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Anticipation(10)

By:Sarah Mayberry

"What's wrong? You don't like the view from your room?" he asked before  he could stop himself. Even he could hear the hurt in his voice.

Screw it, he was hurt. He wanted to look after her.

"We'll drive each other nuts," Blue said. "I'm saving us from the fight of the century. You should be thanking me."

He shook his head, really perplexed now. They'd had a great time yesterday and last night. Right up until Leanne's arrival.

"Is this because of Leanne?" he asked.

Blue shrugged. "In a way. You've got your life, I've got mine. I don't want to get in the way of anything."

"You're the one who bailed last night. I would have been more than happy for you to hang around."

Blue turned to the driver. "My bags are just through there." She gestured with her chin.

"I'll get them," Eddie said.

There wasn't much point arguing with her when she'd already organized  her escape plan. He found her bags on her bed, along with a folded piece  of paper with his name written on it. He flipped it open and read it  quickly:

Thanks for your awesome hospitality, but Lena's offering beach views  with my rehab, so I'm going to head down to her folks' beach place and  hang with her for a while. Might as well enjoy being messed up, right?

Dinner was great last night. Pity you won't take me up on that offer to be my personal chef.

Blue

He slid the note into the front pocket of his jeans and hefted her  overnight bag and backpack. He glanced around. She'd left the room as  she'd found it, tidy and neat, the blanket folded across the foot of the  bed.         

     



 

As though she'd never been there.

She was standing beside the taxi when he exited the house with her bags.  He didn't take his eyes off her as he walked down the path and through  the gate, but for the first time in a long time she couldn't hold his  gaze.

He dropped her bags into the open trunk, shutting the lid with more force than was strictly necessary.

"Thanks," she said, still not looking him in the eye.

He waited until she was settled in the rear seat of the cab before  bracing his hands on the roof and leaning in so he could talk to her  with a semblance of privacy.

"You want to tell me what's really going on?" he asked. Because he  wasn't buying the I-want-beach-views bullshit. Not for a second.

She licked her lips nervously, something he'd never seen her do before. Then she looked at him.

"It's nothing for you to worry your pretty head about. That's all you  need to know." There were shadows behind her eyes, and a muscle  flickered in her jaw as though she was working hard to control herself.

This was serious, he realized. Something heavy was dragging her down - and she was running away from him.

"This is crazy, Blue. Come inside and talk to me. Tell me what's going on."

"I don't want to talk about it, okay? Just let it go."

Everything in him wanted to keep at her, but there was something  incredibly final about the tone of her voice and the angle of her chin.

She wanted to leave, and nothing he said or did was going to stop her.

"Okay. Enjoy yourself. Get well." He had no idea if his words sounded  sincere. In his heart, he meant them, but he was also angry with her  right now. He felt … discarded. Disrespected. Devalued.

He stepped back and pushed the door closed. The driver was already  behind the wheel, face forward as he pretended he wasn't eavesdropping  on their every word. Eddie signaled he should go as Blue wound down her  window.

"I left you a note."

"I saw it."

Her gaze was sad but determined. "I'm sorry, but it would never have worked out, us living in each other's pockets."

Eddie watched as the taxi drove her away, then turned toward the house.  Her words echoed in his ears as he pushed through the gate.

It's nothing for you to worry your pretty head about. That's all you need to know.

Right, like he could turn off his feelings for her, erase his concern  because she'd told him to. Didn't she realize how much she meant to him?  How much he cared? He'd put his whole world on hold for her this past  week. He'd bent over backward to make sure she was comfortable and safe  and well looked after. He'd even made freaking brigadeiros for her last  night.

That's right - then you let Leanne eat them instead of Blue.

He came to a screeching halt on his porch as the realization hit him,  closely followed by another humdinger: he and Blue had been arguing  about the issue of him putting his women above their friendship the  night of the accident, too.

And yet he'd done it again, almost the very first chance he'd got.

To answer to your question: no, she probably has no idea how much she  means to you, since you put your cock first pretty much every time.

He bowed his head, shame sending heat rushing into his face as he acknowledged his own shitty behavior.

Why on earth would she think she could rely on him when he'd taught her  over and over that he was unreliable, especially if there was a hot  chick in the room? Was it any wonder she'd chosen to turn to Lena in her  hour of need instead of him?

He had a sudden urge to punch something, like some clichéd moron in a B-movie.

He should have sent Leanne away when she'd shown up last night. He had  no idea why he hadn't. Habit, maybe. Reluctance to deal with her hurt  feelings, perhaps. He certainly hadn't been interested in what she was  offering - far from it. And yet he'd still let her stay while Blue  retreated to her room like a second-class citizen.

God, he was such a douche bag.

Hard on the heels of the thought came a surge of determination. His head came up.

He might have fucked up last night - okay, and plenty of other times  previously - but he could fix this. From now on, things were going to be  different with Blue. He was going to show her how much her friendship  meant to him. He was going to make sure she understood the special place  she held in his heart. Never again would she have reason to doubt her  importance in his life.

The urge to go after her and fix this now was almost undeniable, but he  had enough self-knowledge to understand that impulse was about making  himself feel better, not about helping Blue. The last thing she needed  was him getting up in her face, insisting she let him help her, when she  was dealing with stuff of her own.         

     



 

No, he would have to wait until she was prepared to let him in again -  and when she did, he would have his chance to be the friend she  deserved.

In the meantime, his punishment would be to wait in ignorant silence and think about what a thoughtless dick he'd been.





Blue stared out the window of the taxi, her teeth gritted so hard her jaw ached.

She was screwing everything up. Making it complicated where before it  had been simple and easy and good. Worse, she'd hurt Eddie's feelings.  He hadn't said anything, but it had been there in the line of his  shoulders and the angle of his head and the set of his mouth.

Some people - idiots - wrote him off as a too-good-looking playboy who  was about as deep as a wading pool. They imagined that the surface Eddie  - the player, the partier, the hedonist - was all there was. She knew  differently. She knew how loyal he was. How hard working. She knew how  much he cared for his family. He would take a bullet for Rafel, no  questions asked. And she knew how deeply the loss of his sister had hit  him when he was a kid. He'd been just seven years old when Yara had died  from meningitis and his grief-stricken father had wrenched them from  their home in Brazil and immigrated to Australia. Eddie's back bore the  proof of his abiding grief and love for his lost sibling - the word  soror, Latin for sister, etched in five-inch, black letters across his  shoulders. The same tattoo that Rafel had on his belly.

Lest they forget.

If only Leanne hadn't lobbed up on his doorstep last night - better yet,  if only Eddie hadn't invited her inside to burst the little bubble of  comfortable delusion Blue had been enjoying. She and Eddie could have  played Duty and eaten brigadeiros and she could have fooled herself for a  bit longer that everything was back to normal between them.

"You want to take the motorway?" the driver asked.

Blue dragged her gaze from the blur of suburbia outside the car. "Whatever is easiest."

Pulling her phone from her pocket, she tapped out a text.

I'm sorry. I just need some space. Forgive me?

She hit Send and then read over her message, worrying she'd said both  too much and not enough. His response came with gratifying speed:

Always.

She closed her eyes. Only Eddie could infuriate and touch her in equal  measures without even trying. His loyalty and his love were a gift and a  treasure, and she needed to make sure she didn't screw things up.

Thank God Lena had arrived in Australia two days ago, otherwise Blue  wouldn't have this out. If she'd been forced to stay in Eddie's house,  feeling the way she was feeling …

She didn't want to think about how impossible that would have been.

When the taxi pulled into the driveway of Lena's parents' house, Lena  came out, dressed in a pair of pajama pants and a tight tank that  showcased her bodacious breasts and the colorful ink Blue, Raf, and  Eddie had etched into her skin over the years. Lena's long dark hair was  a tangled mess around her shoulders, and she lifted one hand to protect  her eyes from the early morning sun as she watched the driver get out  and open Blue's door.