Nothing But Trouble (33 page)

"I was wrong to take my anger out on her.
Especially given how you feel about her." She glanced at him from
under long lashes, as though she expected him to deny he had any
romantic feelings for Rebecca. He supposed, despite how adamant
R.J. had been about keeping their relationship professional,
Danielle still held out hope they'd get involved. How many other
ways did he need to say it? Even if he'd been looking to settle
down, it wouldn't be with Danielle. He'd just never felt that way
about her. That didn't take away from the fact that she deserved to
be with someone who could make her happy. Just not him.

He held up his hand to stop her from going
any further into a subject he didn't want to broach. "You don't
need to say anymore. And I don't feel…"

What? Was he really about to say he didn't
feel anything for Rebecca? Even to Danielle?

"Don't deny it for my sake, R.J.," Danielle
argued with a shake of her head, because apparently, he really was
that transparent. "Anyone can see how you feel about her. Except
maybe you."

He opened his mouth to argue, but she cut him
off. "I know this because you look at her the way I wanted you to
look at me."

Well, if that wasn't like a knife to the
heart, he didn't know what was. "I'm sorry," he said lamely,
because what the hell else could he say?

"Don't you dare apologize. I'm not in the
right frame of mind to hear you say you're sorry for not loving
me." She waved a hand in the air and leaned back against the
headboard. "And, anyway, it's not your fault. I knew what I was
doing. And I knew what
you
were doing, which wasn't the same
thing that I was doing."

"I'm not sure what you mean."
Yeah you do,
dumbass
.

Her tongue swiped across her lower lip. "I
mean your heart was never in it. Mine was. And I pushed the issue,
even though I knew you weren't built that way."

Ah, shit. The fact that she'd hit the nail on
the head didn't make him feel any better. "Danielle…"

"It's okay." She shook her head. "I'm not
trying to make you feel guilty, or anything. I just wanted to say
sorry for the way I treated her."

He cleared his throat because he didn't trust
his voice to come out even. Everywhere he went, his love for
Rebecca was just…
there.
There was no escaping it, even if
he wanted to. Hell, his feelings were even obvious to Danielle.

"I appreciate it."
Now time to get the
hell out of here
. "I'll be in touch." On that note, he spun
around and stalked down the hallway toward the front door.

"See ya later, kid," he called to Lindsey,
who paused in the act of dusting the mini blinds to offer him a
smile.

As the sun crept closer to setting and a
light breeze settled in, R.J. hoped in his car and left Danielle's
house with no particular destination in mind.

The most important thing was clearing his
head. If he was going to have a conversation with Rebecca, a much
overdue conversation, then he needed to be thinking coherently. She
deserved better than some idiot who fumbled over himself just at
the sight of her.

Confessing his love for someone wasn't
something he had a whole lot of experience in. None, in fact.

What if he screwed it up? What if she'd
already decided she didn't want to be with him?

But hadn't she told him she already wanted
him?

But wanting someone and wanting to be
with
them weren't the same thing.

Maybe he'd misinterpreted her words. And had
she ever actually used the L word? Had he assumed wrong?

Ah, shit. Now he was even more confused than
before. Bad enough he didn't know how to handle his feelings, now
he wasn't even sure of Rebecca's feelings.

As he left Danielle's neighborhood, R.J.
realized he needed to do a lot more thinking before making any
monumental announcements.

R.J. didn't even
make
it home before his cursed cell phone rang. The thing was one blink
away from being chucked into the garbage can, and not because he
was tired of it ringing. But because his fingers itched to dial
Rebecca's number and he wasn't ready to confront her ― yet.

All in due time.

When he knew what the hell he was going to
say to her without tripping over his words like an ass.

Could it be that hard to say
I love
you
?

Since he'd never said it to a woman before,
he had no idea.

He pulled to a red light and picked up his
cell phone. His sister's name blinked across the screen, and with
it the promise of some rambling story she just
had
to tell
him. While he loved her to death, conversations with Courtney had a
way of sucking the life out of him. Since there wasn't that much of
it in him at the moment, he allowed the call to go to
voicemail.

However, as soon as the phone stopped
ringing, it started again. He pressed forward when the street light
turned green. Damn it all to hell, he wasn't in a conversational
mood right now. All he wanted to do was go home, suck down a couple
of beers until he passed out.

With a muttered curse, he picked up the
phone. "Make it snappy," he demanded.

"Have you seen Rebecca today?" Court
asked.

The concern in her voice had his knuckles
gripping the steering wheel until they ached. "Not for a couple of
days. Why?"

Background noise came from the other end, as
though Court were rustling papers, or something equally annoying in
his ear. "I don't know. I just talked to her and I can't shake the
feeling that something's wrong. It sounded like she'd been
crying."

Probably crying over him because he was the
jackass who kept pushing her away. "And?"

His sister sighed. One of her annoyed sighs
that dragged on for about half an hour. "And, I don't know… Do
something. Go tease her until she smiles. You're good at that."

Dark clouds were rolling in from the south,
undoubtedly bringing in a spontaneous rainstorm. Or they could be
coming to join the dark clouds that were already swirling over his
head. He'd gotten so used to their presence that a few more
couldn't hurt.

"I'm not sure where you're going with this,
Court. Rebecca's had a lot on her mind lately. She's going through
some stuff with work."

"I know, that's why I'm worried about her.
It's not like her not to talk to me." She paused. "Can you just
find her please?"

"Yeah, no sweat. I'll just use my internal
GPS tracker that I always use to find people." It was a joke, but
so very true when it came to Rebecca.

The expletives that flew from Courtney's
mouth would have made a trucker proud. "I'm serious, R.J. You'll
find her. You always manage to find Rebecca."

Click.

Beating around the bush was never was one of
his sister's strengths. Most of the time he admired that about her.
She didn't take shit from anyone and always called it like she saw
it. Sort of like him.

But at times like this, he needed her
unabashed honesty like he needed a manicure.

Shit.

Just as he pulled in his driveway, where the
solitude of his house waited, his cell vibrated.

Text me when you know she's okay
.

Ah, hell. Why was he pretending that he was
going to go in his house and be all relaxed and shit? He knew damn
well he would eventually go after her. Going inside would only
delay the inevitable. He'd toss his keys on the kitchen counter,
grab a beer, pace for thirty minutes, then get back in his car.

Courtney was right to call him because she
knew dropping Rebecca's name would get his attention. Even though
he'd pretended otherwise, like he didn't give a damn. As though
Rebecca's comings and goings weren't of concern to him.

"Son of a bitch." He tossed the gearshift in
reverse, and backed out of the driveway. Without even thinking, he
knew where to go because he
did
know Rebecca's comings and
goings. In the past, he'd paid way too much attention to her,
keeping one proverbial eye on her while trying to manage his own
life. It hadn't been easy, serving more of a distraction than
pleasing his appetite for her. Nothing pleased his appetite unless
he was touching her. Kissing her. Holding her. Slipping deep inside
her.

But even that wasn't satisfying. In fact, it
was the equivalent of dipping his toe in a refreshing pool on a
sweltering day. He needed, no craved, to jump head first, in the
deep end and drown himself until he couldn't even see the surface
anymore.

He wrapped his right hand around the shifter,
tossed it in third gear and cruised toward Crown Liquors. While he
had no intention of getting her drunk, he had in mind something
that would, at least, put a smile on her face. And really, wasn't
that the whole point? Didn't he love to make her smile more than
anything else? Rebecca without a grin was like steak without
potatoes. Like… apple pie without ice cream.

After grabbing some essentials, R.J. left the
liquor store, and headed toward the neighborhood where Lacy used to
live. Hopefully the rain would hold off a while longer. The clouds
were drawing closer, brought on by the strengthening wind. Getting
soaked wasn't in his plans nor did it sound like the least bit of
fun.

John T. White Middle School was surrounded by
a neighborhood that had been established back in the sixties. The
place badly needed repairs and expansions. But the gymnasium was
only fifteen years old and hadn't yet reached the decrepit state of
the rest of the school. The roof, in particular, seemed to be a
popular hangout among kids or anyone looking to get a great view of
a sunset or the Fourth of July fireworks. The place had easy access
with a ladder on the side of the building that anyone could climb.
The school had made no attempt to keep people from making the roof
of the gym their second playground. Not even the suicide attempt by
a high school student who'd jumped and had only succeeded in
breaking his leg.

Rebecca had liked to venture there just like
everyone else. He knew she went there sometimes after work to clear
her head or watch the sun set. Not that he'd ever followed her. He
just
knew
.

He parked in a spot labeled
staff,
grabbed the two bottles from the passenger seat and headed to the
ladder that would take him to the roof. Carrying two full bottles
of beer while trying to climb wasn't going to be easy, and
something he hadn't thought out very well.

"Shit," he muttered as he looked from the
ladder to the bottles in each hand. Maybe if he shouted loud enough
he could get Rebecca to come down.

Not likely
.

She'd gone up there for a reason, most likely
to be alone. It would take some coaxing to get her to leave.

He shoved the bottles in his front pockets,
praying like hell they wouldn't fall out and shatter on the ground
beneath him. Then he would just be the dumb shit who couldn't climb
a simple ladder with full pockets.
That
would earn him a
smile if nothing else would.

He made it to the roof without any
catastrophes and spotted Rebecca right away. Her red hair caught
his attention first, with its loose, unruly curls tumbling down her
back and almost touching the cement where she sat. He wanted to go
to her, grab a fistful of the stuff and bury his nose so deep until
her scent intoxicated him. That familiar feeling happened again,
the one where his heart shifted inside his chest and threatened to
explode. He recognized the phenomenon for what it was, didn't even
try to force it away or ignore it. That would only leave him more
agitated.

Forcing some semblance of confidence, he
walked toward her, carrying both bottles in one hand and thinking
of something to say to her. The slump in her shoulders wasn't a
good sign, nor was the sniffing. Her knees were tucked to her
chest, encased in the cocoon of both her arms. In one hand was a
ragged tissue, which she used to wipe both her eyes.

She sniffed again and shoved the tissue away
in her pocket. "I knew you'd find me here," she said in a low
voice. Its normal singsong beauty was tainted by tears she'd
obviously been shedding.

The knowledge that something had sucked the
vibrancy out of her had him wanting to smash both the bottles over
someone's head.

He sat down next to her and handed her the
pumpkin beer. The sight of her favorite drink brought a momentary
smile to her lips. "Where's your car?" he asked.

She twisted the cap off and tossed it aside.
"Walked."

He paused with his own bottle halfway to his
lips. "You walked here all the way from your house?" That had to
have taken at least thirty minutes.

Her delicate throat muscles worked when she
chugged a long sip. "Yep," she stated after lowering the
bottle.

The corners of his mouth kicked up, then he
sampled his own drink. "And what were you going to do when those
clouds over there opened up on you?"

A humorless laugh popped out of her. "Get
really wet."

"And that was your plan? Come sit on the roof
of the middle school gym and get rained on?"

"Didn't really have a plan."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, both
watching the dark clouds loom closer and closer. R.J. guessed they
had maybe twenty more minutes before the sky let loose.

"Courtney's worried about you," he said. When
she didn't answer, he pressed on. "Is something wrong?"

She set the bottle down and hugged her knees
closer to her chest. "I don't want to talk about it."

Definitely something going on, but he didn't
pressure her. Sometimes the best way to get a person to open up was
to leave them alone. "All right."

A low rumble of thunder sounded from the
distance. The wind picked up and blew Rebecca's curls around her
face and over her shoulders. His arms practically twitched with
need to wrap around her shoulders and pull her close. To offer
comfort for something he didn't understand. Whatever internal
battle she was dealing with had taken the light from her eyes and
stained her cheeks with tears.