Love By Accident (16 page)

"You know," Gil said, angling his head, "this is the exact same routine you had back in college. Shower, shave, cologne."

"Get dressed?" Matt volunteered. "You're not going to watch me, are you?" he asked looking pointedly at the navy towel hanging low on his hips.

"Seen it, thanks. And it's not worth the t-shirt. I'll catch you in the living room."

Matt was dressed and cinching his belt when he strode in. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

"Lauren."

His gaze shot to Gil. Did he know about his and Lauren's kisses? Shit, he hadn't thought of how awkward it would be to face Gil. He'd waited what seemed like an eternity to have her in his arms, to know what her mouth felt like against his. To feel her body pressed into his, her arms around his neck.

It was spectacular.

What he hadn't counted on was facing his friend after the fact. Did Gil know? Did he care? And if he did, where did that leave Matt? Matt rubbed his hand over his face; it had never entered his mind to be embarrassed. But it did now. Man, did it ever. He coughed.

"What about her?"

"How are things going?" Gil asked. He was sitting on Matt's coffee table, thumbing through his Explorer magazine.

Matt leaned against his kitchen table. "Good. We're talking again. I apologized, she forgave me. I fixed her taps."

I kissed your girlfriend
. Damn, he thought, shaking his head and trying freaking hard not to squirm. Fourteen-year-old boys getting caught drooling over their first Playboy couldn't possibly feel as guilty.

"And has she told you anything yet, about the accident?"

"Yeah. She lost control on the ice. Then after, she couldn't face me, my parents or yours, so she left."

"Matt," Gil sighed, dropping the magazine, "There's more."

He'd never known before that it was actually possible to feel blood drain from his face. "What do you mean, more? She felt guilty, couldn't face sticking around for your--"

Fuck. Matt rubbed the back of his neck. What was the protocol for talking about a funeral to the person who'd been in the casket?

"It's not so simple, buddy."

Gil looked away and for a moment Matt thought he saw culpability on Gil's face. But what would Gil have to feel guilty about?

"If you know it all, then
you
tell me what happened."

"I can't. I can only guide you, Matt, I can't do the work for you."

"What's the point, Gil? What's to be gained by talking about it any further?" Especially since he finally had Lauren where he wanted her.

"Lauren's been holding onto something and she needs to let it go or she'll never be able to fully move on."

"If she needs help, appear to her, like you do to me."

"She's got things so locked and blocked, I can't get through to her. I've tried but I can't even get to her front door. But you can. Find out what happened the night of the accident. Get her to talk."

Matt closed his eyes to Gil and the sunshine streaming into the room. He'd been anticipating today. He'd planned his date with Lauren and had been looking forward to it more than any Christmas morning he could remember as a kid. No present he'd ever received could have compared to this day. A date with Lauren. A real date. And Gil wanted him to wreck it by bringing up the past.

Leaning back into the chair, Matt sighed heavily. He didn't want to do it. Shit, he really didn't.

"This is for the best, Matt."

"The best for who, Gil?"

Gil was gone before Matt had finished his sentence. Well, didn't that just figure?

When the going gets tough
, Matt thought,
the ghost gets going
.

THIRTEEN

Still deciding whether or not to honor Gil's request, Matt forgot about the rotting steps of Lauren's porch. His foot broke through the decaying lumber and he fell through to mid-shin. His palms slammed onto the porch to keep his face from smashing into it.

"Shit!" he muttered pulling out his jean-clad leg. He examined the state of his Levis and was glad to see he hadn't torn his favorite pair. Other than the scrape stinging beneath the denim, he considered himself lucky not to have broken anything. He licked his finger and wiped away a scuff on his Doc Martens.

"Are you all right?" Lauren asked from the doorway.

Matt had a sharp retort on the tip of his tongue for the state of her house but it melted at the sight of her. She'd foregone the ponytail. Hair the color of prairie wheat in September glided across her shoulders and ended in a sassy flip. There was some sparkly eye shadow on her lids and a soft pink hue to her lips that drew his attention. She'd always been beautiful to him, but never had she looked so gorgeous. Blood u-turned in his veins and headed south.

"Wow," he said after he'd regained his feet. "I'm speechless."

She tucked some hair behind her ear, looking shy and sexy enough to make him sweat.

"Thanks."

"Ready?" he asked.

"Just let me get my coat."

She pivoted in the doorway and grabbed her fleece jacket off the hook. His gaze flew to her ass and he swallowed a moan. Hoping she didn't look down and see his reaction to her, Matt took the coat from her hands.

"Here, I'll help."

Though his gesture was chivalrous, his motivation was anything but. He was desperate to get close to her. Unable to resist, and pushing his control to the limit, he leaned in and swept a kiss across her cheek, then held her hand as he walked her to the car.

He'd planned their date perfectly and was darn proud of the arrangements. They had the place to themselves, much easier to accomplish in the off season, and he couldn't wait to see the look on her face. He pulled onto a gravel road and slowed to a crawl, lest he get any rock chips on his paint, then glided into a parking space.

He leapt from the car and opened her door, anxious to get to their adventure.

Lauren's gaze fixed on the small asphalt track. "We're going go-karting?"

"Yep. Come on." He tugged her along. "I've booked it so it'll just be us. Now you won't be able to use some lame excuse like someone cut you off when I whip your butt."

The owner hollered out a greeting from outside the office where he was yanking out his annuals. Matt acknowledged him with a wave. He turned to the rack of helmets and grabbed a pink one.

"For you," he said. He picked a manly black one for himself.

"Matt," Lauren said, her hand cold when it touched his. "I can't do this."

"Well, you can't win, but I'll give you a few laps head start so the humiliation won't be so bad." He patted her cheek then drew his sunglasses from his pocket, sliding them on. He moved to the karts and examined them all before he chose the one which would lead him to victory. He was sitting inside before he realized she hadn't moved.

"What's the matter, Lauren, chicken?"

She shook her head. "I can't."

"Lord hates a coward, Lauren. Pick a kart."

She backed away. What the hell? He slid up the back of the seat and pushed his glasses down his nose.

Her grey eyes were huge, her color very pale in the bright autumn sunshine. Matt's stomach dropped and he came out of the go-kart, leaving the helmet on the seat.

"It's just a kart, Lauren. We did this all the time in..." and with a slap upside the head reality hit him.

She didn't drive. The only car he'd ever seen in front of her house was his. In that moment everything else about her suddenly became blindingly clear. The house she lived in was falling apart, her appearance which, until today, wasn't fussed over. She was a waitress instead of what she trained to do. For the first time since he'd woken up in the hospital after the accident, he finally understood that although she may have come away the least physically hurt, the accident had changed her too.
Idiot
. He cursed himself, for not having seen it before.

"You haven't driven since, have you?" He pulled off his sunglasses, put them in his pocket.

Her eyes met his and what he saw in them broke his heart.

"Sweetheart, you can't live like this. It isn't healthy. And I know Gil wouldn't have wanted you to do this to yourself."

Lauren's heart squeezed at the mention of Gil. Her breath quivered in her chest.

"Can we just go back?"

He sighed. "Lauren."

"I'll wait for you in the car." She turned for the parking lot.

"Lauren!" he called out.

She spun around, feeling cornered and threatened. If he'd just leave her alone for five damn minutes. "I can't, don't you get it? I can't drive and I especially can't do the go-karts. He loved these stupid things and we never went without him."

Trembling, she ran to the car. Wrenching on the handle she choked back a sob. She fell into the seat and slammed the door. Fighting the tears blurring her vision, she hugged herself close, relieved to finally be alone. Alone with her shame and her wheezing breath which echoed through the sports car.

***

Matt banged the door to his apartment closed. Since that didn't give him near enough release he threw his keys across the room. And wasn't it just his luck when the damn things actually stuck in the drywall.

Gil appeared next to them and arched an eyebrow at Matt.

"You know, if you'd had this good an arm back in high school we wouldn't have lost so many baseball games."

Matt jammed his hands through his hair and interlocked his fingers. Gil yanked the keys out and set them next the photo of Matt bungee jumping off a bridge over a canyon in British Columbia.

Because he was already wound up and it didn't help that a ghost was in his house, moving things, Matt grabbed a can of beer. He took it to the navy leather recliner and slapped it down on the coffee table, groaning when the foam spilled down the blue can. Well, since his date was shot to hell anyway, he used his forearm to wipe up the mess.

"You primped for a good forty minutes and now you're wiping up beer with your shirt and turning keys into torpedoes?" Gil chuckled taking a seat in the recliner next to Matt. "This oughta be good."

Matt leaned back, pillowing his head on the thick cushions. "There wasn't a damn thing good about it."

"She can be stubborn when she wants to be."

He turned to his friend. "Everything fell apart before I could even ask her about the accident. Christ I knew from the beginning she'd changed, but I hadn't realized just how much she's shut herself off."

"Since when haven't you been able to turn a woman back on?"

"Shut up, you jerk. I mean, she doesn't do anything she used to. She's the same but she's not." He closed his eyes when the truth of his words curled in his gut and twisted. "I thought I was getting through to the old Lauren, but we took a major step back today." His eyes found Gil's serious ones. "Other than the ectoplasm thing, she's more of a ghost than you are."

"I know. That's why I asked you to get through to her. She needs to let me go. To let the accident go. You can't help her with it until you know it all."

Matt rolled his head against the cushions. "I didn't want to push. And after today, shit. I'm scared she'll break if I try."

"She won't, buddy."

"You should have seen her face, though. She didn't cry but the hollowness there, it nearly dropped me to me knees. I'd have done anything to get that look out of her eyes. She seemed, I don't know, like she was made of spun glass and if I made one false move she'd shatter and be lost forever."

"And you don't want to lose another friend?"

Matt's throat tightened and he had to swallow the emotion before he could utter the words ripping through him.

"I'm not sure I could survive it a second time."

***

I ruined everything!

Why? What happened?

As fast as Lauren's fingers could fly, despite blurred vision and swipes at her nose with a damp Kleenex, she described the mess she'd made of what should have been a great date. A date she'd been so excited about she'd changed three times before deciding on the right shirt that would match the only lipstick she owned.

Laur, it's not the end of the world. You can fix this.

He'd gone to so much trouble. We had the place to ourselves. He'd planned it all and I chickened out. I didn't even say goodbye. He dropped me off and I ran inside.

I'm sure he understands. You said he hadn't realized you were scared of driving.

Yeah, but they're go-karts for crying out loud! What's the matter with me that I can't drive something even an eight-year-old can handle?

The tissue crumpled inside Lauren's fist. God, she'd known, of course, the changes she'd made in her life. She wasn't stupid; she knew she wasn't the same. Today, though, seeing it through Matt's perspective had shamed her. It hadn't stopped the crest of fear from choking her with dread, but it had made her see her failings in a very clear light.