I check my messages and audibly gasp at the one word that seems to fill the screen, daring me to ignore it.
Marshmallow
Anger surges within me. How dare he use that word? What the hell does he want? Does he need me to rescue him yet again? I can’t believe his audacity.
But the worry kicks in, and the anger subsides. What if he’s in trouble? He’s with those jerk assholes he doesn’t really like and probably shouldn’t trust. What if they did something to him and he’s lying in a heap on the side of the road, bleeding to death?
God, my drama-filled brain is on overdrive tonight.
Furious at my concern, I hurriedly type in a response to him and hit send before I can second guess myself.
Where the hell are you?
He answers in seconds.
Gold Diggers.
Ugh! He’s asking me to rescue him from a strip club? I want to kill him.
Like I’m driving all the way out there. I don’t even have a car.
Seconds later, he responds again.
I left my truck at the restaurant.
Frowning, I study the words he just sent me. I can’t do this. I shouldn’t. Rescuing him gives me hope and I should feel hopeless when it comes to Drew. He’s not worth all the heartache and drama.
Is he?
No key though, I finally type, feeling sorta cheery. How can I drive his truck with no key?
“You need a ride?”
I glance up to find Colin standing in front of me, his handsome face filled with concern. My phone beeps and I read Drew’s message, a detailed description as to the exact location where the spare key is hidden on his truck.
Tempting me more and more to go rescue him, no matter how stupid I know the idea is.
“Fable?”
“Yeah, um, thanks for the ride, but I don’t need one.” I smile, realizing I need Colin to leave before I do if I don’t want him to see me drive off in Drew’s truck.
Not that he’d know it was Drew’s truck but Colin is a smart guy. He can put two and two together real easy.
“Are you sure?” He reaches out and touches me, his fingers drifting across my arm, and I don’t react. I might’ve yesterday. Hell, I might’ve about four hours ago, before Drew walked back into my life so easily, but now, there’s nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
Nodding, I offer him a bigger smile. “Really. I have a ride. But I appreciate the offer.”
“All right. Jen’s catching a ride home with me so we’ll both see you tomorrow?”
My first Sunday working at the restaurant, my shift starts in the midafternoon and I’ll get off at a decent time, too, since I’m only scheduled for four hours. I’m sort of excited about it. Owen and I already have plans. Either breakfast, if I can get his lazy ass out of bed, or a late dinner after I get off work. Maybe even a movie if we’re feeling ambitious.
I feel like treating my brother to something special. He deserves it. I haven’t been around much and neither has Mom. He’s drifting and I need to reconnect with him badly. No fourteen-year-old should drift, especially my own brother.
“See you tomorrow,” I say as I watch Colin leave with Jen by his side. I wonder if they’re a couple. And if they are, why he would flirt with me. Why would he flirt with anyone? I don’t understand the dynamics there.
I don’t understand the dynamics between Drew and me either, so who am I to judge?
* * * *
I pull into the parking lot of Gold Diggers fifteen minutes later, driving around to the side of the building, where I find Drew leaning against the wall. His upper body is slouched forward, his hands nestled deep in his jeans pockets, and his head is bent. It’s like he didn’t even hear the truck pull up.
Rolling down the passenger side window, I whistle low and he glances up, his gaze meeting mine.
“Need a ride?” I ask, trying my best to keep my voice even, but I hear the slight waver. Did he?
I hope not.
Pushing away from the building, he saunters over to the truck and leans in through the open window, his arms propped on the ledge. “So you found the key.”
“I told you did.” I texted him when I left work that I was on my way. Did he already forget or what?
Sniffing the air, I catch the distinct scent of beer. He’s been drinking. And he’s always more of a handful when he’s been drinking. Not necessarily in a bad way, though. Not like the guys my mom always ends up dating. Those types were mean and sometimes used their hands to get their point across.
“Thanks for coming to get me.” He pushes away from the truck and pulls on the handle, opening the door so he can climb inside. Settling into the passenger seat, he rolls up the window, pulls the seatbelt on and clicks it into place, then leans against the seat, his eyes closing. “I appreciate it.”
That’s it? That’s all I get? No oh my God, you’re my hero, Fable or profusions of undying love? Not that I expected the last one but holy hell, we go from not talking or seeing each other for over two months, to all sorts of interaction with each other in the span of a few hours.
I don’t know if I can take this, especially when he’s acting like our reunion is no big deal.
“Need directions to my place?” he asks when I pull out of the parking lot.
“Um, I thought I could go straight to my house.” I don’t want to take him to his place. Then how would I get home?
“I can’t drive. I’m all sorts of f**ked up.”
In more ways than one, I want to tell him but keep my lips shut. “So what? If I take you home, who’s going to take me home?”
“Call your boyfriend.” He shrugs, but the venom in his words is clear.
“My boyfriend?” I stop at a red light and turn to look at him. His eyes are open and he’s watching me, his expression wary. “Who are you talking about?”
“The guy who interrupted us earlier. Your f**king boss, Fable. Or should I say the boss you’re f**king?”
Oh. My. God. Where the hell did he get that idea? “I should pull over right now and dump you on the side of the road.”
“Go for it. I’ll call the cops and say you stole my truck.”
Who is this guy? I give him my best, meanest stare, the one that scares the crap out of Owen every time I use it on him. “You wouldn’t dare.”
He glares at me right back. “Try me.”
The light turns green and I gun the engine, my foot pressing the gas pedal so hard we both lurch forward in our seat. The truck takes off quickly, the tires squealing against the asphalt, making me wince. Drew’s muttering curses under his breath but I don’t care. I ignore him, let the power of the truck’s engine propel me down the road, erasing my thoughts until all I feel is the speed.
But I can’t control my mind, no matter how much I want to. It’s awhirl with questions. Why did he think Colin and I were together? Why would Drew text me to come get him if he thought that was the case? Why was he at the strip club? Did he have his hands all over a stripper? I swear I can smell cheap perfume lingering on his clothes. The idea that he was with another girl, had his hands on some stupid stripper, even momentarily, fills me with so much rage, my foot presses on the gas pedal even harder.
“Are you trying to get us into a wreck?”
His quiet voice pierces my thoughts, reminding me I’m driving like a reckless jackass, and I ease up on the gas, evening out to a more moderate speed. “Sorry,” I murmur, embarrassed that I’m acting the fool.
My usual mode of operation when I’m in Drew’s presence.
We’re silent the rest of the drive, with the exception of Drew telling me where to turn to get to his apartment. The neighborhoods gets nicer and nicer the farther and farther I drive. I’m filled with jealousy as I take in the trees that line the street, the perfectly manicured lawns with bright bursts of colorful flowers, even in the middle of winter. Landscapers maintain all of the lawns on this side of town and they are utter perfection.
Unlike the grass and yards in my neighborhood, which are uneven and brown in spots. No pretty flowers in sight where I live. We mostly have overgrown shrubs at my apartment complex. They hide all the flaws well.
“Nice place,” I say once I pull into the parking spot he directs me to. It’s covered, of course. And the complex is gated, keeping the riffraff out. Like me. I’m considered riffraff, I’m sure.
“Do you need to call your boyfriend to pick you up?” he asks, his voice low. Downright menacing.
I shut off the engine and turn to him, hoping my expression is as incredulous as I feel. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”
He raises his brows. “So the guy who basically told me to take a hike isn’t your boyfriend.”
“He’s not. He’s my boss. That’s it.” I slowly shake my head, pissed that I even have to explain myself.
“Why would he say he was with you last night, then?”
I’m gaping. I can’t believe what Drew just said. “What?”
“That’s what he told me. He asked who I was and I told him I was your…boyfriend. Then he laughed and said something like, where the hell was I since he was with you last night.” Drew’s mouth tightened into a flat, thin line. “Were you with him?”
God, I was. It sounds so bad, too. I don’t want to admit the truth but I can’t lie to Drew. There shouldn’t be any more lies between us. Honesty needs to be our only policy. “Yes,” I admit, my voice small. I don’t want to tell him Colin took me to a salon and paid for my makeover, a makeover Drew doesn’t even seem to notice.
He looks away from me, blowing out a harsh breath. His jaw is tight, I see a slight tic in it and I know he’s beyond pissed. “Just admit it, Fable. You’ve moved on. I can’t blame you. I f**ked this all up by not responding to you. I asked for this.”
“Asked for what? I’m not with my boss, not in the way you think. We’re definitely not together.”
He looks at me again. “You’re not?”
“No,” I say, slowly shaking my head. “We’re not. He’s my boss. I wouldn’t screw around with my boss.”
Drew says nothing, but his silence fills up the truck’s cab just the same as an endless stream of words would.
“Listen, you left me, remember? I’m finally getting on with my life, moving on from you, and then you go and text me that stupid, stupid code word. You have a lot of nerve, you know. I don’t know why I bothered coming out here to rescue you. Accusing me of being with someone else like a complete jealous jerk.” I need to call him out on his shit so I can get to the truth. I need the truth. I’ve been in limbo waiting for him and hating him, loving him, wanting to kill him, wanting to save him, for way too long.
I’m done. He either needs to come clean with me and we can get to the bottom of this, or we’ll continue swimming in an endless circle that will both drive me crazy and exhilarate me, all at once.
“I didn’t know what to think,” he finally says. “What he said put thoughts in my head and f**ked around with…everything.”
“You have no right to accuse me of this crap.” I take a deep breath. Drew may have jumped to conclusions, but I’m starting to think Colin didn’t help matters by implying that something’s going on between us. Which it’s so not. “Who are you going to believe? Some guy you don’t know or me?”
He lifts his lids, his gaze meeting mine. His eyes are bright, even in the dim light of the truck, and I wish I could lean into him. Touch him. Kiss him.
“You,” he whispers. “I’m going to believe you.”
Chapter Seven
Do magic. Enter her heart without touching her. – Unknown
Fable
I’m taken aback by Drew’s admission and all I can do is sit here and stare at him. I don’t know what to say, how to react, nothing. I think I’m still in shock that we’re sitting in his truck, together. Alone. Like the past two months haven’t happened and we’re right back where we started.
But I know all of his secrets. Well, most of them. And they’re horrible. He knows a few of mine, not that I have many. I was an open book for him from the start. My few remaining secrets aren’t as life altering as his. My mom is a drunken, no-job-having loser. My dad has never made contact with me my entire life. Drew already knows those facts about me.
Oh, and my brother is skipping class and smoking pot and there’s not much I can do about it. Drew doesn’t know much about Owen. Or about my own insecurities and fears, how they keep me trapped here in this going-nowhere life. How I feel like I have to take care of my little brother all the time because our mom sure as hell isn’t doing it.
The only thing I can completely control is me and my reaction to my life. At this very moment, I can control only my reaction to Drew. So I sit here and wait. Wait for him to say something first, because I’m not speaking until he does. It’s his turn to make the next move.
Despite the warning bells clanging in my head, I want him to make that first move.
“Fable, I…” He pauses and swallows hard. “I’m not sober enough to drive you home.”
Disappointment courses through me. There went the first move. “I’ll call a cab.” Like I can afford it, but what the hell else am I supposed to do?
“No.” He shakes his head. “I want you to stay with me. Tonight.”
Everything inside me screams to run far, far away. There’s also a tiny part of me that says I should stay. Crash out on his couch and wake up the next morning refreshed after spending the night in the same house with the one I love. We won’t do anything. Maybe we’ll talk. Maybe I’ll get him to confess why he asked me to rescue him with that beautiful, tragic note, then refused to answer my texts or voice mails.