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Page 8
Page 8
He came to a stop at a red light just as another unwelcome image assailed him. A familiar woman, forcibly pushing him away, eyes filled with disgust. Get away from me. What is wrong with you? I don’t even know you anymore, Matt.
Unease clogged his throat. Had he missed the signs with Sasha? Even worse, had he…ignored them? It had been so damn long since he’d allowed that side of him to surface, maybe he’d been too overcome with need to recognize that she’d wanted him to stop. What other explanation could there be for her sudden urgency to leave? If he’d had his way, they would still be in that motel room. He’d be fucking her in the shower, on the bed, on any available surface he could find. He sure as shit wouldn’t be getting ready to drop her off at a fucking Starbucks in Midtown.
As soon as they’d gotten on the road, her plan had changed. She’d texted a “friend” who apparently thought it was easier if they met at yet another coffee shop. This friend thought their apartment would be too hard for them to find. He hadn’t bought it. He didn’t want to drop her off at all, but if he was being forced to leave her somewhere, he wanted to see her there safely.
Maybe she’s scared of you and doesn’t want you to know where she’s staying.
Matt swallowed that disturbing thought, hoping it wasn’t true. The light turned green and he eased off the brake. He wanted to see her again. Hell, he needed to. If only to make up for taking her from behind on the floor of a motel room. She deserved better than that. He wanted to be the one who gave it to her. Had he blown his only chance? This couldn’t be the last time he laid eyes on her. The very notion of their association ending in mere minutes felt undeniably wrong.
Up ahead, the Starbucks came into view and he barely resisted the impulse to keep driving. All the way to his downtown apartment. How would she react? Not well, he thought, wryly. As much as she’d surrendered to him that afternoon, she was full of fire. Not the type to take lightly a man changing her plans without consulting her.
With a brick in his stomach, Matt pulled his car to a stop outside the Starbucks. Right on cue, Sasha opened her eyes and gave an exaggerated stretch. “Good timing,” he said.
She blinked innocently. “W-where are we?”
Right. He sighed and climbed out of the car to retrieve her suitcase, all the while trying to figure out how to convince her to give him another chance. He could see her rounding the car through the back windshield, could see her nervous expression. Already, he could practically feel her slipping out of his reach. You did this. It’s your fault she can’t wait to get away from you.
The second Sasha reached him, she curled her hand under the handle of the suitcase. “Thank you. I, um…appreciate the ride.”
It was right on the tip of his tongue to tell her he wasn’t leaving. That he wouldn’t just drop her off in the middle of New York City and drive away. That it felt unnatural to leave her, period. But she continued to avoid his gaze, shifting nervously like she might break out into a sprint at any minute. It was worse than he’d anticipated. If he insisted on staying with her, it could increase the damage he’d already done.
Having no other choice, Matt reached into the still-open trunk and retrieved his police notepad from the duffel bag he kept stored there. As she watched wide-eyed, he wrote his phone number down on a piece of paper and handed it to her. He knew if he asked for hers, she would balk. This would not be the last time he saw her, though. If it meant biting the bullet and asking Brent to get her number from Lucy, he would do it. Even if it meant handing his friend enough material to torture him with for years. She was worth it.
“If you need anything, you call me. Anything.” Unable to resist, he took a step closer, letting his fingers trace down the side of her face. Did her lower lip tremble of out fear or something else? “I don’t like this.”
“What?” she whispered.
“Not knowing where you’ll be. Who you’ll be with.”
She looked to the side. “You’re not responsible for me.”
His thumb brushed her lip. Fuck it. He couldn’t hold anything back with his girl. “Maybe I want to be. Use my number, Sasha.”
Her eyes squeezed shut and she visibly shook herself, as if he’d said something to break the spell. “Matt, look. I appreciate the ride, but I have to go.”
Reluctantly, he let his hand drop. “Use my number.”
She didn’t reply.
He watched as she wheeled her suitcase into the Starbucks, vanishing from his sight. For long moments, he couldn’t get his legs to move, but finally managed to get into his car and pull away from the curb. If he felt like he’d forgotten something, it was because he had. Briefly. Now, as he drove alone, farther away from her, he remembered what it was.
Alone was the best place for him.
…
Lucy bought a cup of coffee and waited for Matt’s car to leave, drinking deeply of the hot, black liquid to keep herself from running after him. Telling him everything. The way he’d looked at her when they parted ways…it had left her feeling hollow inside. When he finally left, she sat rooted to her chair for long minutes, staring at nothing, before pulling her cell phone out of her shorts pocket. After a minute of debate, she dialed Hayden.
Her brother’s fiancée answered on the second ring, sounding surprised. “Lucy?”
“Hey.”
A brief pause. “Where are you and Sasha? I thought you’d be here by now.”
She meant Brent’s house in Queens, where Matt would have dropped her off, if he’d known she was actually Lucy. If she didn’t have a strict budget to get her through the week, she would have walked outside and hailed a cab to Brent’s place. But as it was, she’d already be scraping by without springing for the extra thirty dollars. “I had a…change of plans. I’m at a Starbucks in Manhattan. And it’s just me. Sasha couldn’t make it.” She blew out a breath. “Listen, I wouldn’t ask for a ride unless I really needed it—”
“Say no more. I’ll call Brent and let him know—”
“Actually, do you mind keeping this between us?” She didn’t want to get Matt in trouble with her brother when he’d done nothing wrong. “Just for now?”
A brief pause. “Text me the address. I’m on the way.”
Half an hour later, Lucy watched Hayden double-park her silver Lexus and step out onto the sidewalk. Wow. Lucy had gathered, based on Brent’s description, that Hayden was a stunner, but she hadn’t been prepared for the polar opposite of her brash, ball-breaking brother to show up. Polished and put-together, she practically radiated her upper-crust upbringing.
Lucy tossed her empty coffee cup in the trash and wheeled her suitcase outside to join her, feeling more than a little self-conscious in her cutoff shorts and hair that looked like it had been put through a weed whacker. When she noticed Hayden wringing her hands, clearly just as nervous for their first meeting, she was put immediately at ease.
“The prodigal daughter has returned.”
Hayden smiled warmly. “Lucy.”
They hesitated, then hugged a little awkwardly. “Sorry to bring you all the way out here.”
“Not a problem. Brent had to work a late shift tonight, so I was just catching up on some paperwork. Anyway, I’ve been told to expect the unexpected with you.”
When Hayden popped the trunk, Lucy heaved her suitcase inside, ignoring the sting that came along with the good-natured remark. “It’s true. I like to keep everyone on their toes.”
Seconds later, they pulled into traffic and were heading uptown. After living in Syracuse so long, being in Manhattan felt like she’d landed on a different planet. Lights, sounds, rumbling, shouting, movement. It didn’t make her nervous, though. Anticipation and a curl excitement filled a little bit of the hole the afternoon had left inside her, but not nearly enough to forget Matt’s face as she walked away. Think of something else.
“So, Hayden. If you don’t mind me asking…?”
“Fire away.”
“How did my brother manage to land you?”
>
Hayden’s laugh bounced around the interior of the car. “I assure you, I landed him.”
Lucy considered the brunette, heard the sincerity ringing in her voice, and nodded. “Nice pull, Brent,” she murmured, staring back through the windshield.
“Since we’re asking questions,” Hayden began hesitantly, “do you want to tell me why Matt dropped you off in the wrong place? That’s not like him. He’s normally very…regimented.”
Something about the car’s dark interior and the exhaustion that suddenly came over her had tears threatening behind Lucy’s eyes. The need to unburden herself, if just partially, couldn’t be denied. “I screwed up,” she whispered. “Matt didn’t do anything wrong.”