Kim hid her sense of emptiness behind a smirk.
“You make it pretty easy for women to hate your guts, you know. You can be a real dick sometimes.”
He belched. “Thanks a lot.”
“You always have to be a hard-ass. Put people off with snarky comments and put-downs. Afraid to show your feelings.”
Yeah, Kim, you tell him. You’ve got all the answers, don’t you? That’s why your life is working so well.
“It’s the truth. What is it about guys? You all act like you’re so tough and strong, but when it comes to being honest about how you feel, you’re a bunch of scared little babies.”
Adam popped a new can and mentioned something about Oprah, then proceeded to give some crazy-ass story about Elyse being in bed with some gay guy. The explanation left Kim dizzy.
And pissed Groucho off. The big orange cat leaped onto Adam’s thigh with claws outstretched.
“Grouch, that’s bad,” she remarked as Adam tried to shake him off. Truthfully, she wasn’t too inclined to intervene. “Quit it.”
“Shit.” Adam rubbed his thigh once Groucho skedaddled. “That stupid cat’s got razor blades.”
Kim shook her head in a pitying and oh-so-superior way. “You really are a sad case, aren’t you, Vostek? You get in a fight with your Elyse, and instead of talking it out with her, you drive your ass over here.”
His face got red again. “What are you talking about?”
“You’re jealous of this guy friend of hers—this gay guy—and instead of admitting it, telling her you’re scared to lose her, you come and pester my ass. Man, how chickenshit.”
Uh-huh. And you’re not just as chickenshit, hiding from Charlie? Because he makes you feel things you’re afraid to feel?
“Well, I’m sorry.” Adam wobbled to his feet all hurt and huffy. “Sorry you think I’m such an asshole. I’ll leave, then, so you don’t have to put up with me.”
“Oh, shut up and sit down,” Kim snarled, disgusted with him and herself. “You’re not going anywhere after what, four beers?” Her own beer tasted bitter, too bitter to finish. She set it on the coffee table. “You need to sober up. The coffee’s in the cupboard, you know where. Make it yourself. I’m not waiting on your ass. As soon as I re-pot my spider plant, I’m heading to bed. You can crash on the futon tonight.”
“Okay.” His pitiful acquiescence made her sorry for him, and that pissed her off.
“And don’t be thinking you’re getting any sex off of me,” she growled, though he hadn’t even attempted a pass. “The gravy train has left the station, I don’t care how pathetic you look.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
So Kim repotted her plant and went to bed, angry and confused. Angry that she spent so much time pursuing Adam, knowing he’d never love her.
And confused because she couldn’t stop thinking
about another man—one who had the power to hurt her more than Adam ever could.
****
Kim rose around ten o’clock the next morning and checked on Adam snoring away, a rumpled, sweaty, unshaven mess. She turned off the TV, which had been left on all night, and made herself some coffee.
Groucho again lay in the armchair, playing her bodyguard and glaring at Adam fiercely.
Make a move, you’re dead meat, dude.
“It’s okay,” she told the cat. “That ship has sailed.”
Had she ever really been in love with Adam?
She’d thought so, had certainly wasted plenty of time trying to get him to offer more than good times and sex. Had she only told herself it was love, to justify the time and effort she expended?
Or was it to justify the good times and sex? If she loved Adam, then sleeping with him didn’t make her the slut her parents thought she was. And if he loved her back, then she was a good person, worthy of respect.
She’d drive herself crazy trying to figure it all out. And though a little sting still lingered, she knew she could let him go. Hell, she had to. He wasn’t hers, never had been. He belonged to Elyse, even if he was too dumb to know it yet.
“Be glad you’re a cat,” she told Groucho.
I am
, his steady green gaze replied.
You people are too messed up.
An hour later, she’d showered and dressed while Adam still lay sawing wood. Someone tapped on the door. She opened it to find Charlie carrying a white and orange box and balancing two coffees in a cardboard tray on top of it. “I come bearing donuts.”
His smile was crooked, as though he half-expected her to slam the door in his face.
“Well. Come on in,” she told him, taking the tray and leading him inside. Her skin prickled with excitement, but she tried to seem nonchalant.
“Donuts are always welcome.”
“And the guy who brings the donuts?”
She lifted a shoulder. “Eh.”
But she smiled to show she was joking. Relief flooded her that he’d had the courage to make the first move. Seeing him now made her realize how much she’d missed him. Crazy.
He set the donut box on her tiny kitchenette table, then took one of the coffees and smiled at her.
“That one’s yours.” He nodded to the other paper cup. “Cream and sugar, right?”
A bone-rattling snore came from the futon. Oh shit. In her happiness at finding Charlie at her door, she’d momentarily forgotten Adam.
Charlie’s smile vanished and his face went blank. “Guess I should have called first.”
Kim’s heart sank. What should she do? Go into defensive mode?
It’s not what it looks like.
Or be nonchalant?
Oh, don’t mind him, just an old friend who got drunk and fell out on my sofa.
They said the best defense was a good offense.
Well, who told you to drop in uninvited, anyway?
As she struggled to decide, Charlie walked over to the futon and frowned at Adam’s sleeping form.
He cleared his throat loudly.
Either the throat-clearing worked or Adam somehow sensed Charlie looming over him, because he stirred and blinked his eyes. He looked disoriented, as though he couldn’t place himself.
Charlie held the coffee out to him. “Looks like you could use some of this.”
Kim watched, frozen, as Adam levered himself up and took the cup. “Uh, thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” Charlie spoke without emotion, polite but distant. He just stood there as Adam took a few swallows of the hot drink and set it on the coffee table. He even rescued Adam from Groucho when the cat tried to bite a hole in Adam’s ankle.
“Stop that.” Charlie pulled Groucho off the other man and plopped him onto the floor. The big orange tomcat turned gentle in his grasp. The quizzical look Adam gave Charlie asked
how’d you do that?
Charlie’s smile answered
I’m da man
.
Kim hurried in with the bakery box and a big fat fake smile. “Charlie brought donuts.”
She slid the box onto the coffee table and grabbed a coconut donut while gesturing with her free hand. “Charlie, this is Adam. Adam, Charlie.”
Charlie nodded, unsmiling. Adam nodded back.
She stuffed the donut in her face and pretended that all was right with the world. Sure, nothing unusual about having two males in her living room, eying each other and wondering
what’s he doing here?
Yep. Just another day in paradise.
Kim noticed how green Adam was around the gills and pushed the donut box toward him. “Have one.”
He grimaced, about ready to urp at just the thought of food. “No thanks.”
She needed to torture him. After all, it was his fault that Charlie was giving her the evil eye. “Aw, come on. You don’t know what you’re missing.” She nudged the box closer.
Charlie cleared his throat. “I’ll be leaving.” He gave Kim a meaningful look. “Think you can walk me to the door?”
Here it comes
. She stood and followed him into the hall. Then he waited, as though expecting her to explain.
When she didn’t, he told her what she already knew.
“That’s the guy from Hanover’s. Your ex- whatever.”
“Yeah.”
Heat flashed in Charlie’s eyes, and his lips tightened to a narrow line. “For God’s sake, Kim.
Tell me you’re not getting back with him.” Before she could respond, he delivered the coup de grace.
“He’s not in love with you.”
She forgot that she didn’t want Adam in love with her, forgot that she didn’t love him, maybe never had. Her temper ignited like tinder, because Charlie had pressed her hot button, touched on her deepest fear. “Well, of course not. What man in his right mind would ever fall for me?”
“That’s not what I mean and you know it. You saw him with that other woman. He’s in love with her. You saw it yourself. He’s using you.”
“Using me? What for? Wait a minute. Do you think I—” She took a step back and peered at Charlie through narrowed eyes. “Do you think I
slept with him last night?”
He flinched slightly at her direct question but didn’t back down. “Did you?”
“None of your business,” she shot back. Wait.
Why didn’t she tell him the truth? Because he pissed her off. Yeah, she’d joked about being easy, but did he really think she’d sleep with him then turn around and bounce into bed with Adam?
It stung to think he believed that. Crap. He’d gotten her all discombobulated. And when had she ever used a word like discombobulated before?
Charlie was totally messing with her head.
“Guess I missed the memo that said we were exclusive,” she snarked.
Charlie’s expression flattened. It shut her out, like a door closing. “I shouldn’t have come. Enjoy the donuts.”
He’d already turned, robbing her of the satisfaction of slamming the door in his face. She
had to settle for banging it closed as he descended the stairs. She stomped back to the living room.
She flopped into her chair and jammed another bite of donut in her mouth.
“Who was that?” Adam asked at last.
“Nobody. None of your business,” she snarled, crumbs flying from her lips. She swallowed hard, the donut lodging in her throat. “My nosy-ass neighbor.”
“Seems like he wants to be more than that.”
Kim snorted. “He pisses me off.” For some stupid reason she felt like crying and she wanted to kick herself. “Thinks he knows it all. Got the answer to everybody’s problem. Yeah, right.”
Adam looked at her apologetically. “Looks like I fucked things up, being here.”
She glared at him. Men made her want to puke.
They all thought the whole fricking universe revolved around them. “Get over yourself and drink your coffee. You need to get out of here.”
He drank obediently. Kim regarded him and as her anger cooled she turned glum. Why did things always have to get so fucked up? She pondered all the “if onlys”.
If only Adam hadn’t come over last night and been too drunk to drive home.
If only Charlie hadn’t arrived this morning to find Adam still here.
If only he hadn’t immediately believed the worst about her.
Kim diverted her attention to Adam. He looked less green now. “Feeling better?” she asked.
“Yeah.” He stood and got a funny look on his face. “Uh, maybe not.” He sank back onto the futon and closed his eyes.
Kim’s mouth twisted into a frown. “Oh, shit.” It was going to be one hell of a day.
And it only got more hellish. She called Adam’s brother Matthew to come fetch him, and the two of them practically had to drag him out to Matt’s truck.
There also ensued some complicated moves that required Kim to follow them in her car so she could then drive Matt back to her place to pick up Adam’s truck. By the time she returned home, half the day had been wasted and she was mightily pissed off. At Adam for turning up on her doorstep. At Charlie for also showing up uninvited, jumping to all the wrong conclusions. And at herself for giving a damn about either of them.
She checked her mailbox and found a few bills, some junk mail, and a square cream-colored envelope. Her stomach bottomed out when she glanced at the return address. Fingering the envelope, she noted its smooth, expensive feel. Kim left it on the coffee table unopened while she puttered around and Groucho snoozed on his chair.
But her glance kept returning to it. How stupid.
She ought to just open the damn thing and get it over with. But the mere thought of it almost made her throw up. So it sat there only getting bigger and scarier. She was reminded of a story she read in high school—
The Tell-Tale Heart
.
Ba-bump.
Ba-bump.
No matter what the guy in the story did, he kept hearing the heartbeat of the man he’d killed.
Kim hadn’t murdered anyone, but that envelope—and what it contained—had its own heartbeat.
Ba-bump. Ba-bump.
She let out a short involuntary scream when the phone rang. It took a moment to still her trembling hands so she could answer the phone. “Yes?”
“Kimberly.”
Kim went still. Only one person called her by her full name. Shit. Why hadn’t she thought to check the caller ID? Perspiration dampened her upper lip.
“Hello, mother.”
Angela Hansen did not waste time with niceties, but got right down to business. “I’m just calling to see if you’ve received your invitation yet.”
“Yes, it came today.” Kim snatched up the envelope and tore it open ruthlessly. Like pulling off a crusted-over bandage.
It only hurts for a second.
An invitation to her parents’ thirtieth anniversary party.
“Good. I hope you can make yourself available for the occasion. After all, thirty years is a milestone.
Especially in this day and age, when no one seems to respect marriage anymore.”
“Uh-huh.”
Even over the phone, she heard her mother’s long-suffering sigh. “Kimberly, can you please refrain from answering me in grunts?”
Kim swallowed the snotty reply that lay on the tip of her tongue. She only saw her family at Christmas, when she had to suffer through an agonizingly long dinner and an even longer lecture on her many shortcomings. Thank God Christmas only came once a year.
“Yes, mother. I’ll be there.”
“Good. Of course Cheryl’s attending.”
Cheryl, the
good
daughter. The one with the perfect life. Of course she’d be there. Had Cheryl ever made a wrong move?