No Tomorrow

Instead, he turns in the seat to face me. “Do you trust me, Piper?”

“Yes. As much as I can. I’ll admit it’s a little difficult sometimes because I don’t know where you are all day, or at night for that matter. We can’t call each other. You won’t meet my family. You don’t want to move in with me. You won’t commit to any sort of long-term relationship. You keep us in limbo. Always vague. So I guess it depends on what kind of trust. Do I think you’d purposely hurt me? No, I don’t.”

“I mean it when I say I love you. I don’t ever want to hurt you.”

“I know that. And I believe it.”

A small finch eating crumbs off the parking lot asphalt has caught his attention. Barely blinking, he watches the tiny bird with keen interest, and I wonder if it reminds him of his time with his aunt and her birds. Or maybe for him, it’s just a welcome distraction from this conversation.

“I get lost in my own head sometimes. The music, the words, sometimes they take over. Sometimes I can’t sleep for days, and I don’t eat. Then I get fucked up ‘cause I’m exhausted and hungry. I get headaches and I feel moody as shit, and it all fuckin’ dominos until I find a way to reset.” He tightens his fingers into mine. “I do better alone so I don’t drag people down with me. But now I’m kinda crazy about you, so I’m trying to make it work. I would’ve left as soon as it got cold out if I didn’t love being with you so much.”

Finally, he’s opening up, but the vagueness is still there like a thin blanket thrown over us. “I know you’re trying. We’re in this together, whether you’re in a good mood or a bad mood. I don’t need or want or expect perfect. I just want you.”

The bird has flown away, and his gaze shifts down to our hands. He nods slowly and then talks in a very low, almost whispered tone. “I guess I really don’t remember having a headache.”

This is one of those moments in life when I can dig deep for answers and force him to face his problems or I can sweep it under the rug, kiss it better, and hope it never creeps out again.

I choose to kiss it better.

“Sometimes I can’t remember what I did yesterday, either. Let’s go get something to eat. I promised our fuzzy boy a doughnut, and he’s been very patient.”

The smile on his face washes away all my earlier doubts and unease, and I silently vow to stop analyzing him. Lots of people forget things and go through moods, myself included.

We spend the day driving around listening to music and talk about an article Blue once read about paint colors that are supposed to evoke certain moods. I jot down the colors in a pocket notebook I keep in my purse so I can try to find them when Ditra and I buy paint for my new apartment, because the first thing I’m doing is painting over all the stark-white walls.

By the end of the day, I have swept away and forgotten the confusion and the elephant in the room.

Chapter Fourteen

The past two weeks have been some of the best of my life. I’m floating on a cloud, wearing a perpetual smile. Nothing can break through my wall of happy.

I’ve been in my apartment for three days, and it’s seriously an indescribable feeling. My very own place. Ditra and I hung scattered wooden shelves on one wall of my living room and then filled them with books that have been stored in my closet for years. We surrounded the books with cool bookends and heavy candles we found at the flea market. I painted the entire apartment in earth tones, mixed in cool blues and grays, and added a few random bright red throw pillows to add a splash of color. As silly as it sounds, when I come home from work at night I just wander around the small apartment, squealing over how cute it is. How mine it is. Even Archie seems happier, because he finally has lots of windows to sit in and gaze out of. What really won him over is the new carpeted cat tree I put in front of the window in the living room. Now he can stare at the birds and squirrels in the backyard all day long. In between naps, of course.

Tonight I’m silently squealing in my new apartment for an entirely new reason.

Blue is here. In my apartment. I almost fainted with shock and excitement earlier today at the park when he asked if he could meet me here tonight. I was sure he’d bail at the last minute, but he’s here right now with Acorn—and penguin—in tow, slowly walking around, reading the spines of my books and studying the photographs on my wall. He looks so ethereal here in my space, I feel like an angel came down from heaven to grace me with his presence. And Acorn seems to be having the same effect on Archie, who hasn’t hissed or run away once.

I’m filled with butterflies, and I’m hoping this could be the start of something really good. I guess Ditra was right, after all. Blue just needed to do this on his own terms.

“So this is you.” His deep voice is like thunder rumbling in the distance. Warning, yet seductive.

“This is me. Do you like it?”

Nodding, he crosses the room to sit with me on the couch. “I do. It’s cozy. Safe.”

“I picked the colors you told me about.”

“I noticed. The red is sexy.” His hand rests on my upper thigh, his fingers lightly squeezing. “Do you have a little red dress? Or a black one?”

My mind reels from the sudden shift in the conversation. “Yes, one of each, actually.” There was a time last year when Ditra was buying me ‘hook up’ clothes and dragging me to clubs in an attempt to pick up guys. She picked up many, I picked up none, and three of those dresses are currently in the back of my new closet.

“High heels?” he asks.

“I have a pair of four-inch heels I can barely walk in. Ditra picked them out and I wore them once and ended up taking them off and going barefoot all night bec—”

He interrupts my babbling, and moves his hand farther up my thigh until his fingers are brushing against my lips through my slacks. “Go put it on. The red dress and the shoes.”

“Okay... are we playing dress up?” I ask playfully.

His lips curve into a sexy, devilish grin. “I’ll wait here.”

I stand and smile suspiciously at him, my interest piqued. “Do you want something to drink or eat before I disappear for a few minutes?”

“Nope. Just you.”

My blood warms in my veins. “Okay. Just help yourself if you want anything.”

I disappear down the hallway to my bedroom to search for the shockingly short and sexy, low-cut red dress. I slip it on with nothing but a black silk thong underneath, and the material clings to my curves like a second skin. I breathe a sigh of relief when I find the four-inch stilettos in the back of my closet. Not sure why I didn’t toss these when I moved, but now I’m glad I didn’t. I finish the look off with red lipstick, a smudge of black eyeliner, mascara, and fluff up my hair with my hands as I walk back to join Blue. I’m doing my best to walk as sexily as I can in these ridiculous stilt-like shoes, but I almost skid and face plant when I turn into the living room.

The lights are off, and all the candles in the room are lit. I never actually light candles because I’m afraid Archie will catch his big fluffy tail on fire, but the room looks like a scene out of a movie with the flickering of flames and shadows. He stands when I enter the room, and he takes my hands in his and spreads our arms out.

“Oof,” he groans, dragging his gaze up and down my body. “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, Ladybug. I wish I could take your picture. I don’t trust my fucked-up brain to remember you like this forever.”

“You don’t have to remember me. I’ll always be here for you to look at.”

He moves his hands to my waist and he lowers his head to kiss my lips. “Time will tell,” he says, using one of his notorious cryptic replies. Still kissing me, he sways us back and forth in a sensual dance as he slides his hands from my waist to the backs of my thighs, then slowly inching the material of the dress up until his hands are cupping my ass.

“I’m proud of you,” he whispers. “You’re so... together. You don’t give up on what you want.”

“I try not to.” I tilt my head up to look at him and lift my hand to caress the back of his neck. “Do you, Evan? Do you give up?”

“Why you callin’ me Evan again?” he asks, brushing his lips across my cheek as he continues to sway us back and forth.

“Because it’s your name. And I think sometimes you need to hear your real name.”

His jaw muscles twitch. “You might be right.”

“So do you?” I urge gently. “Give up on what you want?”

“Maybe what I want gives up on me.”

Our lips meet again, and I pull away to give him a frustrated expression. “You love to talk in riddles, don’t you?”

“I prefer to think of it as lyrical.”

Before I can muster up a good comeback, he sweeps me up into his arms and carries me over to the couch, placing me down on my feet in front of it. When he sits, his face is level with the hem of my skirt. His smoldering eyes caress and undress me before his hands even touch me. Reaching between my legs, he hooks his finger under the thin strap of my thong and pulls it all the way down to my ankles. When I step out of it, he bunches my panties up in a small ball and shoves them into the front pocket of his jeans.