It felt like the longest day ever, and I’d had some long days. But by six I was so ready to get out of there and back to my apartment that I told everyone they could go home if they wanted. You’d think I’d changed my name to Santa Claus. Vivien practically skipped out the door.
“Don’t think that this is going to be a regularly occurring thing!” I yelled after them. I never let them go early, but then, I was usually the last one there every night. I worked longer hours than anyone, and I didn’t make them do anything I wasn’t willing to do myself. Sure, I yelled more than I should, but I was fair. No one got fired without just cause.
Inari waited for me and we walked out together.
“You sure you don’t want to get dinner?”
I shook my head. “Nah, I should get home. I’m cooking for Lucah and Rory again.” I liked cooking for more than one. It gave me something to do in the evenings and it was a stress reliever after work.
“Sure thing. Well, I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, heading for the parking garage to get her car while I headed for the nearest T station. Sometimes I took a cab, but that was usually when it was raining, or I had to carry something heavy. Public transportation was much cheaper.
I checked my phone when I emerged from the station, but nothing. I sighed and walked toward my apartment. I looked up, wishing I could see the stars, but there were too many city lights. When I was a kid, I used to climb on the roof and watch the stars when I couldn’t sleep at night, which was on most nights. I was a chronic insomniac, which was probably why I got so much done.
For a second, I thought about walking to the garage nearby where I kept my car and then driving out of the city for a while. But I had dinner to make. A routine to keep. I just wished that routine still included a sexy redhead with a rocky past.
Four
I had a surprise waiting for me when I walked into my apartment. That very redhead I’d just been wishing I could see? He was standing right in my kitchen.
My brain only registered that there was a stranger in my apartment, so I screamed until I recognized it was Ryder and he wasn’t here to murder me. At least I didn’t think so.
“Holy shit!” I dropped my bags and clutched at my chest. My heart had jumped so hard, I thought it was going to rip out of my ribcage and cower under the couch.
“Sorry.” He didn’t seem to be the least bit sorry. He leaned on the counter as if he broke into people’s houses every day. For all I knew, he did. He certainly looked like someone who would break into your house, with paint-covered, ripped jeans, a t-shirt that had seen better days, and just the barest hint of red stubble standing out on his chin. And those eyes. Blue like the ocean at night. The tattoos that poked out from the sleeves of his shirt only added to the ne’er-do-well persona.
“What the fuck are you doing here? How did you get in?”
He stood up straight. “You gave me a key, remember?”
Oh, right. I’d forgotten about that. I’d given it to him a while ago. But he didn’t answer my first question.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I asked again. We’d discuss the lock picking later.
“Well, remember how I said we shouldn’t be friends and shouldn’t see each other unless it was in a group circumstance and completely platonic?”
“My memory isn’t that terrible. I think I can remember a question we had yesterday,” I said with ice in my voice.
“Well, I decided I didn’t want to do that. Fuck it. I like seeing you. I like talking to you. We should be able to see each other and talk and shit, right?”
Well, I thought so, but he was the one who’d decided he didn’t want to. Yesterday.
“So, you’re saying forget all the stuff you said less than twenty-four hours ago? About me making you want to do bad things and all that?” I sounded bitter. I didn’t mean to.
“Uh, yeah. Fuck that shit. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m sorry that I’m jerking you around. It’s just that my head is so mixed up. It’s hard to function normally when you’re used to being high or drunk, or on something. Just being normal is . . . hard. Really hard.”
I could understand that. And I did make a lot of allowances for the fact that he was still getting his shit together and recovering. I tried to be patient, but it wasn’t easy.
“Okayyyyy,” I said slowly. “So, does this mean we’re going to be friends? Have you talked to your brother about this?” Like we needed his permission. But still, I was pretty sure he wouldn’t like us hanging out together, even if it was platonic.
“No, I haven’t talked to him about it, but I will. I’ll keep you out of it.”
I laughed once. “Yeah, how are you going to do that?”
“I don’t know. But I will. I’ll just explain that you were really there for me when I was in the hospital and that you’re an integral part of me staying clean and sober and away from the bad influences in my life. The other night was an anomaly. It won’t happen again.” It sounded so easy and believable when he said it.
He looked at me with such hope in his eyes.
“That sounds well and good, but is he going to buy that?” I asked.