Crushed (Crystal Brook Billionaires) (58 page)

Burrowing down into my sheets, I stare out the window. There’s nothing to see but the apartment building across the street, but the presence of the open space is comforting nonetheless. The bottom window is cracked and a car zooms by on the street, bass thumping from its speakers.

Scenes from the past week swirl around me. I take a deep breath and let it out slow, trying to release all the thoughts from my mind, trying to send them out through the cracked window and away from me, far off into the sky and space.

But I’m still thinking of the way Eryk yelled at Crystal in the living room. He’s hardly ever lost his temper to such a degree, and never with Crystal, who’s one of the calmest and most understanding people I know.

My worries turn to
The Dawn Companion
set. I’m afraid I showed my inexperience today when I forgot to turn in the tax paperwork to the second employee from the casting office. Henry had to remind me right before we left.

You’re still doing good,
I tell myself.
And making friends.

The thought of friends causes a little pang in my chest. As exciting as my new job is, I miss Dana — and even Chuck and Daniel — which is unexpected.

Most of all I miss the person I won’t let myself feel anything for.

Throwing the sheets off, I grab my cell phone, pull up Dana’s number, and write a text.

How is it going with the temp?

I stare at the little paper birds hanging in the corner of the room while I wait to see if she responds. In a few minutes, a text pops up.

Gone through three already.

I laugh out loud and quickly type back.

Does that mean Mulroney came back early?

She responds right away.

He came back today. Acting really weird.

I stare down at the text. Of course he was acting weird. What else is new? I resist the urge to ask her what she means by “weird.” I didn’t text Dana to start a conversation about Simon. On the contrary, I was genuinely interested to find out what’s been happening at the office.

She texts again.
He’s not happy that you left.

I suck in a sharp breath.

Too bad.

I drop the phone down on the bedside table. A couple minutes go by and she doesn’t respond. Rolling over and nestling my hands underneath my chin, I clamp my lips tight and will the tears to stay behind my eyes.

I tell myself not to think about him. But of course, I can’t help it.

What is he doing right now? It seems odd that there’s still so much I don’t know about his life, like where he lives and how he spends his weekends.

I sigh and roll over to lay flat on my back. It’s best that I don’t know those things. Simon — Mr. Mulroney — is in the past.

And that’s where he needs to stay.

Still, I can’t help but beat myself up for having gotten in such a mess with him in the first place. I close my eyes, and a hot, solitary tear slips out and rolls down my jaw, past the place where his lips pressed against my throat.

Forget about it. Forget about him.

And eventually, I partially do — though only because I’m falling asleep.

A
knocking noise wakes me up. I grab my second pillow and jam it over my head in an effort to block the sound.

“Sydney,” comes Crystal’s voice. My door cracks open. “When do you need to leave to get Brendan?”

“Ugh.”

“It’s seven.”

I groan. “His flight’s not till nine.”

“Nine?
Sydney, you have to go.”

I yawn into the nice, cool sheets. “It’s LAX.”

“Yeah, and he’s in Venice Beach, and you’re in Hollywood.” She yanks the sheet off me, and suddenly I get what she’s saying. I’m late. Damn, I’m late.

“Shit,” I gasp, scrambling out of bed.

“Does he have bags to check?”

“Probably.” I rub my eyes as I hurry out of the room and down the hall. She follows behind me.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“No, it’s okay. I just need to get my stuff.” I bump into the corner of the wall. “Shoes. Bag.”

I grab the two listed things. My mind is still foggy and it’s hard to think straight. I sit down on the couch for a second. “What else?”

“Phone,” Crystal says. “Keys. Socks.” She throws a pair of the last essential at me.

“Thanks.” I quickly pull the socks on.

“Aren’t you going to get dressed?”

I look down. Flannel pajama pants and a black tank top.

“Can you see my boobs through this?”

Crystal peers at my chest. “Not really. I mean, just the slight outline of your nipples.”

I yank on my Converses. “Then nope. No time.”

Snatching my keys, I fly for the door.

“Text me when you get there!” she calls after me. “So I know you didn’t crash and die!”

“Okay!” I yell over my shoulder, yanking the door shut.

I make it to Venice Beach in half the time. Really, I’m damn impressed with myself. I call Brendan on the way, but he doesn’t answer.

“Shit,” I curse, turning onto his cousin’s street.

He’s outside standing by his suitcases. I stop in the street and he hurries over, rolling the bags behind him. I reach over and throw the door open, trying to buy us a couple pathetic seconds. He puts the bags in the back seat and then comes to climb in the front.

“Sorry,” I say as he closes his door and buckles up. “I’m sorry. I tried to call, but you didn’t answer.”

“I think we have time.”

I grimace and hit the gas. “Feel free to kick me if you miss your flight.”

Brendan chuckles. “I’m glad you’re taking me. Hey…what are you wearing?”

“Ugh. What I woke up in.”

He laughs even harder.

I nervously change lanes, trying to get in the best flow possible. Traffic is surprisingly light, and it looks like Brendan might have a fighting chance after all.

“I can’t wait to get home,” he sighs.

I glance at him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

My heart lurches, and for a second it feels like breaking up all over again — like I’m losing him forever. Except we never really had a chance at a second go. That was all just hopeful thinking, just like everything in my life this past month.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said,” I say. “About me asking a lot of people.”

He scratches his head and looks out the window. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

“You didn’t. It was good.” My hands relax on the steering wheel as I let the confession out. “I realize that I haven’t changed much in the last couple years. I’m not very good at just letting people be what they are.”

I stare at the car in front of me, but can feel his eyes studying my face.

“You mean with everyone?” he asks.

I shift in the seat. “Mostly with men.”

“Like boyfriends.”

“Yeah.”

There’s a short pause. “So you have been seeing someone.”

“What makes you ask that?”

I feel him studying me. He guffaws. “Come on, Sydney…”

I bite my lip and glance at him. “Okay. Kind of. But not really. And it’s over now.”

He sighs. “I’m not mad. Hell, I don’t have any right to
be
mad… it’s him, isn’t it?”

“Eryk?” I joke, trying desperately to make light of the intense moment.

Surprisingly, Brendan chuckles. “I knew that drag thing was a cover up.”

“Yeah, he’s secretly straight. Has been for years.”

Brendan laughs and some of the tension leaves my shoulders.

“I wonder,” I say softly, “if things wouldn’t have turned out better with people if I’d just relaxed some. Being long distance with you drove me crazy. I wanted everything to be perfect. I wanted you here, being my short distance boyfriend.”

“Things are never perfect.”

I wipe a speck of dust off the dash. “I keep trying to make them that way.”

He laughs again. “Yeah, you do, but that’s one of the great things about you.”

I scrunch my nose up and twist the steering wheel between my fingers. “Really?”

He reaches out a hand and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, but it’s not a romantic gesture. Instead, it’s tender in an almost parental way. I smile at him and he grins back.

At the airport, I pull up to the check-in gates. He gives me a quick hug and I breathe it in, knowing there’s no guarantee we’ll run into each other again soon.

“Bye, Sydney,” he whispers into my hair.

I squeeze him tighter. “Bye. Sorry if I made you late.”

“Just getting to see you this morning would make it worth it.”

He lets go and climbs out, and I watch as he pulls out his suitcases and disappears through the glass doors. A car honks somewhere behind me in the congested mess of cars, and I put my attention back on getting home.

I spend half the ride yawning into my hand. Visions of coffee pots and TV remotes dance in front of my eyes.

“Just a little longer,” I murmur to myself.

My phone rings and I try to reach for it, but my bag is all the way in the backseat. Frustrated, I give up. I can only hope it’s not Brendan calling to ask me to pick him up because he missed his flight.

After pulling into my parking spot, I check it. The number is unknown. Student debt collectors, maybe? Did I forget to pay my loans this month? I don’t have those on auto pay and sometimes they slip my mind.

I shove the phone back into my backpack. I’m not dealing with loans right now. I’m not dealing with
anything
right now. In fact, maybe I’ll skip the TV and go right back to bed.

Eryk sits on the couch, already living out my plans with Comedy Central and a steaming mug of joe sitting in front of him.

“Hey,” he says, his voice sounding feeble and weak.

“Hi.” I stretch my arms over my head and walk into the kitchen to pour myself a cup from the half full pot. I can feel his eyes on me the whole time I get out the half and half, swirl it into the coffee, then put it back in the fridge. When I look up, his eyes fall to the carpet.

I wrap my hands around the cup and join him on the couch.

“I’m sorry for last night,” he says, finally looking at me.

I nudge his leg with my toe. “Thanks. We’re not trying to hurt you or be mean. We’re really worried about you. Especially Crystal.”

“Everything I’m doing is normal.” He avoids my eyes when he says that, looking at the coffee table instead.

I purse my lips. His statement is a point to be argued, but I won’t do it right now. At the moment, all that interests me is stretching my legs out and half sleeping while I stare at the television screen.

“Crystal said you took Brendan to the airport.”

“Yeah.” I take a sip of coffee. “What? No ‘good riddance’?”

Eryk’s shoulders lift a millimeter and for the first time, I notice just how tired he looks.

“Where is Crystal?” I ask.

“She said something about a hike with someone named Sean.”

“Bean? Astin?”

“I’m sure it was one or the other.”

I smile at him, glad to have our old joking mood inserted into the conversation.

Someone knocks on the door, interrupting the moment.

“Ugh.” Eryk groans and lets his head flop back. “If it’s Dominica from down the hall again, I’m going to freak out.”

“Why?”

“She’s fund-raising for her school. I already gave her, like, twenty dollars, but she keeps coming back.”

“Tell her to get a job,” I giggle.

“Since when do you advocate child labor?”

I set my coffee down. “I’m kidding.”

“Can you make her go away?” he whines.

“I’ll give her the change from under the couch cushions.” I stand up, yanking my tank top down so ten-year-old Dominica doesn’t have to be exposed to a grown woman’s bare stomach so early in the morning.

Pushing my bangs out of my eyes, I open the door without looking through the peep hole. With it halfway open, I halt. All I can do is stare at the person standing in front of me.

“Is it her?” Eryk calls. “I’ll pay her a dollar to go down to the store and get us some skim milk.”

“I can get your milk,” Simon says. Surely it’s a joke, but he doesn’t so much as crack a smile.

“Uh,” I mutter, still staring at him. He’s wearing a plain white shirt and there’s stubble on his cheeks. His skin is slightly tanner too. Wherever his “business” trip was, it must have been in a place with beaches.

“That sounds like a man,” Eryk suspiciously calls.

I unstick my tongue from the roof of my mouth. “It-it is a man. It’s Mr… it’s Simon.”

The corner of Simon’s mouth perks up the slightest bit, and I’m tempted to lick the entire length of his lips… and then push him down the stairs.

“Invite him in!” Eryk calls.

I still can’t move.

Simon peeks over my shoulder. “Sounds like your roommate wants me to come in.”

I suck in a breath and step aside. “Okay. Why the hell not?”

He waits patiently in the hall while I close the door, then follows me to the living room. Eryk is sitting up straight, beaming at us. “Oh, hello,” he says like he’s a regular debutante. “So nice to see you again.”

“You too, Eryk.”

“Can we get you anything?” he asks, still using his phony I’m-The-Perfect-Host voice.

“No, thank you. I just came by to speak to Sydney.”

I grab my coffee mug from the table and because it’s cooled down, swig half of its contents. I look at Simon over the rim of the mug. He looks back at me, then glances at Eryk. Eryk looks at him and then stares at me. Simon looks back at me… and I stare at my coffee.

Simon speaks first. “Can we do it, um…”

“In private,” Eryk offers.

“Yes. Thank you.”

“Sure. This way.” I turn my back to him and head for my room. Everything about the living room and hallway is different with Simon in them. I feel as if we’re swimming underwater.

God, why is he here?

As much as I want to kick him out and tell him to never return, I also want to beg him to stay. This is exactly the reason I needed to separate myself from him in the first place — to get a clear head about things.