Coming Home Page 5
She bristled. “I know how to change a flat.”
“Oh? Then why didn’t you?”
“Just because I can doesn’t mean I’d want to do it on the side of a snowy highway in the dark during rush hour.”
He looked her over, trying to imagine her changing a tire. Those delicate, feminine hands. Her narrow, girlish frame. Could he picture her under a car?
Yeah, he could. And it was hot as hell.
Leah narrowed her eyes at him before her expression straightened, and she nodded. “Ah, okay. I get it. It all makes sense now.”
“Get what?”
“You judge people,” she said casually, taking a bite of her salad. “You’re a judger.”
“What?” He laughed. “I don’t judge people.”
“Of course you do. You’ve done it to me twice now.”
“Bullshit! How have I judged you twice?”
“Well, first I was a stupid asshole because of where I parked my car. And now I’m incapable of changing a flat because…what? My nails are done? I’m wearing heels? Or is it simply because I have boobs and a vagina?”
He stared at her, trying to mask his amusement. “I thought we determined that you were an asshole because of where you parked your car.”
She smiled before regaining control of her expression, trying to look stern.
Danny laughed, taking another bite of his food. “All kidding aside, you have my number from when I called the other night. Program me into your phone. Don’t wait for Triple A to dick you around in a situation like that. Me or one of my guys could have been out there in under twenty minutes the other night.”
“Thanks, that’s nice of you.”
“Not a problem,” he said, licking the soy sauce off his thumb.
Her eyes dropped to his mouth and then darted back up, her cheeks flushing a light pink as she refocused on her salad.
He wanted to smile victoriously, to puff his chest out like the moronic, testosterone-driven male he was. But instead he focused his attention on his appetizer. Because as much as he did enjoy that blush, it was going to be his goddamn undoing.
He took another bite of his spring roll, making a conscious decision not to do anything that would bring it out again.
The waitress came back to the table with their main courses, and the conversation continued to flow effortlessly between them. Leah was the perfect mixture of snarky and sweet, confident and shy. By the end of the meal, Danny felt oddly comfortable with her, like he had known her for years.
Once he had paid the check, despite the objection from Leah, he helped her on with her coat and followed her to the door, holding it open for her as she exited the restaurant.
“Where are you parked?” he asked.
“In the parking garage two blocks down,” she said, motioning with her head.
“I’ll walk you,” he said, grasping at any attempt to prolong the afternoon with her.
He didn’t want it to end. But it shouldn’t have even started. And he knew that.
“Thanks,” she said, wrapping her scarf around her neck, and Danny resisted the impulse to reach for her hand as they started down the block.
By the time they arrived at her car, his chest felt heavy.
She turned to him, bouncing slightly on her toes with a shy smile. “Well, thanks again for lunch. I had fun.”
“Me too,” he said hollowly.
Her brow pulled together slightly as she tilted her head, but she quickly replaced the expression with another smile. “Okay, so…”
She looked up at him in that way that made him want to hug her. Something momentarily flashed across her eyes, and as soon as he pinpointed what it was, his chest tightened further.
Hope.
She looked hopeful, staring up at him like that.
End this. Now.
“So…get home safe,” he said, taking a step back from her.
Her expression dropped at the same time her shoulders did. It was the tiniest change in her appearance; he would’ve missed it if he hadn’t been watching her so closely.
“You too,” she said politely before she got in the car and pulled the door closed. He watched as she started it up, rubbing her hands together in front of the vents.
There was no way he could allow himself to see her again. Inviting her to lunch had been a momentary lapse of judgment, but to consciously pursue her? That would be completely reckless.
Not to mention selfish.
As Leah carefully backed out of her parking space and continued down the exit ramp of the garage, Danny dropped his head back, covering his face with both hands.
She didn’t look back.
“Do they sell those chicken-cutlet titty boosters in this store?”
Leah whipped her head toward her friend, laughing as she pressed her hand over Holly’s mouth.
“You do realize this dressing room isn’t soundproof, right?”
“Why? Because it’s a secret that I’m rocking the chest of a prepubescent boy?” she asked, cupping her small breasts and giving them a squeeze.
“Stop,” Leah said, swatting at Holly’s hands. “You’re proportional.”
“And you’re delusional,” she said. “Turn around, I’ll zip you up.”
Leah turned, and as Holly zipped up the dress behind her, she felt the form-fitting bodice tighten around her torso. As far as bridesmaids’ dresses went, she really had nothing to complain about; it was truly beautiful—a deep rose-colored gown with a strapless sweetheart neckline. The snug bodice transitioned into a soft, sinuous silhouette that flowed delicately to the floor.
“See?” Holly said. “Now that’s how knockers should look in a dress.”
Leah looked over her shoulder at her friend. “You should really think about teaching a class on social etiquette.”
Holly winked before turning to examine herself in the mirror.
“Lemme see, lemme see!” Robyn called from outside the dressing room, and Holly leaned over and swung the curtain aside.
Robyn squealed, clapping her hands quickly as she walked in a circle around them. “Perfect! You guys look hot.” She gave them another once-over before she said, “Awesome. Okay then, get dressed and let’s get the hell out of here and get some dinner. And more importantly, some drinks. I’m gonna go get us a table.”
She pulled the curtain closed behind her as she walked out, and Leah and Holly smiled at each other. Robyn was—by far—the most composed, unstressed, laid-back bride they had ever known.
One of the many reasons Leah loved her so much.
Leah turned her back to Holly, offering her the zipper. “Okay, do me and I’ll do you.”
“I don’t normally swing that way, but you do look hot right now.”
Someone cleared her throat loudly in the next fitting room, and Leah fought a laugh, bringing her finger to her lips.
Holly was the first friend she’d made when she moved to Bedford in the seventh grade. On Leah’s first day, Holly pulled up a chair next to her in homeroom and asked to see her schedule, scanning it for a minute before she went off on a detailed explanation of where every class was, which teachers were awesome, and which “sucked ass,” as she put it. Then she offered to walk Leah to her first class, since they had it together.
They’d been friends ever since.
The summer before ninth grade, they met Robyn—she had just moved to New York from Michigan and ended up working at the same summer camp as Leah and Holly. The three of them were inseparable for the next four years and visited one another every chance they got throughout college. To this day, Leah’s father still referred to them as the Three Stooges.
As Leah was putting her clothes back on, her phone buzzed with an e-mail notification. She reached down and grabbed it, opening the message with one hand while she slipped her shoes back on with the other.
It was the delivery confirmation for the flowers she’d sent to Catherine.
She smiled, closing out of the message and tossing her phone back into he
r purse. Leah had been trying to think of something nice she could do for her ever since their visit, and that morning, she had noticed an advertisement for one of those national online flower distributors on her homepage. The arrangement on the ad was an elaborate display of daffodils in a beautiful embossed vase. She instantly thought of Catherine—how she seemed to have a thing for daffodils—and ordered the arrangement right before she left to meet Robyn and Holly at the boutique.
Once the girls were dressed, they went across the street to the little Mexican restaurant that Robyn loved, only to find her already seated at a table with a pitcher of margaritas and three glasses.
“I would totally propose right now if you weren’t already getting married,” Leah said as she sat at the table and poured herself a drink.
“Speaking of,” Holly said as she took the pitcher Leah handed her, “how’s the whole celibacy thing going?”
Robyn groaned, dropping her face into her hands. “I’m such an idiot. It sounded like such a good idea, you know? I mean, your wedding night is supposed to be this big, momentous event. What’s big and momentous about having sex with someone you’ve been sleeping with for eight years?”
“So why not just renege?” Holly asked, reaching for a chip and dunking it in the salsa.
“Because we’ve already made it this far. It’s only a couple more weeks. Besides, I’m so hard up at this point that any sex I get will be mind-blowing. Our wedding night is pretty much guaranteed to make me see stars.”
Holly lifted her glass. “Well, here’s to hoping you don’t hump his leg midway through the ceremony.”
They all cracked up, earning looks from the other patrons in the restaurant just as the faint sound of Leah’s phone pulled her attention from the revelry. She reached into her purse and pulled it out just enough to check the screen.
And then she scowled, sending the call to voice mail before tossing it back into her bag.
“What was that about?” Robyn asked, nodding toward Leah’s purse.
“Nothing,” she answered dismissively, reaching for the chips. She scooped up a heap of salsa and shoved the whole thing in her mouth, trying to ignore the fact that both girls were staring at her deliberately.
“Leah.”
“Ugh, fine,” she mumbled around her mouthful of food, reaching for her drink and taking a huge gulp to wash everything down before she said, “He’s calling again.”
“Scott?” both girls said in unison, their voices incredulous, and Leah nodded.
“Fuck that,” Holly said firmly. “Pick up the goddamn phone and tell him to go to hell.”
“When did this start again?” Robyn asked.
“Just before Christmas. So, like two weeks, I guess.”
“Have you spoken to him?”
Leah shook her head.
“What a douchebag,” Holly huffed, taking a sip of her margarita.
“Whatever. It’s not a big deal. I’m just gonna ignore him.”
“I just don’t get it,” Robyn said. “I mean, does he really think you’d take him back?”
Leah grimaced, looking down. This was the last thing she wanted to be talking about. Talking made her remember, and she hated remembering.
She’d been driving home from the hospital the night her father had his heart attack. Leah had cried the entire way, struggling to see through her swollen eyes and the tears that blurred her vision. She had almost lost him—and she knew she could still lose him. He was in critical condition, his prognosis uncertain, and she couldn’t stop thinking about how much time she had wasted. She was furious at herself. At her obstinate behavior.
And at that moment, she was furious at her boyfriend.
When she had called to tell him what happened to her father, he told her how sorry he was, but when she asked him to come to the hospital with her, he said he couldn’t—that his brother was out drinking with some friends, and he’d promised to be available to pick them up at the end of the night.
Scott had never really liked Leah’s family—he’d made it very clear in the almost three years they’d been together—so it was typical of him to come up with some excuse as to why he couldn’t spend time with them.
But this was different. And he should have recognized that.
He’d told her to keep him updated and that he’d check up on her later, but all she wanted was for him to be there with her. Supporting her.
Leah made an impulse decision, getting off the highway two exits early and heading toward his place instead of her own apartment. She wanted to tell him that he’d let her down.
But more than that, she just wanted to be held.
She wanted him to wrap her in his arms and press his lips into her hair and tell her everything was going to be okay.
That she wasn’t a terrible person.
When he didn’t answer the door, Leah assumed he’d gone out to pick up his brother, so she used the key hidden in the outdoor sconce to let herself in.
As soon as she opened the door, she knew something was wrong.
She could hear music playing faintly—Dave Matthews Band crooning “Crush.” Leah took another step into the apartment, and her eye was immediately drawn to the coffee table, where there was a half-empty bottle of Shiraz.
With two wine glasses next to it.
A horrible, wrenching sensation knotted her stomach as she looked down the hallway toward his bedroom.
And that’s when she heard the muffled moan.
She had no idea why she even walked toward the door. She knew what she would find. But it was like some sadistic, unseen force had taken control of her body—her head screamed for her to leave as her legs continued to carry her toward his bedroom.
And then her hand was on the doorknob, turning it gently as she pushed it open.
The smell hit her in the face like a slap—scented candles and alcohol and sex—and she could see his bare back as he held his weight up in his arms, his hips moving steadily between the pedicured feet wrapped securely about his waist.
She stared at the image before her, everything taking on the fuzzy, surreal quality of a dream.
This wasn’t real. There was no way this could be happening.
He lifted his head then, whipping it over his shoulder and making eye contact with her. His movements slowed as he looked at her, his expression more confused than remorseful.
From below him, where a mess of red hair was splayed out over the pillow, Leah saw a hand reach up and turn his face, pulling him back down for a kiss.
It was as if the cord that had been tethering her in place suddenly snapped, and she stumbled backward, knocking over the lamp on the table behind her as she turned and ran out the door. She made it as far as the bottom of the stairs outside before she dropped to her knees and vomited.
Leah collapsed on the ground as she continued to gasp for air between coughs and sobs. Despite the fact that she couldn’t bear to be there a minute longer, after everything she’d been through that night, she didn’t have the strength to move.
He never even came out to find her.
She had no idea how long she sat there on the floor, but eventually Leah pulled herself up and stumbled to her car. She knew there was no way she could drive. She couldn’t even see. But she managed to call Robyn, and as soon as she answered, Leah broke into hysterics again, wailing unintelligibly into the phone. Somehow, Robyn was able piece together where she was, and it wasn’t long before Holly and Robyn were there, their arms wrapped around her as they kissed her head and rubbed her hair, telling her that everything was going to be okay.
“We don’t have to talk about this,” Robyn said, pulling her from the memory as she laid her hand over Leah’s.
Leah kept her eyes down as she nodded. “Yeah, I’d rather not. I’m just gonna ignore him, and he’ll eventually stop, like he always does.”
“Yeah, until the next time,” Holly said angrily. “Seriously, you should just change your number and end this shit once and for all.�
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“You know that wouldn’t end it, Holly. He knows where I live. He’d still be able to send me things.”
The last time he decided he wanted to reconcile, it had been flowers and playlists he’d burned on to CDs for her.
“Hmm,” Holly said, pursing her lips. “Well, then how about a taser to his ball sack? Bet that would end it.”
Robyn snorted as Leah cupped her hand to her mouth, and then all at once the three of them were hysterically laughing.
“Oh my God, your bracelet!” Robyn said suddenly, her eyes wide as she pointed to Leah’s wrist.
Leah spun it gently. “Oh yeah. I forgot to tell you guys.”
“The old lady found it?” Holly asked.
“No, her grandson did. Well, sort of grandson.”
Robyn let out a huge breath. “Ugh, thank God. I kept picturing your dad’s face when he found out and it made me want to cry. When did you go back down there to get it?”
“I didn’t. Her grandson met me in White Plains.”
Robyn and Holly exchanged a look, and Holly put down her glass, folding her hands on the table and looking pointedly at Leah.
She rolled her eyes. “Cut the crap. It wasn’t like that. He was just being nice.”
“Hmm, a nice guy. Good start. So what’s he look like?”
“Um, tall. Black hair. Blue eyes.” Leah shrugged.
“Cute?” Robyn asked, her brow lifted.
Leah reached for another chip. “I guess.”
Holly narrowed her eyes, pointing at Leah. “Come clean. You want his bod. You think he’s sexy.”
Leah smirked as she stared at the chip in her hand, turning it over. “He’s kind of sexy,” she conceded softly, and Holly whipped her head toward Robyn, her eyes huge.
“Oh my God, I was only kidding! Leah, that’s awesome!”
She shook her head. “It’s not a big deal.”
“It is a big deal,” Robyn said, swatting at Leah’s arm. “This is the first time in like forever that you’ve even looked at a guy that way!”
“I know. It’s unsettling.”
“No, sweetie. It’s a good thing,” Holly insisted. “You can’t let that fucktard ruin you. Not all guys are like him.”
Leah took a breath and nodded just as Robyn said, “So what happened? You met him in White Plains, and then what? He gave you the bracelet and left?”