"Nothing went down with Eddie," Blue said automatically.
"Yeah? Then why are you two sending photographs to each other instead of talking like normal human beings?"
"Because we're not normal?"
"Did he hurt you?"
Blue wasn't expecting to have the tables turned on her, and she answered before she could edit herself. "Not intentionally."
Lena's expression was grave. "Sometimes intentions don't matter. You should tell him, give him a chance to make amends."
"No." There was nothing to be gained from that particular discussion.
"Why not?"
"Because it's not something I want to talk about. With anyone."
Lena pursed her lips, and for a moment Blue thought she would argue the point.
"Okay. If that's the way you want it."
"It is."
"But I'm going to give you the same advice you gave me. If you can't go around it, go under it. If you can't go under it … "
Blue stared at her. "That advice doesn't work for this situation."
"Why not?"
Because my love is immutable, and so is Eddie's nature.
"Because some things you just have to endure."
Lena frowned. "That sounds awful."
Blue forced a smile. "It's not really. Most of the time it's fine." She grabbed her crutches. "I'm making nachos. You want some?"
"You're eating again? Lunch wasn't even an hour ago."
"I have a fast metabolism. Deal with it." Blue headed for the kitchen.
"Extra sour cream on mine," Lena called after her.
"That's my girl."
Blue came to a halt once she'd gained the privacy of the kitchen, blinking like crazy. It took her a full minute to suppress the urge to cry.
When she'd succeeded, she turned on the oven.
There were nachos to make, after all.
Chapter Seven
Eddie flipped down the visor in his car and checked his hair. It looked the same as it had when he'd left his place ten minutes ago, and he flipped the visor up again and admitted he was stalling.
He glanced out the window. He could see lights and movement inside Raf and Maggie's apartment, which meant the party had well and truly started. No surprises there - he was a full hour late. Everyone else would be there, eating and drinking and catching up with the guest of honor.
No doubt Blue would be lapping up the attention, enjoying her moment in the spotlight as only she could. Meanwhile, he was sitting in his car, trying to pretend he wasn't nervous about seeing his best friend for the first time in four weeks.
He'd almost gone nuts with missing her. He hadn't realized how many corners of his life she filled until she wasn't there to fill them anymore. Work felt wrong without her mouthy presence. When he wasn't working, he sat around brooding over why she'd left and what an ass he'd been to take her for granted the way he had.
You realize you are the poster child for pussies right now, yeah?
He did. He totally did, but that didn't change the fact that he had no clue what would happen when he and Blue were in the same room again. Which pretty much killed him.
He wanted things to be okay between them - and he really, really wanted the chance to prove to her through his actions that she mattered, that she could rely on him. That she was a priority in his life, not just a convenience. If she was hurting, if she was troubled, he wanted to be her first resort, not her last.
He climbed out of the Ferrari and didn't bother hitting the bell when he reached the apartment entrance, punching in the code to unlock the door instead. Music hit him the moment he entered, along with the sound of conversation and laughter. He walked through the foyer, pausing on the threshold of the living space to get his bearings. The living areas of the apartment occupied an entire level of the warehouse conversion, the space being pretty equally divided into dining, TV and kitchen zones. A bunch of guys from the studio had commandeered the TV zone, duking it out onscreen in a game of Grand Theft Auto. More people clustered near the dining table and along the kitchen island counter. His gaze found Blue immediately, zeroing in on the electric blue of her hair.
She was holding court, sitting on the island counter, a bottle of beer in hand. She'd had her hair cut, the sides shaved to almost nothing, the top molded into a smooth, high curve reminiscent of rockabilly singers from the fifties. Her head was tilted back, and she was laughing at something someone was saying, her face bright with amusement.
Something made her look his way, and the laughter faded from her face as her gaze locked with his, only to be replaced by a slow, warm smile. She cocked a finger, encouraging him to join her, and he didn't wait for a second invitation. He stopped only when he was in front of her, looking up slightly thanks to the height she'd gained from her position on the counter.
They'd talked four times since she'd walked out of his house, and texted dozens of photographs back and forth - and yet, suddenly he had no idea what to say or do.
She solved his dilemma by speaking first.
"Hey."
"Hey yourself." He could hear the influence of his accent in his voice, always a giveaway he was combatting strong emotion.
She cocked her head, her eyes warm with understanding. "Come here."
She gestured him closer, and he stepped into her embrace. It was the first time he could remember hugging her with her face at the same level as his own - she was so much shorter than him, usually she wound up with her face pressed into his chest. Now, her cheek rested against his own, smooth and warm, as her arms tightened around him.
"I missed you." She said it quietly, so only he could hear.
"Yes," he said, because he couldn't get anything else out past the thickness in his throat. He tightened his grip on her, telling her with his body what he couldn't say with words.
She pulled back from their embrace, but he didn't step out from between her legs, one of which was missing a pretty vital accessory.
"Where's your cast gone?"
"They took it off - and they took away one of my crutches. Apparently weight-bearing encourages the bone to knit back together."
He looked at her leg, clad in dark denim, protected only by a flimsy-looking brace. "What stops it from snapping in two again while it's doing that?"
She grinned. "I have no freaking idea."
He couldn't not smile, not when she lit up like that.
"You look good," he said.
"I feel good. Ribs are better, headaches have gone. And soon this little baby -" she patted her injured leg "- will be in top form and I can have my life back."
He looked into her eyes, and all he saw was Blue. No shadows, no reservations. The tension in his neck and shoulders relaxed a notch.
"Raf tells me you're back at work on Monday." He'd very carefully not asked her when she was returning to Melbourne or work in any of their brief conversations. She'd set the boundaries. He was doing his best to respect them.
"Yep. Tell me - how foul is the microwave in the staff room? I know none of you have cleaned it while I've been gone."
"Pretty bad."
"You people are disgusting. You'd all die from botulism or something even worse if I wasn't around to keep you in line. How hard is it to put a bit of cling film over the dish when you're reheating?"
"You could put a sign in the kitchen."
The only thing Blue hated more than cooked-on grunge in the microwave was messages exhorting people to do this or do that.
"When hell freezes over." She took a pull from her beer, her gaze roaming his face. "You need a haircut. This Jesus look you're going for at the moment isn't working for you."
He ran a hand over his hair. "I wasn't going for a Jesus look. I just haven't got around to getting my hair cut."
"I'll talk to Cal, hook you up."
"Five minutes, and you're already organizing me?"
"Someone has to. So, tell me, what else has been happening? Who's your latest deluded concubine?" She glanced around as though expecting to find someone trailing him.
"I'm concubine-free at the moment."
She raised an eyebrow. "What, this week?"
"Since Denise."
She nearly choked on the mouthful of beer she was swallowing. "You're kidding me. Eduardo Oliveira, don't tell me you're been celibate for five whole weeks?"
He relieved her of her beer and took a drink. "It's all coming back to me now - you're a pain in the ass."
"We should contact the Guinness Book of Records. Have you seen a doctor? Are parts of you starting to atrophy?"
"You finished yet?"
She grabbed the bottle. "Barely getting started." She picked up a spoon from the countertop and tapped it against the glass, raising her voice to get the room's attention. "Listen up, people. We've got an emergency on our hands."
Everyone obediently quietened and turned their way. Eddie rolled his eyes as he waited for whatever outrageousness she was about to perpetrate.