Love By Accident (8 page)

"Buddy, you need to relax," Gil commented from the other side of the seat.

Knowing Lauren was nearby, Matt craned his neck and looked out the back window. He couldn't see her anywhere. Whew. Well, that was something, at least. He didn't know what he'd do if she ran over and saw him talking to Gil. Or if she could see him. Maybe it was a hallucination.

"I'm losing it," Matt mumbled.

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news, man, but you haven't had it since you were seventeen and borrowed your old man's Oldsmobile."

Gil had his arm resting across the back of the bench seat. He had on a rugby shirt and a pair of blue jeans. How could he look so real, so alive it broke Matt's heart?

"Please tell me this is real; you really are here."

Gil's brown eyes softened with understanding. "Yeah, buddy. I'm real. It's real. At least for a little while."

Matt's breath rattled in his chest. He wiped his palms on his pants. "I gotta tell ya, Gil, this is freaking me out."

"What happened to Mr. Easy Going? What happened to the guy who got a flat tire on the side of a road once and decided to take a nap in the box of his truck rather than fix it? Or the time I did laundry and shrunk your two new pairs of Levis and you blew it off, even though we were broke and you couldn't afford to replace them?"

"I wasn't talking to a ghost then!"

"Chicken shit," Gil teased.

His smile lit up his face and Matt stared, memorizing every angle and line of his face. God. He never wanted to forget this moment.

Gil shifted in his seat, faced Matt more squarely. "We had some good times, though, didn't we?"

The prick of tears came as fast as the fist that squeezed Matt's heart. "Yeah, we sure did," he answered softly.

"We had good times with Lauren, too."

Matt's heart fell. He didn't want to talk about Lauren, not with Gil. He couldn’t very well admit he'd lusted after Gil's girlfriend the whole time they were together. He couldn't admit a tiny part of him had resented Gil for standing between him and the woman he wanted. And he sure as hell couldn't admit that hearing Lauren's name come out of Gil's mouth reminded him all over again that, to this very moment, Gil still stood between Matt and Lauren.

And didn't that just make Matt a world class asshole for even thinking such a thing, considering the miracle he was being given in being able to talk to Gil again?

The blast of a horn to Matt's left jolted him. He spun and turned, saw another white ranger truck pull alongside him. Matt's gaze cut back to Gil but he was gone. He wiped his upper lip, looked once again to the other truck. Matt groaned and cursed again. He shouldn't have bothered getting out of bed at all this morning.

Resigned, he pushed the power window button and the glass slid noiselessly down.

"I saw your truck and noticed you were parked all crooked. Is anything wrong?" Nick inquired.

"No. I just, uh, saw something in the ditch." He pointed to the back of his truck. "I got it."

"Right," Nick nodded, a smirk on his lips.

Nick rolled away and Matt heaved a sigh, leaned his head back onto the black vinyl seat.

Gil was back and wanted to talk about Lauren.

Lauren didn't want to talk about Gil.

Nick was, in all likelihood, sleeping with Lauren.

And, once again, Matt was left out in the cold.

"Goddamn, I need a shrink."

SIX

After the rough start at the office, then seeing Gil in the truck and Nick immediately afterward, the rest of the day had continued to go to shit. Now, after trying to work out his frustrations at the pool, Matt was heading home.

A horn blared to his left and Matt instinctively slammed the brakes and the clutch. An angry hand waved out the passenger window of a souped-up Dodge Neon, giving him the one finger salute.

"Same to you," Matt grumbled, then, watching the car drive away as the hand disappeared back inside the tinted window, he saw what he'd missed. A four-way stop sign.

It wasn't until he parked and went to shut off his lights that he realized he hadn't remembered to turn them on to begin with. Shaking his head, he beeped on the alarm and trudged up the stairs to his door. When he was safely inside, he took off his jacket, threw it on a chair and promptly ignored it when it slid off and sprawled onto his carpet.

He took a beer from the fridge, popped the lid and took a sip before dropping onto the couch. Stretching his legs out on the coffee table, Matt leaned his head back into the buttery soft leather, stared at the water stains on his ceiling, and rested his beer on his stomach.

"Buddy, you look like shit."

Matt jerked upright; his Doc Martens slammed to the floor. Beer geysered out of the can, flowed over his fingers and pooled on the beige carpet.

"Could you please stop popping up like that?" Matt demanded, setting the aluminum down and trudging to the kitchen for a dishtowel. He mopped up the mess while Gil watched. Watched and chuckled, damn it.

"You know, you could offer to help. This mess is your fault."

Gil made himself comfortable on the chair. "You, my friend, have become great entertainment."

Matt threw him a scowl. "Kiss my ass."

Gil roared. "It's good to know some things don't change."

"Glad I could entertain you," Matt grumbled, taking his beer and settling back onto the couch.

"I miss those," Gil said.

"Huh?" Matt asked, thrown by the abrupt change in conversation.

"Beer," Gil gestured to the blue and white can of Kokanee. "I miss the taste."

Well, finally, a break. Tucking his tongue into his cheek, Matt lifted the item in question to his face. "Really?" He shook the can slightly and licked the foam. "Mmm. Yeah, it's good. Cold, too." Then Matt lifted the can to his lips and drank deeply, deliberately making loud glugging noises in his throat.

"Fuck off."

It was Matt's turn to laugh. "Other than the mess on my carpet which will likely smell like stale piss in the morning, I'm glad you came by. I needed the laugh."

Gil shifted in the chair, draped a leg over the armrest while tucking an arm behind his head. "Yeah, well, laugh time's over. I came to ask you why you were so harsh with Lauren this morning?"

"She's not supposed to be hazing." He set the can down before he squeezed it too hard and spewed up more beer.

"It's not about the hazing, so quit blowing smoke up my ass. What's really the problem?"

Matt buried his face in his hands. God, he really didn't want to do this, not with Gil. Couldn't they talk about something else? Hockey? Football?

"Come on, Matt. Talk to me."

He lowered his arms. He couldn't lie to his best friend. Not like this. He'd accused Lauren of not honoring Gil's memory by lying. If he walked the walk then he needed to talk the talk.

"It's like talking to a bloody mannequin sometimes. She always used to laugh, kid around. Remember when she was full of piss and vinegar? Now she's," he sighed heavily, "she's cold."

Matt shook his head. "I don't know. It's the best way I can explain it."

"Is that why you went over to her place? To get a reaction?"

Matt almost swallowed his tongue. "You were there?"

"I saw you storm away mad, then I saw her crumble. Those were real tears, nothing cold about them."

Crying. Hell. Matt hung his head. Dammit, he hadn't gained any satisfaction yelling at her last night but he felt even worse now, knowing he'd made her cry.

"Buddy, I don't blame you."

Knowing he needed to face the music, Matt lifted his head. Gil's eyes were filled with compassion and understanding. Matt's burned with emotion; he'd been so terrified he'd let down his friend.

"You made a mistake, Matt." Gil's eyes clouded. "You didn't do anything that can't be made right."

"She'd be an idiot to ever open a door to me again."

"Well, as fun as it is to watch you drown in your pity pool, flogging yourself won't make this right. Fixing it will. Got any ideas?"

Gil shifted forward in his chair. The fact that the leather creaked with the movement had Matt's breath hitching. For now, for however long he had, Gil truly was back in his life.

But one person was glaringly missing.

"I guess I can start by apologizing."

"Sounds like a damn good place to start," Gil agreed.

***

In her dream, Lauren ordered a Mai Tai from a bare-chested waiter who bore an uncanny resemblance to Matt. His smile held the same mischief and his blue eyes twinkled brighter than the sea at his back. Umbrella-decorated drink in hand, he leaned over the bar toward her. His breath warmed her already heated skin. She licked her lips, acutely aware when his gaze followed her movement. Feeling unusually bold, she repeated the motion.

The waiter's eyes went hot. "I'm off in an hour. Let's--"

A loud shrill at Lauren's ears invaded her sexy mood. Another blast and she was no longer bikini-clad in Hawaii. She was back to her sparsely furnished bedroom. Groaning, Lauren tugged the covers up to her chin, rolled over and wished for the warmth of the sun and the smell of the sea to take her away again.

But the phone wouldn't shut up. Muttering inventive curses for whoever was on the other end of the line, Lauren pressed 'talk' and drew the cordless to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Don't tell me you're still sleeping? It's an hour earlier over here, kiddo, and
I've
been up for hours."

"Good for you, Ted," Lauren muttered, covering her eyes with her forearm.

"Don't you work today?"

Lauren peeked from behind her arm. Morning light was shimmering through her thin curtains and the red digital numbers of her alarm read eight-ten. Which normally would be a respectable hour to get up. But not when the last time she'd looked it had read five-fifteen. She hid back behind her arm.

"I've got the closing shift. I was
supposed
to sleep in this morning."

"Sorry, kiddo. Want me to let you go?"

"No, I'm awake now." To prove it, she pushed her pillow up against her headboard and leaned back into it.

"Good, 'cause I have a golf game in an hour, after which we're going for lunch downtown. And later, I'll be cutting grass."

"I forget how nice it is there. Funny you're not that far away and yet you cut your grass right up to Christmas."

"Yep."

She heard the lazy stretch in his voice. "It should be about eighteen degrees here today."

"Shut up, Ted. I can hear the wind howling outside my window. And I can guarantee you nobody's out golfing."

He chuckled and she heard a car cruise by. "Are you sitting outside?"

"Sure am," he gloated.

"So you called to rub in the fact that it's warm over there?"

"Well, partly," he chuckled. "I also wanted to check up on you. How are things?"

"Getting colder, but so far it's only snowed in the higher elevations."

A door closed and she figured he'd gone back inside. Lauren gave up her bed and trudged to the kitchen to get some hot chocolate going.

"Lauren, before I left, Matt told me about the accident. He told me, well, everything."

Lauren fumbled the mug she'd grabbed from the cupboard. It crashed to the counter, but she managed to catch it before it rolled to the floor.

"Oh," she said. Nothing else came to mind. Ted knew. God, what must he think of her? The kitchen tap's dripping filled the silence but no matter how much she tightened it, it continued to leak. Just like the past. No matter how much she tried to lock it away, it kept coming back.

"Lauren, I'm not calling to pass judgment. I just want to know how you're doing."

She pressed her fingers over her mouth, struggled to contain the relief. When he'd said he knew...

Taking the phone from her ear, she pressed the mouthpiece into her leg and sniffed loudly. With her free hand she wiped the moisture from her eyes then lifted the phone to her mouth.

"Things are strained, but I'm not surprised."

"Kiddo, I'm asking about you. Are
you
all right?"

"I've survived worse, Ted."

"That doesn't make it any easier, does it?"

She thought of the look Matt had given her last night, of the venom that had coated his words before he'd slammed out of her house. "No, it doesn't."

"You know Matt wouldn't be angry if he didn't care about you."

"Well, they say there's a fine line between love and hate." And considering how Matt had left last night, there was no doubt which side of the fence he stood on.

"Lauren, if you could have a friendship again with him, would you?"

Like a tape on rewind, her mind backtracked to college and the times Matt had come to her dorm room, sometimes with Gil, sometimes alone. It hadn't mattered. She'd enjoyed the company either way and sometimes, when the school work had been heavy and she'd felt overwhelmed and Gil was submerged in studying, it was Matt's goofiness, his love of life and playfulness that had saved her from herself.