Page 74 of When the Walls Come Down
So, what would have stopped her if she’d thought I was a prick who couldn’t even bother to call?
“Sorry, buddy.”
I didn’t even order a drink. Instead, I turned on my heel and went home.
Just as I put my key into my door, I heard her full, boisterous laugh through the wall. A laugh that I’d hoped might have been just for me. Chris was right.
Maggie wasn’t having a bad night.
But I was.
Had it all been for nothing?With two cups of coffee in hand, I tiptoed over to the couch. He was on his stomach, his shirt off, arm hanging over the side, legs bent up into the air behind him. There was literally no way he was comfortable. I’d tried to give him the bed, but he’d refused, being a gentleman and all. I was sure he’d regret that decision when he woke up unable to walk.
I left his mug on the table and settled into the corner of the love seat, drawing my legs up underneath me. His eyes were still closed, but he wasn’t asleep. Knowing my brother, I figured he’d heard it when my lids had fluttered open.
My lips had just kissed the mouth of my mug when he grumbled, “I think you’re gonna have to roll me off this thing.”
I giggled like I was a kid again. “I warned you.”
“You didn’t warn me hard enough. Jesus, that was torture.” He groaned, flipping to his back. Gingerly, he sat up and ran a hand through the top of his thick, blond hair. “That mine?” he asked, motioning to the coffee on the table.
“Yeah. I’m out of milk though, so I made it black.”
“As long as you didn’t put that vanilla shit that you got Clare hooked on in it, I’ll survive.”
My chest warmed. “So, tell me. How long have you been tracking my phone?”
He didn’t even look sheepish as he lifted the cup of coffee to his mouth. “Since you were nineteen and I found a condom in your purse.”
“Heath!” I scolded, but then I started laughing. He’d done far worse to me growing up. I had no idea why I was shocked anymore.
When he’d surprised me by showing up at Two Ships the night before, I hadn’t been able to decide if I wanted to launch myself into his arms, burst into tears, or give him hell for not giving me a heads-up. I wasn’t sure if he’d been able to hear it in my voice over the past few weeks or what, but I needed this visit something fierce. We’d gotten a table at Two Ships and I’d introduced him to the magic that was a Blake Moore steak.
I won’t lie. I had occasionally (read: obsessively) glanced up at the door any time it opened. Shane never came through though, and as Heath and I walked home, he asked, “So, you want to tell me about the guy who stood you up or what?”
“Or what,” was my answer.
And for once in his crazy, overbearing life, Heath let it go.
We stayed up late that night, laughing and catching up. I told him about work. The other guy who was fighting to keep his job. And how I’d made friends with my neighbor.
He frowned a lot, knowing I was leaving out quite a few details. It was probably eating him alive not to ask a million questions, but somehow, he managed.
We’d only gotten a few hours of sleep, but since this visit was a stop-through on his way to LA for a business meeting, I wanted to maximize our time together. Funny how, less than two months ago, I’d been packing up my old apartment and trying to think of excuses to avoid family dinners at Heath’s.
He chuckled and set the coffee down long enough to drag on the T-shirt he’d shed at some point during the night. “So, what’s on the agenda for today?”
“There’s this little breakfast place a few blocks over that I’ve been dying to try. It’s stupid expensive, but I’m buying. However, if we’re not there by eight, the line is wrapped around the building.”
He looked at his watch and then back at me. “You gonna be ready in fifteen minutes? The state of that mop on your head is telling me no.”
I unfolded my legs and shot him a grin. “They make ponytail holders for a reason, jerk.”
“Yeah, but since I’ve never actually seen you leave the house in less than two hours, I’m thinking you’ve never figured out what that reason is.”
I rolled my eyes, secretly loving every single second of having him there, even—and especially—when he was giving me shit.
Thirteen minutes later, Heath was standing by my front door in a pair of khaki shorts, a white button-down with the sleeves rolled up, and a pair of low-profile New Balance shoes. “We’re gonna be late!”
