“You say that every time and yet…” She sighed again. “Look, that conversation was going to go the same as every other: if he even bothered showing up, he’d lead you on, make you believe he was a changed man, and then he’d screw the next bitch in heels to walk past. I mean, God, if it’s not proof enough that he was found in the car with some hooker, I don’t know what else you need to go through to see it’s never going to work.”
“Zoe, please.” I pulled open a drawer, grabbed a spoon, and began ladling cookie dough onto the sheet tray. “I’m going to go to the hospital in a little bit, so just…don’t. Okay.”
The continuing silence made the fine hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I wanted to turn around, see what she was doing, how she was acting, but I knew if I did the tears would spill and they just couldn’t. You’d think after being down this road as many times as I already had it would have gotten easier.
But it never really did; in fact, it always seemed to get just a little harder.
“What are you going to do about Tor?” she asked softly.
My spine stiffened at the mention of his name and my brain flashed with images of the two of us entwined, moving and moaning.
Swallowing hard, I plopped a huge glob of dough down before letting the spoon clatter into the sink. “It was a mistake. One I shouldn’t have made. I was just so vulnerable and he was there.”
Opening the oven, I put the cookies in. The temperature wasn’t quite ready yet, but I really didn’t care. Turning around, I leaned against the counter and clamped my hands down. Finally giving her my full attention.
Her lips were thinned and she was looking at me with a mixture of pity and resignation.
I hated that. Hated that that was what always happened whenever the subject of Angel came up. “What are you thinking?” I finally made myself ask.
Wrapping both hands around the red mug, she shook her head. “I doubt very much you want to hear what I’m thinking, J.”
Jutting out my lower jaw, crossing my arms over my chest, I glared at her. “Just tell me, ‘cause if you don’t I’m gonna get pissed off and ignore you for the next few days and then we’ll be doing that whole teary ‘but I really do love you, you’re my best friend’ BS spiel when it’s all said and done, and yeah,” I groaned, “I’m just not in the mood for the drama. You think I shouldn’t go to the hospital, right?”
“Come on, I’m not a totally heartless bitch,” she scoffed, “But I am saying that—”
She paused as she grabbed her purse and dug around in it, then pulled out her phone and texted something. I frowned, stumped by what she was doing.
Smiling, she clicked the screen off and shoved the phone back into her bag. “That you should probably hurry up.”
“What?” I scrunched my face. “What the hell was that?” A bad feeling wormed its way through my belly as I stared at her. “You’re telling me one second that I need to get over Angel and the next you’re rushing me out the door?”
Taking another swallow of coffee, she nodded. “I’ll take care of the cookies. You know how particular Alex can be about them being just right.”
I snorted. “You do realize that I’m the baker and you do not cook. Like, ever. What are you up to? ‘Cause I know you’re up to something.”
She rolled her eyes. “You always think so poorly of me. Look, fact is I was supposed to be at The Garage by now, so I texted Ryko to let him know why I’m late. But seriously, go.” She shooed me.
“Ah.” I looked around. “Do you see how I’m dressed? I’m a wreck. What happened to being there for me and—”
She thinned her pretty red lips. “I’m gonna tell you what I tell Alex: pull on your big boy pants and face it. You don’t get to run away from your problems, J.”
“What. The. Hell?” I snapped, wrapping my arms around my middle. “Are you crazy? That’s exactly what I’m trying to do. I already told you I was going to the hospital. Hello?”
She didn’t say anything. Just got up, grabbed my purse off the lawn chair, and held it out to me by its strap. “Tell him I said hi.”
I was seriously tempted to call her a bitch. But I didn’t, because Zo and I had been through a lot. And there were times in our lives where we agreed to do the whole “tough love” thing, but this was just cruel. Even for her.
Narrowing my eyes, I yanked my purse out of her hands. “Whatever. Lock the damn door behind you and thanks for being such a good friend.”
She probably didn’t deserve that last part, but I was a little too angry to care right now.
Shaking her head, she looked sad again. “Honey, I’m being the type of friend you need, maybe not the one you want. I’m not gonna let you wreck your life.”
Hand on the knob, I knew I was gonna go. I really was. I was going to ignore that last jab and get the hell out before I said something stupid, but my hand refused to obey my brain. Turning on her, I glowered. “You know what, you’re so obsessed with saving me, but it’s not your life to save. My life is fine. So butt out.”
I walked out before she could get a chance to respond back and cringed as I got to my Jeep, because if my life really was so perfect I wouldn’t have called her to come and baby me. But sometimes the truth is the very last thing you want to hear.
Thanks to lunch traffic it took me nearly twenty minutes longer than my normal eighteen to get to the hospital. The second I parked I hopped out, and that’s the moment I realized I’d failed to bring my manuscript.
Thoroughly disgusted with myself by this point, I headed through the main hospital doors. There was no need to ask anyone which floor ICU was on or what I needed to do to check in; I’d been here so many times already the memory was ingrained in my brain.
Pictures of animals, nature, and inspirational quotes littered the white walls. It was the exact same ones, too. A humpback whale diving in deep blue water. A waterfall crashing into boulders. Pink flamingos in flight. The carpet beneath my feet was a dull blue-gray. There were exactly five rows of florescent lights down this particular corridor. Two elevators, one of which took forever to get to open and close its doors. Twenty private rooms, ten on each side. Room seven was painted a cheery blue. Room eleven a vibrant yellow.
My hands shook.
Hidden behind each door was someone so near to death no one was laughing or smiling; vibrant and cheery and cute animals didn’t make any of this better.
Feeling irrationally annoyed, I went to the check-in desk, found out he was in room nine this time, and just as I was about to open the door I made a sudden and quick beeline for the women’s bathroom.
My heart was racing out of control in my chest, my breathing was turning shallow, and if I didn’t watch it, I’d be passed out on the bathroom floor in two seconds.
Bending over, I stuck my head between my knees and took big, deep gulps. It took about a minute before things stopped spinning. Blowing out a shuddery breath, I was just about ready to stand when a toilet flushed.
Mortified at the thought of getting caught, I flew straight up, causing my equilibrium to go out of whack again. Black spots danced in my head as a person I definitely recognized walked out of the stall.
She was as short as me, at least a size smaller, and had a long, curly mane of jet-black hair. Her normally striking brown skin now looked muted, and there were heavy bags under her warm brown eyes.
“Jamie.” Marianna, Angel’s sister, greeted me with a dip of her head. Her voice was scratchy and rough, as if she’d not used it much recently.
Grabbing hold of the wall for support, I lifted a brow. “Hey,” I said softly. Seeing her was making the guilt crash heavy and hard. She’d been the dutiful sister, and it wasn’t like I was Angel’s wife, but as a friend who’d been with him since sophomore year of high school, he’d deserved more than what I’d given him last night.
My daddy had always said to me
growing up that just because someone was mean to me didn’t mean I needed to be mean back. That sometimes being the bigger person meant I had to forgive and move on, even if the other person didn’t deserve it. That unforgiveness was a cancer that would leech the life right out of me if I let it fester for too long.
Daddy had been the smartest man alive and my hero as I’d grown up. And in theory those words had always made sense. Lately, though, it was getting harder and harder for me to do.
Moving to the sink, she shot me a glance in the mirror as she washed her hands. “Called you. About three times last night.”
There was no censure in her words, her tone was without inflection, almost as if she was talking just for the sake of having something to say.
I nodded and about a million different responses went through my brain. But none of them came out. I just continued to cling to the wall with the sort of desperation that came from sheer panic. I didn’t have to look to know my knuckles were turning an ugly shade of white.
How’s Angel? How is Angel? How is he? How’s he?
All those words were rolling on the tip of my tongue, desperate to break free, but just the thought of opening my mouth made me feel nauseous.
Flipping off the faucet, she shook the water from her hands and then wiped them down the front of her blue jean coveralls before looking at me.
“I don’t know about you, but this is getting real old.”
My eyes nearly bugged out of my head. You could have heard a pin drop, the silence was suddenly so loud.
“Wh-what?”
Tucking a curl behind her ear, she shook her head. “Jamie, you know I love my brother. I adore him, but I’m tired. I can’t even imagine what it must be like for you.”
“What?”
Not the ultimate of comebacks, but I literally couldn’t seem to string a coherent thought together.
Chewing on the corner of her lip, she snorted. “I know that sounds callous. But did you know that I was on a date last night? The first one I’d been on in a year. I really like the guy, too. And then I had to go and bail just as dinner came around because of my brother. I love Angel, but sometimes I really hate him too.” Her eyes flicked up at my face and then down at her feet before she said, “I’m surprised you even showed up.”
Hurt that she would assume I wouldn’t, I frowned. “I’m not really sure what you’re trying to tell me here, Marianna.”
“Fine,” she growled, “you want me to spell it out?” Her face scrunched up into an angry mask. “Angel had a mix of coke in his system, along with a blood alcohol level of point one-nine He should be dead. Three times.” She shoved her fingers into my face. “Three times he’s done this. I’m sick of it. Mom’s sick of it. Dad, he’s just..” She sighed. “He’s gonna kill them with stress. Why are you still here, Jamie? He’s a fucking emotional leech.”
Her shoulders shook and then she was sobbing and suddenly my panic was gone. This wasn’t about me anymore. Grabbing her, I pulled her into my arms and let her cry. I’d known Marianna since she was just thirteen and I was fifteen.
Wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands, she gave a soft laugh. “God, I’m a mess. I can’t seem to figure out whether to be pissed at him or depressed. This sucks.”
“Welcome to the club.” I grinned.
But the moment soon passed and once again the enormity of the situation crashed down on the both of us. She looked at me and I looked at her.
“In a lot of ways,” she said, smiling, revealing the chip on her upper left tooth she’d gotten during softball practice four years ago, “we’re like sisters. But I always kind of wanted you as my real one.”
I frowned. “I am a real one.”
“No.” Twisting her lips, she walked to the door. “Jamie, he’s never going to ask you to marry him.”
With those words she walked out, and I grew cold from head to toe.
There’d been a time when I was so sure that was exactly what I wanted. After high school when he and I both had gotten accepted to the university my plans had been date through college, get married, have kids right away.
And that was the way it was gonna be. I just knew we were well on our way to having that fairytale romance.
My parents couldn’t wait, his family was ecstatic, we’d been written in the stars. Romeo and Juliet, fated to be. But just like that couple, the universe conspired against us.
July twenty-first, two months to the day from when we’d graduated high school—that was when it’d all gone to hell. The car accident that changed everyone’s lives forever. Like the proverbial domino being tipped against its neighbor, bringing the entire stack down, that was what that accident had been.
It’d ruined everyone who knew and loved Angel. His dad, mom, Marianna…me.
Shaking my head, I walked over to the sink, turned on the faucet, and wiped my face down. Needing another minute before I felt brave enough to go in there.
Staring at my pinched features in the mirror, I wondered what Tor saw in me. What about any of this was attractive? Pale skin, dark bags, bloodshot eyes.
Snatching a paper towel, I wiped my face down, tossed the towel in the garbage bin, and walked out. Determined to get in there and do my duty to the Romeros.
But the instant I walked out I was greeted by a sight that froze me cold.
Tor’s giant body was squeezed into a small hospital chair in the waiting room. He was holding on to my blue suede pump from last night and had his chin on his fist, staring at the carpet.
He looked so sullen, almost dejected, that for a split second my heart turned to mush. Even in the harsh light of day the man called to me on a visceral level. But my common sense was no longer dulled by too much liquor.
Ready to turn tail and run, I took two giant steps back, but as if sensing my presence, he looked up right before I could make myself scarce and I knew he saw me because his eyes narrowed.
Caught like a freaking deer in headlights, I could only stare on in horror as he walked my way. Breathing hard, I was able to take six breaths before his scent of soap tickled my senses. An older woman walking down the hall at the same time glanced up at him with a mixture of awe and curiosity.
Tor sort of inspired that in me, too.
“Hey,” he whispered when he was within earshot.
“Hi?” I dropped my brows, glanced around, and then whispered, “What are you doing here?”
He licked his front teeth, and that’s when I noticed he had his hair pulled back. Dressed in a black shirt and scuffed-up jeans, he looked amazing, and I felt even more exposed, more naked than I had last night.
Leaning back on my heels, I slipped my hands into my pockets, wishing I’d at least ironed out the wrinkles in my clothes.
He rubbed a hand over his head and shrugged. “Zoe texted me, told me to come here.”
“Of course she did,” I bit out, realizing the wench had lied to me. She’d probably never even texted Ryko. The second that dawned on me I also understood that the ‘say hi to him for me’ wasn’t for Angel, but Tor.
I nodded when he handed me my shoe. Which was about as damning a confession to what had happened between us last night as if I’d just spoken the words out loud. Tipping it toward him, I murmured a quick thank you. Heat crept into my cheeks.
Nibbling on my lip, I realized things were getting super awkward super quick. One-night stands didn’t generally meet up the next day. I mean, that was sort of the unwritten rule about those things, right? What happened the night before remained there and life moved on.
“Stop,” he half-growled.
Frowning, I glanced up. “Stop what?”
“Stop overthinking this. We slept together, we’re consenting adults.” He shrugged. “Go visit Angel, I’ll stay out here.”
My brows gathered. “You’re really going to sit out here while I go inside
and visit with my friend? Doesn’t that strike you as a little, I dunno…” I wiggled my wrist. “Weird?”
His thick jaw clenched. Man, he had such a nice one.
I cleared my throat.
“I want to talk about what happened last night,” he said, taking a step closer.
“You said we wouldn’t.”
“I know what I said. But I think if we don’t we won’t get beyond this.”
“Do you want to get beyond this?” Why was I asking him that question? Fact was, we needed things to stay as they were. My life was too screwed up right now for this. Whatever this even was.
Reaching out, he trailed his fingers along my cheek and my lashes fluttered. My pulse quivered, speeding up for a fraction of a second, and I sucked in a sharp breath as the memories of last night were breathed back to fiery life.
“I do. I’ve wanted to get to know you for a long time, Jamie Sullivan.”
On his left hand he wore a silver ring with a Maltese cross trimmed in red on it. I’m not sure why I noticed that. But I did. Just like I noticed that he wore black leather boots. That there was a small hole at his left knee, but it didn’t make his jeans look raggedy, more like it was intentional, that he didn’t care, and so he was all the hotter because of it.
Wetting my lips, I shook my head. “I’m not in a good place, Tor.”
He rolled his eyes, dropped his hand, and said, “When are we ever? Life is what it is. Bare minimum, when this is all said and done, we’ll be friends. And what’s wrong with having more friends?”
Guys didn’t act like this. They really, really didn’t. Not that I had much experience with men in general, but guys just weren’t this nice.
Right? They wanted one thing. Sex. And if you give it to them, then maybe they wanted more or maybe they didn’t and they’d move on. So did that mean he wanted more? Was that all this was?
“Do you want to have sex with me again?”
He looked as if I’d slapped him, and for a second the panic clawed its way up the back of my throat.
Holding up a hand, I shook my head. “I’m sorry. Zoe always tells me I have diarrhea of the mouth—I say whatever stupid thing pops in there. Look.” I pinched my nose. “I’m going into that room.” I pointed to number nine. “And I don’t blame you if you want to leave. In fact, if you do I promise not to get all crazy about it like some girls would. I’m a hot mess. That’s about as much honesty as you’re ever going to get from a girl. If I were you, I’d check out now.”
Rockers After Dark: 6 Book Bundle of Sexy Musicians Page 58
