“So sorry to disappoint you.”
Grabbing her hand, he tried again. “I know you’re feeling better, Maggie. Things are going well. But I moved in here and worked at the bar so I could keep an eye on you. I didn’t trust anyone else to do it.”
She slid away from him and crossed her arms. “You told me you were working at the bar to get money for Cara. That it was Ryan’s idea for you to move in.”
“I stretched the truth a little.”
“You lied.”
“But I did it for the right reasons. If I told you the truth, you would’ve been pissed.”
“I am pissed.”
He tamped down his own anger. And hurt. The pain always accompanied the guilt. “Don’t you get it? I couldn’t live through that again. If I had paid closer attention five years ago . . . If I had watched you then—”
Her voice was quiet but strong. “There wasn’t a damn thing you could’ve done. Nothing that happened was your fault.”
Her words didn’t erase the guilt. “Maybe not my fault, but I could’ve prevented it.”
“Don’t turn this around. I don’t want to feel sorry for you right now, Shane. You lied to me. You acted like you were in my corner. Like you believed in me. But you’re no better than my brothers.”
He reached out again, but she backed away. “Being like your brothers isn’t a bad way to live. They care about you and love you and want you to be safe.”
“By treating me like a child.”
“Have I ever treated you like anything other than the woman you are? Maybe I didn’t go about it the best way—”
She snorted hard enough that the neighbors probably heard.
“But my intentions were good. And I’m being honest now because I don’t want there to be lies between us.”
“So it’s okay to lie when we’re neighbors and have to work together, but as soon as that convenience is over, it’s time to come clean?”
“No. I don’t want lies to be between us as a couple. I want us to be a goddamn couple, and you’re not making this easy.”
She stopped whatever she was going to say and stood with her mouth hanging open. That wasn’t exactly the way he’d planned to approach the topic, but it was out there now.
“Oh, my God. I can’t believe you.”
Not the reaction he was going for. She sounded even more pissed, if that was possible.
“How could you? You figure that playing the guilt card didn’t work so now you play on my insecurities when it comes to relationships? Get out.”
What? He didn’t even understand what she was saying. “I’m not playing anything, Maggie.”
She didn’t answer, but turned her back on him. “Go home, Shane. I have to get ready for work.”
Shane left her and went back to his apartment totally bewildered. He’d known she’d be mad, but he hadn’t expected it to be that bad. He felt like he just fucked up the best thing in his life by being honest. The most he could hope for now was to give her time and space to cool off. To process what he’d said.
Then he’d try to explain again. He had to make her understand.
She couldn’t believe Shane’s audacity. How could he use her emotions against her? She just got to the point where she could have a relationship, and he toyed with her to get her to do what he wanted. She was half surprised he didn’t try to blame that on Ryan as well.
She stomped through her apartment cleaning up their dinner mess, and then she changed her clothes to look professional for the fun fest for a school district she was covering for the paper. After work, she had another date with Eli. Tonight, she’d planned to tell him about being raped. Although they’d known each other only a couple of weeks, she knew most guys were looking to get laid a few dates into a relationship.
The fun fest was lively, but exhausting. She took lots of photos, and then she headed back into the city to meet Eli. She wondered how he would take it. He would be the first guy she ever talked to about it. Her stomach revolted, and she regretted the pizza she’d had with Shane earlier.
Eli wanted to meet at a bar, and she figured since it was the middle of the week, they could find a quiet corner to talk. She could do this. She’d talked to Shane about all of it, even some of her freakishness, and he hadn’t walked away.
But he’s Shane. He never leaves.
Parking in the lot of the neighborhood bar Eli had chosen, she told that little voice to shut the hell up. She was still pissed at Shane. No warm fuzzy feelings for him today.
She flipped her visor down, checked her makeup, and smiled. No, she didn’t look nervous, not at all. As she walked into the bar, she pulled out her phone and texted Eli.
He responded, Parking now. Be right in.
While she waited, she scoped out the place, looking for a quiet booth. She found one that faced the door, so she could see Eli come in. She hung her jacket on the hook on the edge of the booth and sat.
Eli walked through the door, phone in hand, and scanned the bar. It took him a couple of sweeps and her waving for him to see her. He strode over, kissed her cheek, and took the spot across from her.
“Hi. How are you?”
“Good.”
“Looks like you survived Saint Patrick’s Day.”
“Barely. It was crazy all weekend.”
A waitress interrupted. Maggie ordered water and Eli ordered a brandy. Maggie tried not to cringe. This would definitely test her.
When the waitress left, Eli said, “So, what did you want to talk about?”
Maggie wished she’d ordered her drink when she came in. It would give her hands something to do besides fidget. “I like you.”
“That’s good because I like you too.”
“But I need to tell you something before we try to take our relationship further.”
The waitress dropped off their drinks, and Maggie took a gulp of water. Setting the glass back on the table, she used it as an anchor. “I haven’t been with many guys. In fact, I’ve dated very little compared to most women my age.” Another deep breath. “That’s because five years ago I was raped.”
Once the words came out, she wanted to hide. She had nothing to be embarrassed about. She knew that in her head, but something else washed over her and crawling under the table sounded like a good idea. Her eyes left the cool ice in her glass and met Eli’s.
“Wow. I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything. It’s just important that you know.”
“Did they get the guy?”
The air left her lungs. Her heart squeezed. Her throat thickened. Of all the questions she thought he might ask, this hadn’t been one. How should she answer?
Slowly, carefully, she pushed words from her mouth. “I knew who it was. He was my ex-boyfriend.”
Confusion came into Eli’s eyes. “Oh. So it wasn’t like he dragged you into an alley and tore off your clothes or something.”
A burst of anger hit her. It seemed as though she had an abundance of that to go around today. “That doesn’t make it any less of a rape.”
“I didn’t mean . . . I just . . .” He drank his brandy in one gulp. The glass hit the table with a loud thunk. “I get that it was rape, but it’s not the same, you know. The level of violence.”
Her anger turned to rage. This was part of why she never wanted to talk to people about this. Her hands shook, and she clasped them in her lap. After clenching and unclenching her jaw a couple of times, she leaned forward. “My ex-boyfriend drugged me and raped me. I was incapacitated and couldn’t give consent. He put his dick inside me. Without my permission. What greater violation is there?”
She stood. She had to get out of here. While she yanked her jacket off the hook, Eli stood.
“Maggie, wait.”
She turned to face him, but the disgust she felt right now wouldn’t allow her to hear anything.
“I wasn’t trying to upset you.”
“But you weren’t very thoughtful either. I’m leav
ing.”
“Are you okay to drive?”
“I’m fine.” She walked away from him, repeating that all the way to her car. Eli was not the first person to take that attitude with her, and she knew better than to let it get to her like this, but she couldn’t help it. It was easier to not have this conversation with people.
Her hands were still shaking when she got to her car. She started the engine, but just sat while her body calmed and she got her emotions in check.
She should’ve known. At the kiss, she should’ve known. Shane had been right. If the kiss was wrong, it wouldn’t work. She needed to follow her gut. Her brain engaged with too much noise. Her gut would tell her what felt right.
Shane packed his meager belongings into the boxes he never got around to throwing out when he’d moved in. Something to be said for laziness. It seemed silly to pack when he had nowhere to go yet, but he needed something to do. Dwelling on his conversation with Maggie wasn’t doing him a lick of good.
He did some apartment hunting but was too restless to even focus. What he wouldn’t give to have a TV right now. Shit, he’d settle for a couch to sit on. The apartment looked good, though, so Ryan shouldn’t have a problem finding a renter.
The cookie plate Janet gave him sat on his counter, and an idea struck. He could return the plate and maybe get invited in. She probably had a TV he could watch. So it was a little disingenuous, but he was desperate. His only other choice was the bar downstairs or his parents’ house. Or maybe Alyson might be home. He shot Alyson a quick text.
She answered: Sure come on over.
That was a relief. Going to see Janet would probably give her the wrong idea, and he’d done enough of that for one night. He drove over to his sister’s apartment and, after circling the block, found a spot that would allow him to park without a permit. As he walked down the street to her building, he filled his lungs with fresh air. It was still cold, but the barest hint of spring was there.
He couldn’t wait. The winter had lasted much too long, and he loved summer. He rang Alyson’s bell, and she buzzed him up. She met him at the door with a worried expression.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Then why are you here? You never visit me.”
He took off his coat and hung it on a hook near the door. “I’m bored and I live in an apartment with no furniture and no TV.”
She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. “There’s more.”
He walked past her and patted her shoulder. “Maybe. But it’s nothing I want to talk about. Got any beer?”
She sighed. “In the fridge.”
When he came back to the living room, he took a spot on the recliner she had facing the TV.
“Did you have something special you wanted to watch, or can I pick?”
He slugged back some beer. He could’ve stayed at the bar and gotten drunk without worrying about driving home. All he wanted to do was forget the fiasco with Maggie. “Whatever you want.”
“Excellent. I have The Bachelor: After the Final Rose saved on my DVR. I’ve been waiting for this.”
He groaned. Getting drunk at O’Leary’s was looking better by the moment. Alyson curled up on the couch with a huge bowl of popcorn on her lap and glass of pop on the table. Shane moved to sit next to her to steal her popcorn. She absently handed him the bowl as the show opened with scenes of some sap handing out roses.
“You can’t possibly believe any of this is real, right?”
“Shhh.” She waved a hand at him.
He grunted and shoved more popcorn into his mouth. The show wasn’t as boring as he’d thought it would be. Some snippy remarks by one woman nearly led to a cat fight. That would’ve been worth watching. Instead they played a montage meant to show how in love the couple was. As if.
When the forty-three minutes rolled to an end, Shane reached for the remote. “I cannot sit through something like that again.”
Alyson shot him a look. “No sports.”
She sounded like Maggie. Damn. He was here trying to forget Maggie. He flipped through channels, but felt Alyson’s eyes on him. “Stop staring at me.”
“I’m trying to figure out what the deal is. You’re in my apartment when you could’ve gone to Mom and Dad’s. Or Maggie’s. Didn’t Dad tell me you lived next door to each other?”
“She’s not home.”
“Why here?”
“Because you’re my favorite sister.”
“Now I know you’re full of shit.”
He tossed the remote on her lap. “You choose something if it’ll keep you quiet.”
“Oh, now you’ve done it. No Callahan man has ever given up the remote without cause. Do I need to call Cara and Riley? You know you don’t stand a chance when we’re together.”
“Alyson. Shut. Up.”
“Okay, must be girl trouble. If it was work or something equally as boring, you’d never want to keep it from me. I didn’t know you were dating anyone.”
“I’m not.”
She pulled out her phone. “I’m texting Cara. She’ll have ideas.”
Shane snatched her phone and shoved it between the couch cushions.
“So Cara knows but you won’t tell me?”
“This isn’t a joke, Alyson. I came here to forget shit tonight.”
“Well, someone taught you wrong. You don’t forget with a bottle of beer and The Bachelor. You need shots for that.” She stood and went to her kitchen. She returned with a bottle of cheap whiskey and shot glasses.
She set the glasses and poured. “To forgetting.” She raised a glass and tossed the whiskey back.
Shane followed suit. After Alyson poured him two more shots, he felt better.
“Now are you gonna tell me?”
“I fucked up.”
She laughed. “You’re a guy. Guys always fuck up. Who with?”
“Maggie.”
“Ah, damn. What’d you do? Try to get in her pants?”
He chuckled. “Didn’t try. Succeeded, and it was her idea.”
“Yay!” She smiled and was about to clap, but then frowned. “That’s not what you want to forget, is it?”
“No. I want to forget shit I said tonight. It’s complicated. I lied to her, but it was for a good reason. I came clean tonight because I wanted to tell her we should give us a shot. Somewhere in the conversation, she twisted everything up and thought I was manipulating her.” He filled his glass again and downed the whiskey.
“Were you?”
“Hell, no. She didn’t believe anything I said.”
“Well, in her defense, you did just admit to being a liar. Why should she believe you?”
He knew he’d had too much to drink when his sister’s logic made sense.
“So where did it go wrong, other than the lying part?”
“I think I blurted out that I wanted us to be a goddamn couple and she was being difficult.”
Alyson reached for the bottle and poured him another shot. “You’re an idiot.”
“I know.” He drank. “Why’d you say that?”
“Because that was no declaration of love. You made a demand and called her names. More or less. Was that supposed to win her over?”
“No. That’s not how it was supposed to go. But she got so mad and she was yelling and accusing me of things and said she wouldn’t feel sorry for me.” He sagged against the couch.
“Why the hell would she feel sorry for you?”
“She shouldn’t, but she thought I wanted her to. ’Cause I feel guilty about her getting raped. And I should feel guilty. It was my job to keep her safe, and I fucked up then too.” His head lolled to the left, and his sister looked a little blurry. “Am I ever gonna get it right?”
“You’re drunk.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You’re not. How’d that happen?”
“A sister never shares her secrets.”
“Not cool.”
“You’ll get it right, Shane. She loves you.”<
br />
“But I want it all with her. Not just part of her. And she’s looking to give it all to some other guy.” He pointed at Alyson. “Eli. What kind of lame name is that?”
“Is he cute?”
“Hey! You’re supposed to be on my side.” He grabbed a handful of popcorn. “And I’m better looking anyway.”
“Modesty’s not a problem here.”
“Did I eat dinner?” He thought back through his night. His stomach sloshed the alcohol around. Pizza. He’d eaten pizza with Maggie. It felt like forever ago.
“Are you hungry? I can make you a sandwich. I think I have peanut butter and jelly.”
“I hate peanut butter.”
“You do?”
“You’re my sister. How come you don’t know that? Maggie knows it.”
“Maybe Maggie likes you more than I do. You crashed my party here, remember?”
“Lamest party I’ve ever been to.”
“You’re calling me lame? You’re the one who’s drunk at ten o’clock.”
“Good point.” He smiled at Alyson. He liked his sisters. Not when they were kids. They were just annoying then. But now that they were all grown. They were actual people he could relate to. “Hey, Aly?”
“What?”
“I don’t think I’m driving home tonight.”
“You’re definitely not going anywhere.” She stood and disappeared.
He tried to focus on the bottle to pour another glass, but his perception was off and he couldn’t grab it.
“You’ve had enough,” Alyson said when she came back. She tossed a pillow and blanket at him. “Sleep it off. I’ll wake you up before I go to work in the morning.”
“Thanks, Aly.”
When Shane woke the following morning, he had a horrible case of cottonmouth and a thumping headache. No, that wasn’t a headache, it was awful music. He pushed off the couch and looked across the room. Alyson was dancing in her kitchen to some crap that sounded like someone banging trash can lids.
She smiled sweetly at him and handed him a cup of coffee. “I tried to wake you up nicely, but you were dead. Looks like the music worked.”
He waved a hand at her. “Can you turn it off now?”
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