“Fine, yeah,” I said. “Sam, this is my friend Lauren and my brother Nate. Guys, this is Sam.”
Sam did his polite nod and set down my bag. “Can I do anything else for you, Mrs Ferris?”
“No, Sam. Thank you for seeing me home.”
“You’re very welcome.” He looked to the door then back at me, a small wrinkle between his brows. I couldn’t be certain, but I think it was as close as Sam got to an actual frown. His facial expressions seemed limited. Restrained was probably a better word. He reached out and gave me a stiff pat on the back. Then he left, closing the door behind him.
My eyes heated, threatening tears. I blinked like crazy, holding it in. His kindness nearly cracked the numb, damn it. I couldn’t afford that yet.
“So, you two?” I asked.
“We’re together. Yes,” said Lauren, reaching behind her. Nate took her hand and held on tight. They actually looked good together. Though, seriously, how much stranger could things get? My world had changed. It felt different, though the small apartment looked the same. Things were pretty much where I’d left them. Lauren’s collection of demented porcelain cats still sat on a shelf collecting dust. Our cheap or second-hand furniture and turquoise blue walls hadn’t altered. Though I might never use the table again, considering what I’d seen. Lord knew what else they’d been up to on there.
I flexed my fingers, willing some life back into my limbs. “I thought you two hated each other?”
“We did,” confirmed Lauren. “But, you know … now we don’t. It’s a surprisingly uncomplicated story, actually. It just kind of happened while you were away.”
“Wow.”
“Nice dress,” said Lauren, looking me over.
“Thanks.”
“Valentino?”
I smoothed the blue fabric over my stomach. “I don’t know.”
“That’s a statement, matching it with the sneakers,” Lauren said. Then she gave Nate a look. They apparently already had the silent communication thing down because he tippy-toed off toward her bedroom. Interesting …
My best friend and my brother. And she’d never said a word. But then, there were plenty of things I hadn’t told her either. Maybe we were past the age of sharing every last little detail of our lives. How sad.
Loneliness and a healthy dose of self-pity cooled me right off and I wrapped my arms around myself.
Lauren came over and pried one of my hands loose. “Hon, what happened?”
I shook my head, warding off questions. “I can’t. Not yet.”
She joined me leaning against the wall. “I have ice cream.”
“What kind?”
“Triple choc. I was thinking of torturing your brother with it later in a sexually explicit manner.”
There went my vague interest in ice cream. I scrubbed my face with my hands. “Lauren, if you love me, you’ll never say anything like that to me ever again.”
“Sorry.”
I almost smiled. My mouth definitely came close to it but faltered at the last. “Nate makes you happy, doesn’t he?”
“Yeah, he really does. It just feels like … I don’t know, it’s like we’re in tune or something. Ever since the night he picked me up from your folks’ place we’ve pretty much been together. It feels right. He’s not angry like he used to be in high school. He’s given up his man-slut ways. He’s calmed down and grown up. Shit, out of the two of us he’s the sensible one.” She mock pouted. “But our days of sharing every last detail about our lives really are over, aren’t they?”
“I guess they are.”
“Ah, well. We’ll always have middle school.”
“Yeah.” I managed a smile.
“Hon, I’m sorry things went bad. I mean, that’s obviously why you’re back looking like shit in that absolutely exquisite dress.” She eyed up my gown with great lust.
“You can have it.” Hell, she could have all of the other stuff as well. I never wanted to touch any of it ever again. His jacket I’d left with Sam, the ring stuffed into a pocket. Sam would take care of it. See that it got back to him. My hand seemed bare without it, lighter. Lighter and freer should have gone together but they didn’t. Inside me sat a great weight. I’d been dragging my sorry ass around for hours now. Onto the plane. Off the plane. Into the car. Up the stairs. Neither time nor distance had helped so far.
“I want to hug you but you’re giving off that don’t-touch-me vibe,” she said, propping her hands on her slim hips. “Tell me what to do.”
“Sorry.” The smile I gave her was twisted and awful. I could feel it. “Later?”