And when it did…
“Hey, love, are you okay?” he asked.
I jumped. “Fine.” My eyes moved away from his. “I submitted my story to Bel. The lady who runs that blog.”
“A story about me?”
“About your artwork. About that night. That’s it. She wasn’t exactly happy, but it was something.”
“Are you going to keep writing for her?” Josh asked.
My eyes met his again.
Do you want to hear about the letter I found? About how I’m so obsessed with the letter? And there’s this girl or woman named Delilah that I can’t stop thinking about…
“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” I said. “I don’t care.”
“What do you mean you don’t care?”
I shook my head. “Nothing, Josh. It’s…”
“It’s what?”
“Nothing,” I said.
I turned and walked away.
I should have known better.
Josh’s hands touched my waist and he spun me around. I stumbled back and bumped into the kitchen table, realizing there was nowhere left for me to go. Now, I could swing my hand, slap Josh across the face and run to my room, but I was frozen.
By his presence.
By his stare.
His hands touching my waist.
His body inching closer to mine.
I was captivated and hypnotized in a way that no other guy had ever come close to doing to me.
“Why don’t you want to write anymore?” he whispered.
“I gave you my story,” I whispered back. “Now it’s your turn. Then we can go back to me.”
“Maybe we can go back to you right now,” he said. “No words though. I’ll get a different kind of story from you.”
My lips trembled as he lowered his mouth down to mine.
As my eyes shut, I saw images flash of him carrying me to my bedroom.
Within that, all the things that were right and wrong with it collided.
Just like his lips and mine.
But the kiss - and everything else - was short-lived as the apartment door opened.
I hated having a roommate.
Grace charged through the apartment, completely disregarding the fact that I was against the table with Josh so close to me. It was obvious what was happening and no, he wasn’t checking my eye for an eyelash or something stupid like that.
When I saw Grace was crying, I put my hands to Josh’s chest and pushed.
He moved away and Grace finally stopped.
She straddled the threshold of the small kitchen and the small dining room.
“Nobody can see me like this,” she said as she stared down the hall. “In this moment of true weakness.”
“Grace, are you okay?” I asked.
“No. I’m not.”
I looked at Josh and I gritted my teeth.
He slowly nodded. He showed his hands and backed away.
I reached for him, wanting a proper goodbye.
Without a word, he took his cellphone out of his pocket and waved it at me.
I nodded to him.
A silent conversation.
And something about that was sexy as hell.
He snuck out of the apartment as Grace stood in the same spot, weeping.
And I mean weeping… like a bad actress in a bad play. Putting the back of her right hand to her mouth and whining in an almost fake way.
“Grace…”
“Who was that?” she asked.
“That guy? That was Josh.”
Her head turned and looked at me. “The one you wrote about?”
“Yes.”
“He was here? About what you wrote?”
I licked my lips. I tasted Josh. “Sort of.”
“What a terrible day.”
“What’s wrong, Grace?”
“I lost Ginger,” she said. She shut her eyes and started to weep again.
“Ginger…?”
Her eyes shot open. “My cat. Okay, Amelia? I lost my fucking cat!”
She ran down the hall to her bedroom.
I rubbed my forehead, trying to figure out what just happened. I came home to find Josh talking with Miss Laura. I blinked my eyes and Josh was pinning me against a table, kissing me, making everything feel okay. I blinked again and Grace was home, crying.
I thought it was something serious.
It was something about a cat.
I moved into the kitchen and filled the silver tea kettle with water.
Pulling a card out of my mother’s playbook, I made two cups of tea. Except this tea wasn’t going to taste dirty and the milk wasn’t going to be expired.
I kept looking over my shoulder, wondering where Josh had gone.
He came to tell me his story. Or some of his story.
What I’ve always wanted to know about him. Nothing to do with Bel and all that stuff. Just me and Josh. Just me figuring out about the boy who used to save me and what kind of man he was now.
Except now he was gone again. And I was carrying two cups of tea down the hallway.
I opened Grace’s door to find her sitting on the corner of her bed, staring down at the floor.
“Hey,” I said. “Brought you some tea.”
“Tea?”
“My mother used to make tea when I was upset. Well, when she was upset. I don’t know if it actually does anything or not.”
Grace grinned. “You’re a good person. I’m sorry I chased away your friend.”
“You didn’t,” I said. Lie. “We were just talking.” Lie.
“Ginger is gone.”
“You went to get a cat?” I asked, trying to sound sympathetic.
“I finally did it, Amelia. Thinking about what we talked about. I figured why not. Get the cat and figure out the rest later.”
I thought about what the apartment would have been like with a cat. And a litter box. The smells. Bad enough the apartment building itself had its own smell.
“What happened?” I asked.
“I went there and saw her. She was perfect. Beautiful. I know, I sound crazy. I mean, look at me. I coach people in life. Through their worst times. Through their best times. And I’m basically a crazy cat person.”
“Not at all,” I said.
“I left,” she
