Swallowing over the lump in my throat, I reach across the pillow and touch his hand. “I think you’re right,” I say softly.
“Do you think he forgives me? For leaving him?” His voice is strained with emotion.
I nod slowly. “I know he does. I don’t think he ever thought you left, Blue. I think he knew you lent him to us.”
Tears fall from his cheek and onto Acorn’s fur. “I hope so,” he whispers.
I watch as he says goodbye to his dog, and I can’t help but wonder if him staying in the shed with Acorn when he was just a teenager messed him up and that’s why he repeated it later when he was older.
After we’ve said our goodbyes, we stay with Acorn until the very end, and the vet leaves us alone for a few more minutes. Blue immediately pulls me into his arms, and we cry together, burying the hatchet to cling to each other in grief. When it’s time to leave, we walk out into the parking lot, silent and emotionally drained. He walks me to my car, lights up a cigarette, and stares up into the star-speckled black sky.
“That was officially one of the worst moments of my life,” he says. “And I’ve had a lot.”
I lean against the back of my car and breathe in the cool air. A deep pain has settled in my chest and in the pit of my stomach.
“Thank you for letting me be here. It feels right.” He exhales a plume of smoke. “That we did it together.”
“I think so, too.”
He puts out his cigarette on the bottom of his boot and shoves the butt in his back pocket, just like he used to do.
Some things never change.
Shoving his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, he steps closer to me and I can feel him looking me up and down.
“What’s made you so distant, Ladybug?”
I cross my arms over my chest. “You did.”
He steps closer. Too close.
“That means I can undo it.”
I refuse to look up at him. I’m not going to fall into the hypnotic trap of his dark eyes again. I know my weaknesses when it comes to him. It may have taken me years, but I’m smarter now.
“You can’t,” I reply.
He bends his head down close to mine. “Wanna bet?” he whispers next to my ear.
I smack my hand into his chest. “Stop it.”
He sighs and rocks on his heels. “I’m only here for one night. Tomorrow afternoon I fly back out.”
“So?”
“So let’s not waste it. I haven’t seen you in fuckin’ years.”
“That’s your own fault. You wrecked everything. I’m not letting you do it again.”
He reaches out and touches my face. “I miss you, Piper. We just went through something horrible together. Don’t you feel the same? Don’t you want to spend time with me?”
“I do, Blue. But I also value my sanity now.”
He continues to caress my cheek. “Sanity is overrated, baby.”
He kisses my forehead. Then the tip of my nose. And then, my lips.
We kiss soft and slow, tasting each other, remembering each other. His tongue dances over mine, hints of metal and smoke fill my mouth. He has always been my favorite flavor. Grasping my waist, he lifts me up onto the trunk of my car and moves between my legs, not breaking our kiss. I wrap my thighs around him, my arms around his neck, and welcome the hardness of his body against mine. He’s like riding a bicycle, the balance, movement, and fit is instantly perfect and familiar.
After a few minutes I pull away for air and press my lips against his chest exposed by the V-neck of his shirt. “Why can’t I forget you?” I whisper more to myself than to him. “I don’t want to want you anymore.”
He threads his fingers through my hair, pushing it back from my face and tilting my head up to his. “Come back to my room with me.”
My thighs tighten around him, contradicting the words I’m going to say.
“I can’t do that.”
He moves his body against mine, and I can feel every inch of him—hard and hot and tantalizing—between my thighs. My body quivers and heats in response, wanting him closer, with nothing between us.
“We don’t have to do anything. Just let me hold you. I want to fall asleep with you like we used to. I’m so tired, Piper.”
Closing my eyes, I rest my cheek against his chest and listen to the soft thump of his heart. I can’t go with him. I have to go home to Lyric, and to Josh. Isn’t that where I belong now?
“I can’t, Blue.”
His muscular arms encircle me like a vice. “Don’t leave. I’m gonna fall apart without you tonight. I don’t want to be alone, and I don’t want you to be, either.”
“I have to go home to Lyric. This has been really hard on her, too.”
“I know.” He leans his head against mine. “I know it has. Can I come with you?”
My stomach jumps into my throat at the thought. “No. Blue, I—”
“You don’t have to tell her who I am. Tell her I’m an old friend.”
Lyric is definitely smart enough to know I wouldn’t be running into an old friend at the vet’s office and bringing him home with me.
“That’s not a good idea.”
He pulls away and stares down at me, his eyes transitioning to a darker, midnight velvet blue.
“You told me you bought a house. You don’t want me there, do you?” he asks. “Why?”
I chew the inside of my cheek, trying to find the right words, but there are none. “Josh is there with Lyric. He’s waiting for me.”
The corner of his mouth twitches. “Josh your roommate? You still live together?”
“No, we moved out of his house.”
His eyes narrow as understanding trickles in. “So something’s going on with him now?”
“I don’t know,” I say softly. “But there might be.”
His chest expands, and he backs away, turns in a circle and then looks back at me. “My fucking dog just died. He’s in a freezer right now, Piper. And you’re telling me you still want me, but there’s someone else? You’re letting him come between us?”
“He was my dog, too,” I remind him. “And you have no right to do this to me. I gave you so many chances, Blue. I gave you my heart a million times, and every single time you broke it. You always let me down. You let drugs and alcohol come between us and destroy your life. At least Josh is a person.”
He scoffs. “I’ve never let a person come between us. That’s way worse.”
My heart twists and sinks like an anchor. “You told me there’s never been anyone else.”
He whips out a Zippo lighter and snaps it open to light another cigarette. “I said that years ago.”
I jump down from the trunk of my car. “So, you’ve been with other women?”
That really shouldn’t surprise me at all. I couldn’t expect him to stay single and celibate forever, especially when I told him I never wanted to see him again. Of course he moved on, just as he should have. Just like I should have. I have no right to feel jealous or betrayed in any way at all.
But I do. Terribly so.
“I’m going home,” I say, not waiting for him to answer. “We’re both upset about losing Acorn and if we keep talking, we’re just going to hurt each other.”
With a hard stare, he takes a long drag on his cigarette. “Yeah. Apparently so.”
I walk around the car to the driver’s side door, and he talks to my back. “I’ve been clean for six months. Can’t you tell I’m better?”
When we talked on the phone the other day I could tell something was different, but I thought it was just the shock of me calling him and telling him about Acorn that had subdued him.
Standing in front of my door, I turn to him with my car keys in my hand. “I’m glad, Blue. But it doesn’t change anything else.”
His hair flies around his shoulders as he shakes his head. “You’re wrong, Piper. It changes everything.”
I unlock my door, listening to his boots on the pavement walking in the other direction. “We’re not over, Ladybug,” he calls over his shoulder.
I sit in my car for a long time, crying for the dog I’m not going home with and regretting how Blue and I are leaving things. Once again we’ve left each other in limbo, with no closure, no parting on good terms, no understanding of where we stand. I don’t know how to find any kind of peace with him and move forward.
Suddenly my car door is thrown open and I jump and yelp in surprise.
“Get out of the car.”
My chest heaves up and down with fear as I look up at him leaning one arm on the top of my car and the other on the top of my window.
I let out a breath of relief that it’s him and not a lunatic carjacking me.
“Please, Blue, just go away.”
“No. We’re not doing this again. This is the kind of shit that sends me straight into a bottle or makes me snort lines all night and I’m not doing it. I’m not waiting another two or three fucking years to talk to you again, either. Get out of the car or I’m coming in there. Your choice. And don’t forget how much I love car sex.”
“Blue—”
He grabs my arm and tugs me out of the car. I stare at him like he’s lost his mind. “Why are you acting like this?” I demand. “I have to go home.”