“See? I haven’t even touched you properly, and you’re already half-religious.”
I’d been so happy at that moment, which only reminded me how unhappy I was now when my face heated and Nat’s smile widened.
“Holy hell, Indie! You’re sleeping with a rock star. My inner slut is cheering for you. Or should I say my former slut? I think I’m still her. I’m just reining in on that shit since I’m married and have a kid and all.”
Another arrow of sorrow shot to my heart. Nat deserved so much more than Craig was giving her. Had she brought the subject up a few hours ago, I might have felt braver. Safer. Like it didn’t matter at all that Alex was looking forward to Paris so he could pursue his former flame.
“It’s not like that.” I pulled a lock of my blue hair and fingered the ends, my eyes concentrating hard on them instead of on my sister-in-law.
“What’s it like then?” I heard her grin.
“It’s really casual. He’s still in love with his ex.”
“And that bothers you?”
“Of course not.”
“So, why the long face?”
Because I’m a liar, just like him.
“I should probably end it,” I said aloud, making the idea real and scary. Not that I was in love with him, or even needed him. But he was the one thing in my life that made me feel good, and the list of things that made me feel that way wasn’t very long.
“Maybe you should, but you definitely won’t,” Nat said, and I looked up to see her expression, which turned from amused to worried. “Remember, Indie. Three months. Enjoy what’s there, and leave it at that.”
Easier said than done. I changed the subject, and we ended up talking about other things. About Clara from Thrifty, who had been calling Nat and asking about me. Then about Ziggy’s new obsession with pulling his pants down, which Natasha was very happy about, because she thought it’d meant he was ready to be potty trained.
After that, I ordered room service. Philly cheesesteak and fries. Not exactly authentic Spanish cuisine, but I was desperate to feel like I was back on US soil, even for a little while. I was drawing figures on the plate with a French fry and ketchup when he pounded on my door. I didn’t need to open it to know who it was. Alex was always minutes away from crashing the door down with his force. I ignored the knocks for the first ten minutes, but after that knew I was entering a dangerous territory. If he was drunk or drugged up—two ideas that weren’t farfetched, seeing as he’d disappeared for hours on his own—I needed to deal with that. No matter how hurt I’d felt, this was still a job, and one that paid well. Well enough, in fact, to get Ziggy the tubes he needed in his ears. He had a consultation appointment next week. Plus, I wanted to put Craig in rehab and get Nat’s car running so she didn’t have to take three buses on her way to her temporary job. That meant that no matter how foolishly angry I’d felt about Alex being devastated about Fallon’s engagement, I had to swallow my pride. But that didn’t mean I’d humor him anymore when it came to us.
I walked to the door and swung it open. He stood in front of me, his white V-neck crumpled and wrinkled, his black skinny jeans and impossible height both familiar and imposing. He smelled of cigarettes and the fresh bite of the cool evening air. He looked sober, and miserable, and extremely huggable. I folded my arms over my chest to keep myself from reaching toward him, staring up into his amber eyes with the green and gold flakes that swam in circles, like a gold pond.
I’m so happy I didn’t sleep with you. If I had, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from giving you everything you came here for tonight .
“Can I come in?” His eyes looked wrecked. Bloodshot.
I should say no. I knew he’d pour his heart out, and once he did, I wouldn’t deny him of anything in this world. He made me weak and exposed, and that alone should make me run for the hills. I stood there wordlessly, not quite ready to say no, but not stupid enough to say yes.
“Please.” He saw the hesitation on my face, but his voice was hard and coarse. Leave it to Alex Winslow to ask for something nicely one time in his life and still make it sound like a demand. “I need to talk.”
“Talk to someone else. You have plenty of friends.”
He snorted, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. From that angle, I could see the dark circles under his eyes. “Some friends they are.”
“Not my problem,” I said quietly, hating myself for every word. He’d been cruel to me, but that didn’t mean I had to be cruel back. There’s strength in choosing kindness even when you’re being dragged into the well of malice. I’d never been this way, and yet, I couldn’t stop myself. I was angry. Angrier than sympathetic. He knitted his brows and stared me down. I watched as his eyes turned in slow-motion from exasperated and sad to dark and interested.
“The fuck happened to you?”
“You happened to me. Unfortunately.” I was about to shut the door—he was sober, my job was done—but he slipped his arm through the crack and stopped me.
I was about to slam it anyway when he said, “I’d reconsider if I were you. This arm is insured for twenty million dollars. If I can’t play my guitar, a lot of people will be upset. All of those people you don’t want to piss off.”
Feeling lava bubbling in my chest, I kept the crack open, painfully aware of how his finger brushed the strap of my dress up my shoulder.
“Why are you mad?” His thumb rode up to my neck, to my pulse that quickened by the nanosecond. The change in mood confused me, and that’s exactly how he liked me.
“I’m not mad.” A chuckle died in my throat.
He pushed the door open all the way and sauntered in like he owned the place, doing his usual inspection. Alex liked to look and examine everything, like I was hiding dozens of dead bodies in my room.
“You are. You’re looking at me like I ran over your pet cockatoo.”
“I don’t have a pet cockatoo.”
“Yeah. Don’t. They’re a lot of work. Fallon had one.”
Fallon. Her name on his lips sounded like a profanity.
“I just don’t see why you’d even come here. You’re upset about Will and Fallon’s engagement. You should be dealing with it either by talking to them or with someone who can help you. I definitely can’t.”