
She nods, smiling big like that was the best compliment anyone has ever given her.
Damn this girl is easy to please.
Tommy spots us, holding a finger up in the air before tossing some money on the counter as he downs the rest of his beer, then heads in our direction. His eyes widen as he takes in Katie and then a slow easy smile spreads across his face.
I know that look.
And it pisses me the fuck off.
Tommy stops in front of us, staring right at Katie and waiting patiently for an introduction I now don’t want to make.
“Katie, this is Tommy Madigan,” I say to her before looking at Tommy. “Tommy, this is Kate,” I emphasize her name to him.
Tommy sticks out his hand and she places hers into his. “A pleasure,” he says in a sultry tone, and instead of shaking her hand, he kisses the back of it. Douchebag.
Katie doesn’t fall for it. “You too.” She gently pulls her hand out of his grasp. “Thank you for the room, it’s very nice.”
“It’s my pleasure,” he purrs, taking a small step into her personal space. “I would have offered for you to stay with me in my apartment. It’s so big and I rarely have people to share it with—” I roll my eyes. “—but Ryan here,” Tommy juts hi
s thumb in my direction, “insisted on a hotel,” he says this like it’s the most selfish thing in the world. Dick.
“That’s so kind of you to have offered your home to us, but Ryan knows how much I love hotels, so he was doing me a favor with that,” she smiles sweetly, and inside I’m half shocked and half smug. She just fucking nailed him and we all know it.
“Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying it then,” he looks to me. “We should go.”
We walk into The Hamilton and are seated quickly in one of the livelier bar areas. This place is big and crowded and loud, and Katie has gone quiet since we entered.
The waitress comes over, and after Tommy flirts with her for a few minutes, he orders us a round of tequila shots and margaritas. I have no idea what kind of drinker Katie is, but I don’t want her getting sick so when the waitress comes back with our drinks, I suggest that we order some food.
After we place our order, the waitress leaves and Tommy raises his shot glass after he and I both salt up our hands. Katie doesn’t, I note.
“To nights we’ll never remember shared with friends we’ll never forget.” It’s the same toast he’s been using since college, but I don’t comment and neither does Katie.
I lick my salty hand, smashing the granules between the roof of my mouth and my tongue before tossing back the clear liquid. It burns all the way down my throat and I quickly take the lime into my mouth, sucking out the juice to ease it.
Tequila has never been my favorite. I’ll do it because it’s there, but I don’t order it for myself.
Katie closes her eyes as she drinks hers down, lowering her glass back to the table and licking her lips like she’s savoring the flavor.
I stare, mesmerized, and I can feel Tommy doing the same, because damn that’s sexy as hell. Her eyes open and she picks up a lime wedge, sucking on it once before dropping it into her glass and licking the remaining juice off her fingers.
“Jesus Kate, if I knew you took shots like that, I wouldn’t have ordered anything else.” I’m not really disagreeing with him on this, but I still throw him a look that says be careful.
Katie blushes, clearing her throat.
“How long have you lived in D.C., Tommy?” she asks, changing the subject away from herself.
“I moved here after I graduated MIT.” He pretends to think about this, but I know he’s hoping that Katie will remark on where he went to school. She won’t. She’s not impressed by bullshit like that. “Nine years, I guess,” he finishes when she doesn’t indulge him.
Katie nods, pulling the elastic from her hair and letting her long blonde mane tumble down her back as her fingers massage her scalp.
“Look, Mommy.” A little girl’s voice startles us, our heads turning in unison to the sound. “It’s Rapunzel,” the little girl with brown hair and eyes says, pointing at Katie.
The mother looks mortified and bends down to her daughter. “No, sweetie. That’s not Rapunzel.” She looks up at Katie. “Sorry.”
Katie waves her away like it’s nothing before she looks at the little girl with a soft smile that lights up her eyes.
“Is Rapunzel your favorite princess?” she asks and the little girl nods enthusiastically. “Mine too,” she winks conspiratorially. The little girl, who can’t be any older than five, giggles.
“Mommy and Daddy are taking me to Disney World to meet her next week.”
“You’re such a lucky girl. I’m jealous,” Katie smiles and the mother thanks her with her eyes before leading her daughter away from us.
The second they’re gone, Katie’s smile falls and her expression morphs into utter devastation.
“Excuse me,” she whispers, getting up and walking in the direction of the bathroom.
Tommy throws me a look that asks what just happened, but doesn’t say anything. She’s gone a good five minutes and I’m stuck here listening to Tommy blather on about bullshit I could care less about.
My mind is stuck on Katie.
When she returns, our food has arrived, but she just picks at her burger, hardly eating a bite. The difference in her is extreme and I feel terrible for it, considering I know the cause.
Only someone who has experienced that kind of loss can understand what she’s feeling, but that doesn’t mean I don’t sympathize.
Tommy prattles on the entire time and either he’s completely oblivious to the shift in her demeanor, or he’s trying to compensate. Regardless of the reason, I’m grateful for it because I find myself at a loss for words as well.
After dinner Katie says she’s tired and wants to head back to the hotel. I insist on walking her despite her protests, with the promise of meeting Tommy back at the bar.
Katie’s reticent the entire walk back, completely lost in her thoughts. When we get to her door, she turns and looks at me, and the despair I see cuts me to the quick.
I want to reach out and hug her. I want to hold her in my arms and take away every ounce of pain I see leaching from her gorgeous eyes. But I can’t do any of that with her so I just stand here like a chump instead.
“I’m sorry about how I acted at dinner,” she laughs nervously. “I swear I’ll be better company tomorrow.”
“You were perfect.” She’s staring at the carpet. “Do you want me to stay with you?” I offer, not really knowing what else to do at this point.
Her eyes fly up to mine and a small smile touches her lips, which I take as a personal victory.
“No. I’m just going to go sleep this off. Thank you, though. That’s…” she looks over toward the wall like she’s searching for the right word before turning her attention back to me, “really great of you. Go have fun. I’m fine. Good night, Ryan. It’s been an interesting first day with you.”
And with that, she walks into her room and shuts the door, leaving me feeling a little lost and a lot out of sorts.
Chapter 5
Kate
Ryan didn’t mention my mini mental freak-out. I had woken up the next morning early as hell, hit the gym, ate breakfast in the concierge lounge and was done before eight. But when I got back to my room, I saw a text from Ryan asking if I was up for breakfast. I was surprised that he was awake early, since I assumed he had stayed out late drinking with his friend Tommy, who was nice enough, I guess.
Ryan ate without me since I already had, and then we mutually agreed to move on from D.C. We decide to haul it down to Nags Head, North Carolina, which is freaking beautiful.
The sand dunes and the waves are so captivating that we sit on the beach together for a few hours just staring out at the Atlantic. We end up only staying one night and don’t do much with it other than dinner and sleep, mostly because I told Ryan I really want to go to Charleston, which is a long drive.
He was fine with that. Ryan seems to be fine with everything.
I like that about him.
Ryan is driving and we’re listening to Cold War Kids—a band I really enjoy, but haven’t heard before all that much.
“What’s your favorite band, Ryan?” I ask, needing something to talk about since we’ve got a seven-hour drive ahead of us.
“Hmmm.”
He looks out his window briefly before turning his eyes back to the road. He looks so giant driving my little car, though I imagine he’d look big driving almost anything. I shift in my seat so I’m facing him, drawing my knees up and tucking them under me.
“Honestly, I don’t know if I have a favorite,” he emphasizes the word. “I like a lot of different music, and find myself listening to different things depending on my mood or where I’m at in my life.” I secretly love that answer. A lot actually.
“But you tend to listen to more indie stuff?”
It’s not really a question. Thus far every time he’s driven it’s been music on his phone, and it’s ranged from Artic Monkeys, to Taking Back Sunday, to Cage the Elephant, and now Cold War Kids.
“I guess,” he shrugs before catching my eye quickly with a
smirk attached to his lips. “We seem to have that in common.”
“We do,” I nod in agreement and then laugh out suddenly. “Eric used to complain every time he was in the car with me.”
Ryan tenses up and I suddenly feel bad about bringing Eric up. I’m sure my talking about him makes him apprehensive. People never know what to say when you talk about loved ones who are dead. Especially when they died so young and tragically, but suddenly I’m in the mood to talk about him.
I need to talk about him.
“He used to listen to only classic rock, which was okay, just not my favorite,” I smile, looking out the window at the beautiful scenery we’re passing because damn, it’s so pretty here. My fingers play with my necklace. “That is until we had Maggie, and all she liked to hear was Disney radio.”
“Disney radio?”
“Yup,” I nod with wide eyes to show my suffering. “It was terrible, but she loved it and would sing along to everything, butchering the words the way only a two-year-old can.” I smile to let him know that it’s okay and that I won’t shut down on him.
“How did you meet Eric?” he asks softly, hesitantly, like just saying his name could set me off, and I feel bad about that.
I hate making people diffident with my misery and that’s clearly what I’ve done. I make a note to suffer in silence a bit more around Ryan, who’s been nothing but nice and easygoing since we started on this strange venture together.
“His family moved down the street from me when we were twelve. My mom and I went over to welcome them to the neighborhood, and Eric and I ended up playing together all day.” I smile thinking back on that day. He was so damn cute. So sweet and funny and perfect. “Two weeks later he asked me out for ice cream,” I shrug, because I don’t want to think about the ice cream.
“For real?” He looks over at me quickly before looking back out to the road. “You’re telling me you were with him since you were twelve?” His tone is completely incredulous and I can understand why. Everyone that I’ve ever told reacts this way.
