The Last One(75)

“Who’re you looking for?” I opened the door a little wider and put one hand on my hip.

“I’m—” He started to speak again, and then he looked over my shoulder, and his eyes brightened. “Hey, Megs!”

I looked over my shoulder at Meghan, who stood frozen a few feet behind me. Her eyes were round and her mouth had dropped open.

The guy smiled at me. “I came to see Meghan. I had the address, but I wasn’t sure if this was the place.”

“Owen.” Meghan’s voice was flat, and when she said his name, it dashed my hopes that this dude was her brother, whose name I knew was Joseph.

“Surprise!” Whoever he was, this Owen didn’t know how to read Meghan at all. He was still going on as though this was a big happy pop-up visit, when I could see in her face that she wasn’t happy. Well, join the club, because I wasn’t either. Matter of fact, I was damned pissed.

“Owen, what are you doing here?” Her tone bordered on hostile. Hell, it more than bordered. It actually set up camp there. That made me just a little happier.

He was beginning to get the picture, and the shit-eating grin on his face faltered. “I was just ... I got back to town, after being away all summer. Remember, I went to Europe with Dr. Edgars?”

If Meghan remembered this, she wasn’t copping to it. She lifted her shoulder in a little no-but-keep-going gesture.

“Yeah, well, I got back to Savannah, and I went by to see you, and the girl who’s staying in your apartment told me you were here. I mean, she gave me your address.”

I raised one eyebrow and looked at Meghan. She rolled her eyes. “Laura and I sub-let our apartment to one of Laura’s friends who was doing summer session. I don’t know why she’d give out my address, though.”

A sense of warmth spread through me when Meghan called my house her address. I wanted to rub it in this idiot Owen’s face, that my farm was where she belonged.

“And I really don’t know why you’d haul your ass all the way out here to see me, Owen. Without calling. What the hell?”

“I figured you were bored out here in the sticks, and I was going to come and take you to dinner. Some place nice, back in the city. Give you a little break.” He glanced at me. “I thought you could use it by now. You’re not a prisoner here, you know.”

“Owen.” Meghan’s tone said clearly that she’d had enough. “You have no idea ...” And then she stopped and dropped her head into her hand, sighing. She looked up at me, her eyes pleading for something. I wasn’t sure what it was. “Sam, would you give me just a minute with Owen? We’ll sit out on the porch. And then I’ll be right back in.” She walked past me, not giving me the chance to say no. Her hand trailed over my chest as she stepped over the threshold.

There was nothing for me to do but close the door behind her. I didn’t slam it, which I thought spoke well of my maturity, and I didn’t hover in the living room, on the other side of the front windows, like my dad used to do when I began dating and brought girls home to sit on the porch. I stalked back into the kitchen, pulled out a kitchen chair and sat down.

I had no idea who this Owen was, but he was obviously someone she knew from school. He’d mentioned going on a trip. Europe, with a doctor somebody, probably one of their professors, I thought. I wondered if Meghan would regret that instead of spending her months off partying through foreign countries and checking out all the art she’d studied, she’d been stuck here on a farm in Georgia, teaching sticky little kids how to draw and hanging out with a guy old enough—well, older. Grumpy, that was what she’d called me.

I’d let myself forget for a little while how different we were. When it was just us, out here on the farm, it was easy to see what we had in common and how well Meghan meshed with my life. But that wasn’t reality. Reality was her apartment in the city with Laura, classes and parties and the college world. It wasn’t meeting me at the end of the day, fishing by the river all night or sitting with me out on the porch. She’d told me from the beginning that this was just a fling. Just something temporary between two people who didn’t want strings attached. If I was hurt now, I had no one to blame but myself.

“Sam.” She leaned against the doorway to the kitchen, and she looked ... drained. Her eyes were tired, but she tried a smile that I knew was for my benefit only. “Sorry about that.”

I didn’t answer. I wasn’t sure I could speak without saying something I’d regret. Something that might be close to begging.

She crossed to sit in a chair across the table from me. “That was Owen. Well, you probably figured that out. Sorry I didn’t introduce you, but I was really shocked to see him. As you could probably tell.”