The Street Where She Lives

“But…you don’t even know me.”

“Don’t tell me you believe in lust at first sight, but not love?”

“Love.” The word choked her, she had no experience with it, none at all. “You’re insane, you know that?”

With another gentle, tender touch that made those burning tears spring to her eyes, he lifted her chin. “Tell me you don’t feel it, Melanie. That you haven’t felt it since that night.”

“That night we both agreed what we’d done was stupid.”

“I never thought anything of the sort. Never,” he added firmly when she bit her lower lip. “I only wished we’d waited until you’d been ready for what really happened between us that night.”

“Which was?”

“The emotional connection. Look me in the eyes and tell me, and I’ll believe you.”

“I…” His eyes were deep, intense…and sincere. Oh, God, he meant it. And because he did, she couldn’t muster up a bravado smile or a lie, not to save her sorry soul.

“Say it. Say the word and I’ll walk away.”

“I…can’t,” she whispered, shocked.

He rewarded her by lowering his mouth to hers in a kiss that didn’t involve instant ravaging. No tongue, no teeth, no dirty words. Just firm, warm lips with so much emotion behind it, she found herself clinging.

And then he pulled away. “I only ask one thing,” he said a little huskily. “But it’s a deal-breaker if you can’t give it.”

Dazed, she looked up at him. Didn’t he know she’d give him anything? It shocked her to the very core, but it was the truth.

“I trust you. But in return, Melanie, you have to trust me implicitly.”

“What does trust have to do with anything?”

He smiled, and the sadness in it surprised her. “Everything. Take, for instance, the way you do everything in your power to make sure Ben and Rachel don’t get back together, even though you know in your heart that’s where they belong.”

“Wait a minute. I don’t-”

“Don’t you? Come on, Melanie. You must know in your heart they belong together, and yet you can’t quite handle the thought of Rachel being happy before you.”

“No, I-”

“You’ve purposely sabotaged her happiness because you’re not happy.”

My God, that was insane. She wouldn’t do that to her sister, she-

She’d done that to her sister.

Staggering back, she sat on the front step, ignoring the silk of her dress and how she couldn’t afford to replace it. “My God. I’m a bitch.”

“No.” Hunkering down before her, he took her hand in his. “You’re passionate and willful and a free spirit. I trust you to fix this. So, I guess the question is, do you trust me in return? To be there for you?”

In her book, trust was a dirtier word than love, and finding her pride, she yanked her hand free. “You’re right, that’s a deal-breaker.” She stood up. Her heart cried out at the prospect of walking away, but that’s what she was doing.

She’d hauled open the front door of Rachel’s house when he spoke again, his voice low and hoarse with regret. “Goodbye, Melanie.”

She opened her mouth, but her goodbye wouldn’t come. So she simply let herself inside and shut the door.

Then leaned against it and took a deep, shaky breath. A very small part of her feared she’d just ruined the best thing that might have ever happened to her.

The bigger part of her said screw the big jerk. She stormed the stairs and found Rachel in her studio. “Am I selfish?” she demanded.

“Well, hello to you, too,” Rachel said.

“Yeah, yeah, hello. Hugs and kisses.” Melanie put her hands on her hips and studied her sister critically. She wore nothing over her head today, and the soft fuzz had indeed grown into hair, albeit short, short hair. But somehow the way it fell against her face suited her. So did the peach lip gloss, which happened to be the only makeup she had on. Though she was still too thin, the cutoff jeans and tank top emphasized her small frame and the few curves she had. Rachel was, Melanie had to admit, still beautiful. “So am I? Selfish?”

Rachel studied her for a long moment. “You can be,” she said honestly.

Yeah. Damn it. She’d known it. “Did you do Ben yet?”

Rachel blinked. “I thought you wanted me to do Adam.”

Melanie stalked the rest of the way into the studio, a little put out to realize how right Garrett had been. She’d always thrived off Rachel needing her-her and no one else. With Ben around, and Rachel glowing…she’d indeed felt threatened.

God, she hated that about herself. “Okay, look. The truth is, the sexual tension between you and Ben is hot enough to boil water, so maybe you should get it over with.”

Rachel put down her pencil. “What are you up to?”

It was automatic to deny, and she opened her mouth to do just that, but then shut it and sighed. “Oh, Rach. I’ve screwed up good this time.”

“Oh, honey, I’m sorry.” Rachel immediately came toward her, arms out, offering a hug. “What’s happened? It’s Monday. Shouldn’t you be at work?”

Melanie soaked up the affection she didn’t deserve, then pulled back. “Forget that for now. I have to tell you something. And I don’t really have a gentle way to say it.”

“You don’t have a gentle bone in your body. Why start now? Just spill whatever it is. You’ll feel better.”

She doubted that. “Well… I lost my job.”

“Oh, Mel.”

She lifted her hands, shook her head. “Wait. No. That’s not what I meant to say. For once, this is about you, not me.” She dragged in a deep breath. “Okay, here goes. I discouraged you from Ben because I didn’t want you to be happy.”

Rachel blinked. “What?”

“I mean, I wanted you to be happy, which is why I was into the whole Adam thing, but to be really, really, really happy you need Ben, and I discouraged that because I didn’t want you to be really, really, really happy until I was.”

Rachel let out a little laugh. “I thought you gave up smoking dope.”

“I did. Damn it, I haven’t been smoking. And I mean it. I encouraged the wrong man, Rach, and I’m trying like hell here to fix that. Ben floats your boat, feeds your soul, is your other half, however you want to say it, and we both know it.”

Rachel stared at her for a long beat, then turned away. “Yeah. Well, it’s too late. He’s leaving. Tomorrow, in fact.”

“And you’re going to let him?”

“Let him?” Rachel laughed again, though there was no mirth in the sound. “Melanie, no one stops that man when he’s got an idea in his head.”

“You could.”

“And have him regret it? No way. He was meant to go.”

“And you’re just going to watch him do it. Again.”

“That’s right.”

Melanie nodded. Fine. She’d done what she could. Anymore and she’d have to be a saint. There was no doubt she was not a saint.

Goodbye, Ben.

Goodbye, Garrett.

She grabbed her purse. Yes, it was early, but this was South Village. She could shop till she dropped around the clock, and she needed that desperately now.

Thank God for credit cards…

BEN HAD GOTTEN UP early to take his last photos of the people in South Village. Midmorning, he stepped back