Compass

by Deborah Bladon

  “You’re jealous.”

  What the hell?

  “I haven’t slept with her. I won’t be sleeping with her.”

  “With who?” I ask in my best, slightly tipsy but nonchalant voice.

  It comes out at a much higher pitch than I intended.

  “Callie. She’s Zeke’s sister. She comes in a few times a week to help out.” He rests both of his forearms on the bar and leans closer to me.

  I tap a finger to my forehead. “I’ll make a note of that right here.”

  A smile floats over his mouth. “Are you drunk?”

  A giggle bubbles out of me, which prompts a laugh from him.

  His gaze narrows. “Did you eat anything tonight?”

  I wiggle two fingers in the air. “I had two chocolate chip cookies before I came here. I keep the package in my desk drawer.”

  My hand jumps to cover my mouth. What the actual fuck is wrong with me? Why would I confess that?

  His full lips curve up into a sly grin. “You used to hide the package in the bottom drawer of your nightstand.”

  “You knew about that?”

  “The crumbs in the bed and the chocolate at the corner of your mouth were dead giveaways.” He reaches up to swipe the pad of his thumb over my bottom lip. “I loved that you thought you could keep a secret from me. You never could, Katie.”

  I could. I did.

  “Do you still like your pizza with extra pepperoni?” He glances at the door of the bar as a group of people crowd in. “The place across the street makes a good slice. I’ll run and get you a couple.”

  I shake my head. “I have leftover pizza at home. I’ll go have that.”

  A sudden wave of dizziness hits me as I slide off the barstool. I reach forward to steady myself, but it’s his hand I catch, not the edge of the bar.

  “Sit,” he says, squeezing my hand. “I’ll get Callie to tend bar. I’m taking you home.”

  I drop his hand and lower myself back onto the stool.

  There’s no harm in him taking me home if I don’t invite him up to my apartment.

  I tell myself that as he flashes me a killer smile. I look away, vowing that I’ll never kiss him again even though I know it’s a lie.

  Chapter 29

  Gage

  I wouldn’t have pegged Katie for an Upper West Side resident.

  Back in California we lived in a neighborhood teeming with activity. The street she lives on now is quiet with large trees and buildings with doormen.

  As soon as we left Tin Anchor, she started in about how she was fine on her own. She had too much to drink and too little to eat tonight.

  I couldn’t leave her be, not just because it would have been an asshole move, but I wanted to see where she lived.

  I’ve been imagining her in a walk-up in Tribeca, not here.

  “I’m just down the block.” She waves her right hand in the air in front of her. “I can make it from here on my own.”

  I have every confidence in that. I’m also damn sure that she wants to kiss me again.

  Her eyes were glued to my mouth on the subway. I was on the phone with Myles talking about his upcoming bachelor party.

  I ignored my ringing phone twice before Katie insisted that I answer it.

  When we stepped off the train, I was next to her.

  The ache to reach out and grab her hand was real, but I shoved both of mine into the front pockets of my jeans to avoid the temptation.

  Years back, our hands would instinctively find each other whenever we were side-by-side.

  “I’ll walk you to the door,” I offer with a smile.

  She mumbles something under her breath as she glances up at me.

  I’ve been doing most of the talking since we stepped off the subway.

  I started with a comment about the busker playing a guitar and crooning a Frank Sinatra tune.

  She headed straight for him when she heard him singing. His version of the classic earned him a five-dollar tip from her and a smile.

  The fact that he thanked her with a misplaced bow and a cheery accented, “Thank you, Lady Kate,” told me that she stopped to listen to him before today.

  Once we hit the sidewalk to walk the two blocks to her place, I brought up the weather and the never-ending construction in the city.

  She didn’t add anything to the conversation other than an occasional shrug of her shoulder and a raise of her brow.

  She’s nervous-as-hell. It’s written all over her face.

  She comes to such an abrupt stop that I take a few steps past her before I realize what’s happening.

  Her thumb jerks to the right and the front of a white-bricked building. “This is it.”

  I look at the exterior. It’s a pre-war building with arched windows, glass panel double doors and a doorman watching our every move.

  “Thank you for the drinks,” she says in an even tone. “I’d thank you for bringing me home, but I could have made it on my own.”

  Defiant Katie is hot-as-hell.

  Her mascara smudged when she rubbed her fists over her eyes. Her lipstick is long gone and the front of her wrap dress is open a touch more than it was when she first sat down at Tin Anchor.

  Every single time she moves just the right way, I catch a glimpse of her pink lace bra.

  “You don’t want to come up.” She shakes her head. “No, wait.”

  “I want to come up,” I blurt out before she can get another word in.

  “I meant to say that I don’t want you to come up.”

  I smile as I take a step closer to her. “You want me to come up.”

  “I’m going to eat pizza,” she announces with a tilt of her head. “We’re not going to do anything.”

  I motion to the glass doors. “I’ll watch you eat pizza.”

  “I know this is a bad idea,” she whispers as she taps the middle of her forehead. “Think about this, Katie.”

  I haven’t heard her self-talk in over five years. It’s the only time she refers to herself as Katie. From what I remember, I’m the only person who called her that.

  That might have changed. I’m hoping it hasn’t.

  “I’ll make you some coffee.” I point at a finger at her. “You’ll eat pizza. I’ll go home.”

  “Coffee, pizza, home,” she repeats back, studying my face.

  I nod.

  Her gaze darts from me to the doors. “I saw your apartment, so I guess it’s only fair that you see mine.”

  I fucked this up years ago so I don’t think fair fits into this equation, but I’ll take it.

  “Follow me,” she announces as she steps toward the door. “It’s coffee, pizza and then home. You promised.”

  I know what I said. I’ll take my leave after coffee and pizza, but I plan on stealing another kiss before the night is over.

  Chapter 30

  Gage

  I step into her apartment, and I’m instantly blown away by how it reflects Katie’s taste.

  The walls are painted white. It’s a blank canvas for everything else in the space.

  A large white sectional sits in the middle of the living room. It’s crowded with pink and light blue pillows. A dark blue blanket is folded neatly over one arm.

  The coffee table is square and painted gray.

  A small dining table sits in the corner, covered by a bright blue tablecloth.

  I scan the walls to find pictures of Katie’s family. I spot her parents in one. They’re standing in Times Square, smiling at the camera. I have no doubt that Katie was behind the lens.

  Eldred is in another picture with his wife. At one time, I considered Katie’s brother my friend but that bond was broken when I left his sister.

  I spot a square silver frame containing a photograph of a baby.

  “That’s Arleth.” Katie drops her keys and purse on the coffee table. “She’s my friend’s baby.”

  “Olivia’s baby,” I say quietly.

  “Olivia and Alexander’s baby,” she corr
ects me. “Before you ask, that’s my friend Tilly and her husband. He’s a policeman.”

  I gaze at the frame next to the photo of Arleth. It’s an image of a tall dark-haired man and a pretty brunette woman. The background is this room and the window that overlooks the tree-lined street below.

  Katie has built a life here. She’s put down roots and started a business.

  “I can make coffee,” she says, starting toward a small kitchen. “No cream or sugar for you, right?”

  A wave of nostalgia hits me.

  “You remember?”

  The emotion in my voice turns her back around to look at me. “I remember, but you had it like that at Palla on Fifth.”

  I move to take a seat on the sofa. I had no idea how fucking surreal it would be to see her apartment.

  I stare down at the red tulips in a vase on the table.

  Katie loved fresh flowers when we were together. I’d buy them once a month and she’d care for them as if they were the most important things in the world. She’d keep them until the petals were dropping and the water was murky.

  The sound of movement in the kitchen stops. Quick taps of her heels against the hardwood floor follows.

  “Here’s some pizza.” She shoves a plate at me. “It’s too much for just me.”

  I look down at the two slices of pepperoni pizza. It’s a small offering, but I take it with a shaky hand. “Thank you, Katie.”

  She settles onto the sofa next to me, balancing a plate with one slice on her thighs. “The coffee is brewing. One cup and you’ll go home, right?”

  I want to stay. I want to fucking stay and put my head in her lap while she reads poetry to me and then I want to make love to her.

  “One cup and I’ll take off,” I answer with a smile.

  “Eat.” She points at the plate in my hand. “I heated yours in the microwave. I know how much you hate cold pizza.”

  I hate that this moment has to end.

  I take a bite of the lukewarm pizza. I chew, not giving a shit that it tastes horrible.

  I’m inside the apartment of the woman I love, sharing a meal with her.

  This is more than I could have dreamed of.

  This is everything.

  It’s the best night of my life in more than five years.

  ***

  “I had too much to drink.” Katie presses her index fingers into her temples. “I’m going to have a massive headache tomorrow morning.”

  She’s sobering up, slowly.

  She had one cup of coffee and half of another. I got her the refill adding a splash of cream to it.

  The cool rush of evening air flooding the room through the open window is helping clear her head.

  I know I should say goodnight, but I’m not ready to leave.

  There are a million things I want to say to her, but now is not the time.

  “Why don’t you live in London?”

  “London?” The surprise in my tone is evident. The question feels like it blindly came at me from left field.

  “Your daughter lives in London.” She crosses her legs. “Why don’t you live there?”

  I’m not welcome there. I was arrested during my only trip to London. I attempted to see my daughter. The police were called. Dylan’s associate there secured my release with the caveat that I would board a plane back to the United States.

  “It’s a complicated situation,” I say with a shake of my head. “I’ve hired an attorney here. He’s working with a lawyer there. I’m hoping they can get me more time with Kristin.”

  It’s not a direct answer, but it’s enough to appease her for now.

  Her head bobs up and down. “You miss her, don’t you?”

  “Every moment of every day.”

  “I hope you get to see her soon,” she offers on a sigh.

  “Me too.”

  Sipping from the coffee cup, she watches me intently.

  Once the mug is back on the table, her fingers drift to her bottom lip. “I did come to Tin Anchor tonight to talk about that kiss.”

  “Do you regret kissing me?” I ask even though I know she’s likely going to lie and say she does.

  I wouldn’t be sitting on her sofa, drinking coffee if that were true.

  She takes a deep breath. “What do you think?”

  She’s opening a door that I’ve been waiting for. I lean closer, inching my hand across my thigh until it brushes against her leg. “I think you liked the kiss more than you want to admit.”

  Her gaze drops to my hand. “Why would you think that?”

  I thicken under the fabric of my jeans. Being this close to her is bordering on unbearable. The kiss only stoked the longing that’s been inside of me since I walked out of her life five years ago.

  I squeeze her thigh. “You kissed me like you wanted me.”

  She turns to look at me, her hazel eyes filled with the same need I feel. “I used to want you.”

  My hand inches higher. “You want me now.”

  “I don’t think I do,” she says under her breath. “I think the martinis are clouding my judgment. I’m confused.”

  I run a fingertip against the soft skin of her inner thigh. “You’re not confused.”

  She leans closer, her sweet breath skirting over my cheek. “You think you still know me.”

  “I know your body,” I bite out between clenched teeth.

  I’m so fucking hard. I want more. Jesus, I want to open her dress, pull down her panties and taste her sweet pussy.

  I have craved that taste every day for the last five years.

  “I’m not the same woman I was back then.” Her gaze drops to my hand again, but she makes no move to stop me. “You don’t know my body the way you used to.”

  My fingers slide up until I can feel the lace of her panties brush against them. “Is that a challenge?”

  The softest moan escapes her, just as her eyelids flutter shut.

  I move in, gliding my lips along her jawline. “I’m going to kiss you again, Katie.”

  With a nod, her lips part, her legs fall open, and my mouth is on hers.

  Chapter 31

  Kate

  I get lost in the kiss.

  I’m buried so deeply beneath my desire for Gage that I ignore the incessant knocking I hear.

  His fingers crawl higher, lingering against the front of my panties.

  I want him to touch me.

  I desperately want him to feel how wet I am.

  He groans when the knocking starts up again, but this time it’s even louder than before.

  It’s coming from my apartment door.

  Someone is on the other side.

  I curse inwardly when I pull back from him.

  “Are you expecting someone?” he whispers against the flesh of my neck. “If we ignore them maybe they’ll go away.”

  A series of three loud raps on the door draws me to my feet.

  I straighten the front of my dress. It’s twisted from my squirming and his hands on the skirt.

  Maybe the knocking is a sign that I’m not supposed to be kissing him, let alone touching him.

  He was just inches away from diving his fingers into my panties.

  “I’m coming,” I call out to whoever is behind the door.

  “How I wish that were true,” Gage murmurs as he slides to his feet.

  I cover my mouth with my hand to hide my smile.

  The knocking starts again, but this time a voice follows it. “Kate? Wally let me up. He said you’re home.”

  Tilly.

  “Wally is the doorman,” I offer that explanation to Gage even though he didn’t ask. “It’s my friend. Tilly is here.”

  Gage’s gaze drifts to the picture of Tilly and Sebastian hanging on the wall.

  “I need to let her in.” My hands run over my hair, smoothing it.

  He nods in response, adjusting the front of his jeans. I saw how hard he was right before he kissed me.

  If Tilly wasn’t paying me a surprise vi
sit right now, I might be laid bare on the couch enjoying Gage’s talented tongue.

  A shiver runs through me at the thought of coming against his mouth.

  I could never get enough of that when we were together. I could never get enough of him.

  “Kate?” Tilly calls again. “It’s important. Please.”

  I move quickly, closing the distance between the sofa and the door in just a few steps.

  I glance back to Gage before I swing open the door.

  Tilly’s gaze darts from me to Gage. “Oh, shit.”

  “Are you all right?” I grab her hand and tug her into my apartment. “What’s wrong?”

  She raises her hand in a weak wave to Gage. “I’m Kate’s best friend. My friends call me Tilly, but my husband calls me Matilda. You can call me either, but Kate always calls me Tilly, so maybe you want to…”

  “Tilly,” I stop her rambling with a squeeze of her hand. “What are you doing here?”

  “I have a pint of gelato.” She taps her hand over the front of her large red purse. “Sebastian has a meeting so I thought we could eat gelato and watch a show, but you’re busy.”

  I stare at her.

  She studies my face carefully, her eyes narrowing. “I interrupted something, didn’t I?”

  “No.” I wave the notion away with a brush of my hand in the air. “Gage brought me home. We had some pizza.”

  “You kissed him.” She mouths in silence.

  I nod. “He was just leaving.”

  “Oh my God,” she whispers. “You kissed him again.”

  I hear Gage’s footsteps as he approaches us from behind. His hand darts past me, brushing my shoulder. “It’s good to meet you, Tilly.”

  “It’s my pleasure, Gage.” She scoops his hand in hers.

  “I’ll leave you two alone.”

  Tilly jerks his hand closer to her. “You’re not going anywhere. I brought enough gelato for all of us. I’ll get the bowls and the spoons. You two have a seat. Right over there on the sofa; right next to each other.”

  ***

  “Do you have condoms?” Tilly whispers to me as we load the bowls and spoons in the dishwasher.