The sun beats down on my way to the car and it doesn’t provide any resolution, either. I don’t like a lack of resolution. I like answers. I like something I can win.
Just passed my car, I spy a familiar outline sitting on a bench in the park. My feet make an abrupt turn to her, drawn to her presence without bothering to confirm with the rest of my body.
“All the gin joints in Los Angeles, and here you are.”
“No gin.” Kate is a little stiff but not unfriendly. “What are you doing here?”
“My gym.” I hitch a thumb over my shoulder. “If I’m not at work or the bar, I’m usually here. What are you doing here?”
“My gym.” She mimics my thumb over her shoulder. “If I’m not at work or the bar… you get the idea.”
“You box?”
“Yoga.”
Makes a lot of sense. That woman is bendy as hell in the bedroom. I could turn her into a pretzel if I wanted and she’d still fuck like a queen.
She doesn’t look like royalty today. It’s more than the I-just-worked-out thing she has going. Her fire is dim and I don’t like it.
“You okay?” I keep a careful space between us on the bench, but I nudge her hand with mine. “You look like you need a friend.”
“No.” Kate hasn’t looked at me once since I came to sit. I want to take her by the cheeks and make her.
“Want to talk about it?”
“No.”
“You know, they say I’m a great listener.”
“Bullshit.” Her lips quirk upward at the ends. It’s a small victory. “You only like the sound of your own voice.”
“Guilty.” I move in just a touch closer and soften my voice. “Come on, Kate. Something is bothering you and I want to help. Talk to me.”
She cocks an eyebrow at me and the disbelief is heavy. It’s like the woman I bent over her couch has been replaced by someone scorned. It’s only then that I realize she’s probably got a lot on her plate and my dick isn’t helping much.
Tinges of guilt ping at me, reminders that she’s dealing with her livelihood while I was dragging her off to be fucked good and proper. Except it’s clear she has feelings and I’ve witnessed that makes shit more complicated. Normally, that’s exactly the response I want.
Not anymore. Not with her.
“Nobody cares about me.” Her voice is ice. “I’m just someone to be used. For money, connections, sex. No one gives a shit. You don’t give a shit. You’re just like everyone else.”
The weight behind that statement isn’t hidden. I want to argue, to tell her she’s wrong, but she’s not. I’ve spent weeks trying to pound her out of my brain but I’ve still fucked her. I’ve still used her for sex. For some unknown reason, it unsettles me.
“Let me take you to dinner.” I grab her hand and squeeze it. “Tonight.”
“What, like a date?” Kate scoffs.
“I mean, I can fuck you first if you want. But then yes, a date. A real date.”
She finally looks at me, those sad eyes probing me to see if I mean it. Surprises me just as much, but I do. I kiss her hand and watch the red touch her cheeks.
“Okay.” She finally breathes heavily. “I guess that would be okay.”
“Does this mean we’ll fuck first?”
“Is that how you usually date?”
I grin. “Yes. But for you, I’ll make an exception.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
KATE
“Okay, just trust me on this.”
Eric’s voice doesn’t do much to assure me as we zip through traffic in his tiny sports car. I am more than grateful I can’t see the undoubtedly narrow spaces he fits through. The blindfold over my eyes was funny at first, then nauseating, and I am now settled on life-saving.
“Trust you? That doesn’t sound very promising.” I clutch my stomach as we veer around another set of cars. “Where are we going? The moon?”
“Better.”
“What’s better than the moon?”
“Glendale.” I can practically see the cheeky grin on his face.
“Glendale? Seriously? What the hell is in Glendale besides hipsters?”
“Great fun awaits us in Glendale, Kate. You just need a little faith.” Eric slides his hand down my leg, spreading chills across my body in rapid succession, and grasps my hand. It’s surprisingly intimate and I’m glad he can’t see my full reaction right now.
Mostly because I don’t know how to feel.
He tells me about his grandfather as we go. The fish they’d catch, how he learned to fillet a trout for his seventh birthday, and how they would eat popcorn on the back porch at night while watching the sunset.
“That sounds beautiful.”
“It was.” Eric squeezes my hand and lets go, leaving me cold. “I spent whole summers just eating popcorn with the dude and plumping up the resident squirrels. End of the summer, they became target practice.”
“Oh my God!”
“Kidding.” Eric laughs. “Well, sort of. The neighbors really liked shooting BBs at the squirrels.”
“What about you?”
“I was too busy playing baseball.”
“I pictured you as more of a soccer player with that physique.”
“Oh, you’ve noticed?”
“A time or two, just a glance here and there. It’s very elusive.”
“Well, I’d hate to look like a braggart.” He squeezes my knee and my stomach flips again.
I’m not supposed to be here, but he’s treating me like I’m important. Everything is upside down, a modern version of Wonderland. Only I don’t want the little cake that will make me grow and finally escape like Alice. I want to stay here forever, in this weird little land, because it’s the only place I feel I fit.
The car comes to a stop and he kills the engine. Anticipation is killing me. Glendale is not what I would call the most thrilling place in Los Angeles, and definitely not where I expected him to take us.
“I’ll get your door.” Eric says. A few seconds later my door pops open and he leads me out of the car and in a few circles before finally removing my blindfold. “Surprise.”
Instead of
