Say You're Mine(55)

“Heck yeah,” Daisy said, dusting her hands off and coming around the counter. She was petite and redheaded and too gorgeous for words. And single for the same reason as Mark. They would be adorable together.

Maybe it was the fact that her own life was a freaking wreck, but seeing the two of them happy…maybe together…would make her feel a lot better. “I met someone.”

“Already?” Daisy asked, clearly taken aback. “You and Steven just—”

Lauren held a hand up. “God, not for me. For you.”

“Not even talking about it.” She shook her head. “Not yet. Maybe another day.”

“Too soon?” Lauren asked sympathetically. Daisy had lost her boyfriend to a car wreck a year ago. They had been in love, and happy, but that’s why she and Mark made sense. They’d both loved and lost and would understand what the other went through. “It’s been a year…”

“Way too soon.” She crossed her arms. “Let’s talk about something else. Anything else besides boys. Please.”

Lauren cut into the pie, and nodded. “How’s work?”

“Long. Boring.” Daisy was a cop. She might look small and helpless, but she was kick-ass. “No one’s robbing anyone or causing trouble. It’s been quiet.”

“Poor you.” Laughing, Lauren slid a plate over. “You’re ridiculous.”

Daisy laughed, too. “Whatever.”

The rest of their conversation focused on work, and life. Anything but love, and broken hearts, and it was great. By the time Lauren left the bakery, she’d made tentative dinner plans for the next day with Daisy, and she felt a little more alive. A little more whole, too.

She’d survive this. Whatever didn’t kill you made you stronger.

Even Kelly Clarkson agreed.

She trudged down the sidewalk, hugging her purse to her chest, and tried not to think about him. Tried not to ruin her happy little buzz. So when she pushed her door open, she froze in shock. Either her mind was playing tricks on her and she had gone completely crazy…

Or Steven had just come out of her bedroom.

She gripped the doorknob. “Uh…”

He froze midstride.

Mark was right. He looked awful. His cheekbones were gaunt and his skin was an ashen green. He had huge dark circles under his eyes, like he hadn’t slept since he walked out of her life without looking back. He also appeared to be hungover.

Neither of them spoke.

After a while, he tugged on his hair and cleared his throat. “I was getting my stuff out of your place and trying to come up with a good speech for when you got home. I thought you wouldn’t be home for another hour or so.”

“I left early,” she replied, keeping her voice as flat and even as his.

“Yeah, I guessed as much,” he answered, hugging his balled up clothes to his chest. His gaze dipped down her body, leaving a blazing trail of heat in its wake, and her heart sped up. “You look…good.”

“You don’t.”

He laughed. “I haven’t been drinking, if that’s what you’re thinking. Haven’t had a drop since the night we got together.”

Relief fluttered through her chest. He might be done with her and able to walk away without a second thought, but she still cared about him very much—and if she’d managed to get him to see straight in the process of losing him…at least she had that. “Good.”

“I just can’t sleep,” he admitted.

They fell silent again.

She stared at him.

For the second time, he broke the silence. “Fuck, this is harder than I thought it would be.” He rocked back on his heels and let out a small laugh. “Have you seen my blue shirt? I couldn’t find it.”

She set her bag down and walked past him. Walking over to the bed, she yanked the covers back and pulled out his blue T-shirt. Though she would never admit it to him, she’d slept with it for the past three nights.

Walking back into the living room, she tossed it at him. “Here.”

“Oh.” He caught it easily enough, even though his arms were already full of clothes. That annoyed her. Everything about him annoyed her, at this point in time. “Thanks.”

She didn’t reply. This whole thing was ridiculous, and painful, and it just needed to be over. He was treating her like she was a stranger, and she was letting him.

“I guess that’s everything.”

“Great,” she said, sugar sweetly. In her head, she gouged his eyes out. “Bye.”

He flinched. “Look, I—”

“Screw off,” she snapped. “And get out.”

“Why are you mad at me?” His nostrils flared and he stepped closer, gripping his bundle even tighter. At least he didn’t look dead anymore. “I’m not the one who lied.”