"Bullshit you're walking home. Give me a second to finish getting dressed and I'll drive you."
"It's only twenty minutes, and I want to walk."
"Blue -"
"I've walked home from your place plenty of times, Eddie." Her voice rang with determination. She'd made up her mind.
"Okay. Fine. Suit yourself," he said tightly, waving her toward the door. What else could he do? Tackle her and insist on taking her home?
"I'll see you Monday, okay?" she said.
"Sure."
Blue threw him one last worried look before slipping into the hallway. The second he heard the heavy clunk of the front door closing, the urge to go after her tensed his leg muscles, but common sense stopped him from taking the first step.
Blue knew him better than anyone. She knew his past, she knew his strengths and weaknesses, his dreams, his values - and she'd decided that it wasn't worth risking their friendship to try for more of the magic they'd found together last night.
She wasn't interested. She didn't want to be with him. It was that simple.
Blown away and gutted, he sank onto the end of the bed and tried to work out what had just happened.
Blue made it all the way around the corner before she had to stop. Her chest was so tight, she couldn't get enough air, and she stood in the early morning light in front of a stranger's house with one hand pressed to her chest, head bowed as she concentrated on her breathing.
In, out. In, out.
Don't think about Eddie's face.
In, out.
Don't think about what he said.
In, out.
And whatever you do, don't think about last night.
After a few minutes, her chest opened up a little. Enough to get her walking again, anyway. The last thing she needed was for Eddie to drive past and spot her lurking here like the freaking Phantom of the Opera. All the effort she'd put into the best morning-after performance ever would be completely wasted if he found her here, shaky and weak-kneed and more than a little dizzy with anxiety.
You did the right thing, she told herself as she put one foot doggedly in front of the other. You absolutely did the right thing.
It was a pity this was one of those situations where doing the right thing felt completely and utterly wrong.
Last night had been so good. So good. Being that close to Eddie, falling asleep in his arms … It had been the most intense, beautiful few hours of her life. No contest.
But this morning … She would never forget the lurch of pure panic she'd felt when she'd realized where she was, what they'd done.
She almost broke into a run when she saw the sign for her street in the distance. The thought of a shower and a cup of coffee and some privacy to simply freak out without witnesses made her want to sob with gratitude. Then she was climbing the stairs to her apartment and unlocking the door and standing in the quiet of her own place.
Safe.
Safe from the temptation of Eddie's beautiful body and their undeniable sexual chemistry, and safe from the things Eddie had said.
The invitation he'd extended.
Desperate for a shower, she peeled off her clothes and made her way to the bathroom. She made the water as hot as she could tolerate and stood beneath the spray for a long time, washing it all away - the anxiety, the desire, the guilt, the fear.
Finally she turned off the water and reached for a towel. Now she was home she felt tired, her body incredibly heavy. She glanced at the clock. Maggie was due at one o'clock to pick her up for the art exhibition opening they were attending, which meant she could grab another couple of hours' sleep if she wanted to.
She didn't hesitate, lifting the covers and crawling between the sheets. Her hair was still damp and the pillow would get wet, but she didn't care. She just wanted a few minutes' peace. A few minutes of sanctuary.
Her busy brain wouldn't let up, however, going over and over what they'd said to each other this morning, replaying the baffled, hurt look on Eddie's face when he'd understood she was bailing on him.
Walking away from him had been one of the hardest things she'd ever done - but she'd done it for them. She'd done it because their friendship had survived ten years, and she wanted - needed - it to survive another ten.
Squeezing her eyes tightly shut, she reminded herself of all the women she hadn't cited this morning - Cristina, Polly, Aisha. God, and Jessie. How could Blue forget Jessie? Eddie had stayed with her for six months, and the poor woman had been devastated when he'd finally pulled the pin.
Eddie was hopeless with relationships. Blue knew this the way she knew that gravity worked - it was a fact of life. As tempting as it was to allow herself to be seduced into doing things his way, she knew how it would end - the way it always ended: badly, with someone getting hurt.
She didn't want to hate Eddie, and she was pretty sure that was what would happen if she kept sleeping with him. At first, of course, it would be amazing. Being able to touch him, feeling so close to him would be a dream come true. It wouldn't take long before she'd want more than that, though. She always wanted more of Eddie and at some point he would start to get twitchy. She'd say or do something that made him feel crowded or trapped. She'd step over some invisible boundary only Eddie knew about. Then he'd start distancing himself from her, and she'd have to make a decision between hanging in there, hoping she was imagining things, or swallowing her medicine and ending things before it got really ugly.
Either way, she would be crushed. She didn't doubt it for a second. And their friendship would be done, and she'd lose him.
She couldn't lose Eddie. She refused to.
He hadn't been happy with the way she'd ended things this morning, but she was confident they could get past that. In a few days' or weeks' time, he'd lock gazes with a woman in a café or a club or a bar, and sparks would fly and Eddie would have someone else to work his wiles on. He'd get over the way he was feeling now, and he and Blue would go back to the way they'd always been.
She was almost certain it would work that way.
And in the meantime, she simply had to stick to her guns and remind herself what was at stake: everything.
Eddie was so furious and frustrated after Blue left he didn't know where to put himself. He started making breakfast but quickly realized he couldn't stomach food, so he jumped into the shower instead. The small space only reminded him of last night - Blue's legs around his hips, her gaze locked with his as he worked himself inside her.
He could feel himself growing hard, and he flicked the tap to cold. No way was he standing around with a Blue-induced hard-on when she'd bailed on him. It was too freaking pathetic.
He tolerated fifteen seconds of icy cold water before turning the shower off altogether. The first thing he smelled when he returned to the bedroom was Blue's perfume. He eyed the tumbled sheets, tempted to strip the bed. If he did that, though, her scent would be gone, and he wasn't sure he was ready for that yet.
The thought made him angry all over again and suddenly the urge to do something was overpowering. He pulled on jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt, then grabbed his leather bike jacket and shoved his feet into his toughest boots.
Nine months ago, he and Raf had gone halves in a Ducati 1299 Panigale Superbike. It had been an expensive indulgence, and the bike lived part-time at Eddie's place and part-time at Raf and Maggie's. As luck would have it, Raf had the Ducati at present, so Eddie headed over to his brother's place to pick it up.
The notion that Raf might plan on using the bike today only occurred to Eddie as he was parking in front of his brother's apartment and he ground his teeth at the prospect of having his escape hatch nailed down.
Fortunately for him, Raf answered the door in his workout gear, and Eddie guessed he'd been using his home gym.
"Hey. Just here to grab the Duc," Eddie said.
"Sure thing," Raf said easily, standing back to let Eddie in.
Eddie followed his brother across the foyer to the door that led to the garage.
"Where's Maggie?"
"Working. Then she's off to some art thing with Blue this afternoon."
"Right," Eddie said tightly.
They descended a short flight of concrete steps to ground level, where Raf reached out to flick on a bright overhead light. His brother's black Bentley hulked on one side of the garage and the Ducati was parked between it and the rear wall, its red paintwork gleaming dully in the light.
"Where you planning on going?" Raf asked.
"No idea," Eddie said, shrugging into his jacket and zipping it closed.
Raf shot him a look, clearly picking up on Eddie's brusque tone.
"You okay?" Raf asked.
"Sure."
Raf cocked an eyebrow, patently unconvinced. Eddie stared at his brother, so many words crowding his throat he didn't know where to start.
"Am I that shit with women?" he asked abruptly. "I know I don't have a perfect record or anything, but it's not like I'm a complete freaking loser. Right?"