Bev laughed, and when Chris grinned at her, she decided to just get to it. “You’ve been ducking me. We need to talk it out.”
He shook his head. “Sometimes, it’s better to just let the past die and move on. Not everything can be talked out.”
“But I don’t know why you’ve been mad. I can’t move on from something I don’t understand.”
Before he answered, he took another big bite of pie. Most of his slice was gone, in only three bites. “C’mon, Bevvie. You know exactly why I’m mad. Or you would if you’d open your eyes.”
She hated when he called her Bevvie. He only did it when he was being condescending. Normally, she would stay calm and try to see the love in his words. It made life easier to believe people meant well. To believe otherwise was to live in siege, always expecting to be hurt. She’d been like that once. Her mother was certainly like that. It was miserable.
But right now, today, with her body sore from working a full shift on her feet with bruised ribs, her head a swirl from all the ways acting on her attraction to Nick was now messing with her life, and maybe the lives of her friends, Bev felt defensive and impatient. “Don’t be an evasive jerk, Chris. Just say it.”
He set his now-empty plate aside. “Okay. You have shitty taste in men, and you refuse to see that. Over and over, you end up with the bad boy, just fucking determined to find their heart of gold. How many guys have you dated since we’ve been friends?”
Bev glared at him, not bothering to do the math. A few.
When she didn’t answer, he did. “Five. Counting the guy you were getting over when we met, six. I’ve been there every time to get you back on your feet. Every-fucking-one of them treated you like shit, and you took it, trying to see the good, trying to make that little sliver of good the main thing about them. And every-fucking-one of them hurt you. They dumped you, or they cheated on you practically in your face until you finally wised up and left—and shit, then there’s Greg.”
“Don’t, Chris. I get it.” She set her half-eaten pie away, no longer hungry at all.
“No, you don’t. You wanted me to just say it, so here it is: Greg. He was such a bad boy he beat you up. And even that wasn’t enough for you to get it. He had to do it again before you’d leave him. And then he stalked you. You dumped out your whole life to get away from him. And now, the next guy you exhibit any interest in is a fucking mobster—who got you blown up before he even banged you. And still you want to be with him. Bevvie, I love you. I really love you. But on this point, you are a stupid twat.”
Shocked at his words, she jumped off the stool and tried to storm past him. She was going to cry, and she didn’t want him to see how much he’d hurt her. The betrayal she felt was thick and acrid around her.
He grabbed her arm as she tried to pass. “Bev. There are good guys. Guys with their heart of gold right out on their sleeve. Guys who’ll treat you like the treasure you are. They’re all around you. They’re right in front of you. You just need to open your eyes.”
“Let go of me.” She managed to keep her voice steady all the way until the last word. He let her go, and she fled the shop, not even stopping to tell Donnie it was time to go. But he was up and following her right away.
~oOo~
As soon as the elevator opened, Bev pushed through, going ahead of Donnie, even though she knew he wanted to be out front. She just wanted to get to her apartment and be alone, where she could cry in peace and solitude.
The new big guy who had taken Jimmy’s place guarding Nick was standing in the middle of the hallway with his back to her, blocking her passage. Pulling up a little and preparing to ask him to excuse her, she realized that Nick’s door was open. And then, as she stepped to the far side, she caught a glimpse of blonde hair. She couldn’t see much more around the guard, but she looked at the hall floor—two female feet in high, fancy pumps.
Fuck. The girlfriend. The one he’d said he didn’t have anymore.
She watched those feet walk toward Nick’s door and then in. His bodyguard turned and shifted, his hand coming up to his waist and then relaxing, when he recognized her. He made room for her, and she went on, trying not to look. But she couldn’t help one glance.
As Nick closed his door, with the girlfriend in there with him, his eyes met hers.
It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter. She and Nick had nothing going on between them but bad luck. It didn’t matter that he’d lied to her, because he didn’t matter. He was weightless.