Run (8 page)

       Gwen kept a small calendar on the wall next to the cash register. I glanced at it as I was ringing up a table.

       May third.

       
That
was why it was getting worse. It had gotten worse the same time last year. May sixth was the anniversary of Deirdra’s death. May sixth was when I’d left Bend behind in the middle of the night, without a word to anyone.

       The rest of my shift passed in a haze of orders and concerned glances from Celia. I protested as she followed me to my car. “Seriously, I’m fine. Exhausted and I’ve got a slight headache, but I’m fine.”

       She frowned. “That came on pretty quick.”

       “That’s the nature of headaches,” I said wryly. “They like to spring themselves at the most inopportune time.”

       “You sure you’re okay?”

       Any other time, I would have welcomed her concern. It was a sense of belonging, of friendship and love, something that filled some of the cracks in my lonely soul. Right now it was bugging the shit out of me. I wanted to be alone. I managed a small smile. “I’m going to go home, take some painkillers, and maybe take a nap. I’ve got the early shift tomorrow anyway, so going to bed early might be a good idea.”

       She groaned. “God, I hate those shifts. Six fuckin’ AM. The human body is not meant to be up that early.” She nudged me into the car. “Go. You’re gonna need that sleep.” Her face brightened. “Hey, I think we’re both off Friday. Umphrey’s Magee is in town, and I can score some tickets. Wanna go?”

       “Sure.” Anything to get her to go away. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

       Half an hour later, I trudged up the stairs to my apartment, bracing myself for the blast of heat that would hit the moment I opened the door. I probably ought to eat something first, but I wanted the dead space of drug-induced sleep.

       The apartment was a sauna. I locked the front door, opened the windows facing the alley, found the Lunesta and dry swallowed a tablet. I stripped off my clothes and fell on the bed as the chemicals took hold and pulled me under.

* * *

       Not enough people appreciated sunrise. The grey softening and fading to gold, clouds painted colors you’d find in the fluorescent section of the crayon box, the rest of the world still sleeping, grumbling their way into wakefulness. No, they took it for granted that it would be there, and there’d be plenty of time to look at it later.

       The tables were still empty, the diner bright and cheerful on the shadowed street. I tipped my head back and stared at the sky. Gwen didn’t mind if I took these minutes for myself. No one else was using them, anyway.

       My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled it out.

       “Don’t think you can text that to me and get away with it.”

       Trevor’s voice helped cut through the last dregs of the Lunesta I’d taken the evening before. “Wasn’t planning to get away with anything. I was hoping to make it a reality.” I leaned against the front of the diner. “Trevor?”

       “When?”

       There was a world of desire and want and trust in that one word. The weight of it crushed my chest, squeezing the air out of it. Maybe this was the wrong sort of distraction. Maybe I was forcing something into being. Putting him in a position he didn’t want to be in. “Whenever you’re willing.”

       “Fuck,” he whispered. He was quiet for another long moment. “You remember what I said about not wanting to be your fuck toy?”

       “Yeah.” Which was, I realized, precisely what I was making him into. Heat swept up my neck to flare out over my cheeks. “Shit. No more texting while half asleep. I’m sorry.”

       “You’re making it real hard to stick with that. How are you so sure it’s a good idea to trust me?”

       I scuffed my toe along a crack in the sidewalk, searching for the words. “That first night, you were ready to stop if I’d said
no
. You brought me home when I was too drunk for my own good and put me to bed. You didn’t kick me out the next morning when you left. You let me stay. You let me cook you dinner. There’s a hundred tiny reasons for it, but the biggest one is I just
do
. You’ve had plenty of chances to screw me over or take advantage of me, and you haven’t.”

       Gwen poked her head out the door and motioned for me to come inside. I nodded. “I have to go. Forget I said anything.”

       “Can’t,” he groaned. “You know all I’m gonna think about is what wild fantasies you’ve got hiding in that pretty head of yours.”

       “I smiled. “I wouldn’t call them fantasies. More like…bedroom activities I haven’t gotten around to trying yet. I leave the serious kink to other people.”

       There was a rustling noise, and I imagined him sitting up in bed, hair mussed, eyes sleepy. “You at work?”

       “Breakfast shift,” I confirmed.

       “Text me the address.”

       What? “Trev—”

       “Text me the address, McKenna. I gotta eat. Being able to see your face while I do it would make it even better.”

       Sweetness. Off-hand, casual sweetness. “Are you this nice to everyone?”

       “Mama raised me to be polite and treat a woman with respect.” More rustling, and I saw him rolling out of bed and reaching for the jeans he’d stripped off the night before, then shuffling across the room to the bathroom. “Nice guys do exist. We just get overlooked for the domineering assholes of the world.”

       I snorted. “I’ll text you the address if you let me off the phone.”

       “See you soon, darlin’.” He disconnected the call, and I texted the diner’s address to him as I walked back inside.

       “You eat yet?” Gwen looked up from where she was wiping down menus.

       I walked over to the counter and hefted the tub of napkin-rolled silverware. “No.” I’d stumbled out of bed that morning with barely enough time to shower and shoot off the inappropriate text to Trevor.

       “Go tell Tommy what you want. Don’t know why I bother opening this place so early sometimes,” she muttered.

       I did. For the people who didn’t take the sunrise for granted.

       Tommy, the other cook, was standing in front of the big stove, staring at it like he didn’t know what he was supposed to do with it. “I’m pretty sure you turn it on and it heats up and then you throw raw food on it and it gets unraw.”

       He scowled. “Smartass. No, I think one of the heating elements is busted. Charlie said something about one side of it not working right, but he didn’t say which one.”

       “Well, you want to test it out on me? Bacon and eggs.” The lack of customers was good for one thing: I’d have time for an actual breakfast, not just a bowl of cereal hastily shoveled down. Provided the diner remained empty, of course.

       I left Tommy to contemplate the stove and headed out into the main dining room. I set out silverware, glancing at the street occasionally to watch the sun rise higher.

       Tommy yelled out my order, and I grabbed the plate and took it to a booth in the back that had an unobstructed view of the door. He’d burned the bacon, just the way I liked it. I hadn’t had to remind him, despite having only worked two breakfast shifts with him.

       Another crack filled.

       I ate my eggs, crunched into the bacon, tried to figure out what to do with myself once my shift was over. My furnished apartment didn’t boast a TV, and I debated dipping into my measly savings to splurge on a laptop or something to watch movies on. The heat made it impossible to want to do anything other than lie around and sweat, and passing the time with mindless explosions or ridiculous meet-cutes sounded like a great idea.

       The bells over the door jangled, and I scooted out of the booth and grabbed a menu, hesitating in the middle of the floor when I saw who it was. Trevor smiled at me, all messy hair and stubbled jaw. My own lips stretched in answer. “Morning.”

       He snagged one of my belt loops and pulled me in, his free hand coming up to cup my jaw. “Morning,” he murmured. Soft lips, warm and sure against mine, making me melt and wish we were alone. “So this is where you work?”

       Gwen was ignoring us, her head down as she counted out the deposit from last night. Aside from Tommy in the kitchen, the place was empty. It should have been sad; the run-down greasy spoon, empty of diners, the street outside just coming to life. Tommy banging around in the kitchen, muttering to himself, the air conditioning kicking on and emitting a high-pitched whine before it settled into its usual thrum.

       But in the short weeks I’d been here, this place had become more comfortable than my classroom had been the last months I was there. Home. It was my home, for however long I wanted it to be.

       “Yeah.” I eased back. “Hungry?”

       The look he gave me was pure hunger, and not for food. “You serious. About that text?”

       Heat swept up my neck. “I shouldn’t—”

       “Hey.” He pressed his thumb into my lower lip. “You want to slow it down some, that’s fine, too. We can just hang out. Grab some food.”

       “Celia said something about going to see Umphrey’s Magee Friday night,” I blurted. “Um. I can see if she can get an extra ticket.”

       He smiled, slow and wide, the heat in his eyes sliding to warmth. “I’d like that.”

Chapter Nine

       
We
’
ll have to place you on paid administrative leave.

       There was obviously something wrong with her.

       You saw it. You did nothing.

       Not true. I’d tried. She was so embarrassed, those first few times I’d brought her to the counselor. I didn’t want to make it worse.

       
Did you ever feel you were in danger?
       

       No. Not from her. From everyone else. From everyone else after I’d fucked up.

       Someone’s elbow connected with my side, and I jolted, a broken spring in the seat digging into my ass. The reception area was more crowded than I’d thought it would be, though I shouldn’t have been surprised. Even in the heart of Red Country, people would still want birth control. A clinic willing to dole it out and provide other much needed family planning services would be popular. I wondered if my appointment would fall by the wayside and they’d end up squeezing me in whenever they could.

       I shifted around, trying to find a more comfortable spot in the chair and failing. I hadn’t had a check-up since before I’d left Bend, and I felt I owed it to myself—and Trevor—to make sure I was disease-free and that my IUD hadn’t suddenly dislodged itself and was floating around in my uterus.

       The image was so horrifying and disgusting I shuddered, squeezing my eyes shut and thought of pleasant things. Pretty things. Rainbows and flowers and fucking unicorns.

       “McKenna Davis?”

       I opened my eyes. A scrub-clad nurse stood at the entrance to the brightly-lit hallway, the one I assumed led to the exam rooms. I stood, picking my way across the floor, trying to avoid stepping on tiny hands and LEGO parts.

       The exam room was small. The slanted, padded table took up most of the space, and the nurse ripped off a sheet of paper and laid it over the table. She pointed to a chair in the corner, a worn hospital gown neatly folded on the seat. “Go ahead and undress. Doctor will be in.”

       As I substituted my clothes for the gown, I wondered how long I’d be waiting and wished I’d remembered to bring a book. It hadn’t escaped my notice the nurse didn’t say “shortly”. Just “in”. I hopped up on the table and stared at the wall. What was Trevor doing right now? Likely working, sweat darkening his shirt, sheening his skin, lean muscle stretching and flexing. The mental image made my blood warm with want, and I squirmed, the paper crinkling under my butt.

       There was a knock at the door, and it swung open, the nurse hustling in. “Got a minute, so I’m going to go ahead and draw your blood.”

       My least favorite part of the exam. I nodded, swallowing hard. The needle stung going in. Blood filled the vial with ease. So dark. So red. It looked clean, in a strange way. Untainted. She taped the cotton ball down and took the vials with her, leaving me alone with thoughts of Trevor and Deirdra and home crowding my brain.

       The doctor showed up sometime later—maybe fifteen minutes, maybe thirty. He was quick and efficient, speeding through the necessary questions. When was your IUD inserted. Date of your last period. Thump the chest, spread your legs, endure the pinch and intrusion and try not to feel embarrassed. Fifteen minutes later I was dressed and ready to navigate the waiting room.

       My phone vibrated as I was paying, and I managed to catch the call before it went to voicemail. “Hey, you.” I wound through the waiting room and out the front door, trading the noise for the relative quiet of the parking lot.

       “McKenna.” I loved how Trevor used my full name, not the quick and easy Ken or Kenna. “Callin’ about the show tonight.”

       I unlocked my car and pulled open the door, heat rushing out. “I can text you the details. Celia has the tickets, so you’d need to meet us out front in order to get in.”

       “Or I could come pick you up. Grab food first.”

       A date. An actual date. I hadn’t been on a date in years. A slow, giddy smile spread across my lips. “Or you could do that. Show starts at nine.”

       “Text me your address. I’ll pick you up around eight.”

* * *

       “Is that the guy?” Celia asked.

       “What guy?”

       She jabbed her elbow into my ribs. “Tommy said some guy showed up at the diner at the asscrack of dawn the other day when you were working. I can put the two together. He’s the one, right? The one who left you all smug and exhausted?”

       I gave her a half-smile, turning around to scan the bar for Trevor, who’d gone off to retrieve beers for the three of us. “Maybe.”

       Dinner had been weird. Trevor had been quiet as he looked around my apartment, a faint line forming between his brows. It deepened as a fight broke out in the parking lot. The tips of my ears burned as I followed him outside to his car, noting the tense set to his shoulders.