Timing (211 page)

56

Mary Calmes

I CHANGED into jeans and a T-shirt t afte

t r ta

t kin

i g a showe

w r and sa

s t

down on the bed to wait for Rand to bri

r ng me some food. I must have

dozed off again, because

s when I woke

k up,

, Ra

R nd was sitt

t ing up in be

b d

beside

d me

m , him

m on top of

o

f the quil

i t and me

m under it, flipping channels

and eatin

i g a

sa

s ndwich off

f

f a pape

p r

r plate

t .

“I thought you were

r gett

t ing something for me?” I asked, sitting

up beside

d him so tha

h t we w

ere

r shoulde

d r to shoulder.

He said something with his mouth full as he po

p inted with the

remote contro

r l to

o the oth

t er

r side of

f me

m . On the nightstand wa

w s a plate

with a sandwic

i h and chip

i s on it and a huge glass of iced tea. The glass

was cold, so it had just arrived.

“Thank you,”

, I said a

s I

I rolled towa

w rd it.

He just grunted.

“Remember you have to

t chew,” I told him as I started on my

sandwich.

He ignored me,

, flipped

d th

t e channe

n ls some more, and then turned

to look at me.

It

I was my

m turn to ta

t lk with

t my mouth full. “What?

t ”

“Why didn’t

’ you just

s call me or Char

r to come

m ge

g t you from the

hospital?”

“I didn’t want Charlotte

t to worry

r , and honestl

t y

l , I didn’t even

think of calling you.”

“Why not?”

Timing

57

“Probably because we’ve only been on speaking terms for, like, a

minute.”

He shrugged. “Sure, but you gotta know that in an emergency, all

bets are off.”

I just looked at him.

Slowly, the wariness filled his eyes, and I watched his brows

furrow. “Wait, you do know that if you needed me… whenever, that I

would show up.”

“What?”

“You do know that, right?”

“No.”

He was genuinely surprised. “I’ve known you over ten years,

Stefan; you’re my little sister’s best friend––how do you not get that

you can count on me?”

“What does my relationship with Charlotte have to do with you?”

He stared at me, and I could tell he was trying to figure something

out.

“Are you being serious?” His eyes were darkening.

“Sure. Me and Char have nothing to do with you and me.”

“Is that right?”

The way he said it, like he was hurt, I sort of wanted to take it

back.

“Screw you,” he said as he climbed off the bed.

“Wait, why’re you pissed at me?”

He turned and pointed at me. “It’s nice how little you think of

me.”

“Rand––”

He turned for the door.

“Wait.”

But he left, slamming the door behind him. I had no idea what

was going on.

58

Mary Calmes

I tried to just watch TV, but the fact that I knew he was mad at

me, for whatever reason, nagged at me. Normally, the man being

annoyed was a good thing. Once, I would have basked in the

knowledge that I had pushed his buttons, driven him to explosive

anger. But it was different suddenly, so sleep was not a possibility. I

headed downstairs to find him.

There was a small group sitting around, talking, telling stories,

eating, drinking, and laughing. They were back from being out, and I

realized that I must have slept a lot longer than I thought. I saw Rand

sitting between two guys I had met the other night, but I couldn’t recall

their names. As I crossed to them, Charlotte called my name.

I went to her, and she slipped her hand into mine as she let her

head fall back to look at my face.

“Sit here by me.”

I let her pull me down, and after she was done grilling me about

how I felt, she turned back to her bridesmaids and continued the

conversation she’d been having before I showed up. She was sharing

some wild and crazy moments from her past. I glanced over at Rand,

but he was talking with others. I realized it had been a mistake to come

downstairs. He wasn’t going to let me talk to him and was in fact doing

his best to ignore me.

Charlotte’s mom brought me some tea, which I appreciated, as the

girls had started talking about the sluttiest things they had ever done.

Whoever thinks that men talk dirty has never listened to a bunch of

women let loose. I have a theory that because women are better with

details that they can do graphic a hundred times better. When someone

shook my leg, I opened my eyes and found Charlotte smiling at me.

“Yes?”

Five sets of lovely eyes looked at me.

“Have you ever been tied up, Stef?”

“You know I have,” I told the bride-to-be.

“Were you scared?” another bridesmaid asked me.

“No.” I smiled at her.

“Ever been handcuffed?”

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59

“Yes.”

There were squeals of delight.

“Have you ever tied anyone up?”

“Yes.”

Even more giggling as they all leaned in close to me.

“Was it fun?”

I arched an eyebrow for them. I didn’t need to answer.

They erupted in laughter as someone brought over a board game.

I started to get up, but Charlotte insisted, since I was feeling better, that

I be on her team as a silent partner. I was going to beg off when Rand

took a seat on the couch beside me. He was going to play, so I stayed

where I was.

I paid attention, leaning forward, listening to categories being

read and listening to people try and come up with the answers. After

the third time around, I looked up and noticed Ben staring at me. His

eyes were flat, cold, and when I turned to Charlotte, she just gave me a

quick shake of her head. What the hell?

“Maybe being the caretaker of secrets is overrated, huh, Stefan?”

Rand asked, leaning in close to me. “Whaddya think?”

“Shit,” I groaned softly, face down in my hands, closing my eyes.

His hand was on my neck, massaging, his fingers working up the

back of my head into my hair. It felt so much better than good, and I let

out a deep breath.

“You should go to bed.”

“I need to talk to you.”

“Why?”

I rolled my head sideways to look at him. “I had no idea that you

could separate us being assholes to each other to us being friends. I’ve

never had that, so I didn’t know.”

He was studying my eyes, and after several minutes, he nodded.

“Okay.”

“Okay? You sure?”

60

Mary Calmes

“I’m sure.”

I released a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.

His hand slid back down to my shoulder and then off, as he had to

roll the dice. Everyone talked, Ben’s mother brought out photo albums,

and there were funny, embarrassing stories to be shared. I listened,

liking the banter, the family moments.

“Stefan, honey,” Ben’s mother looked at me. “Where’s your

family?”

I turned and looked at Charlotte. She waved.

“I don’t understand?”

“I left home at fourteen. I never went back.”

Her eyes were huge. “How do you leave home at fourteen?”

I shrugged. “My folks got divorced when I was three or so, and I

never saw my dad again. When I was fourteen, my mom married this

guy who really couldn’t stand me, so… he threw me out, and she let

him.”

She looked horrified.

“It was a long time ago,” I said.

“But I––”

“He got a job, he went to school, and he lived with a lot of

different friends… he did it,” Charlotte cut her off. “And then he went

to college and met me. Voilà, instant family.”

She stared at me. “Have you spoken to her at all since you left?”

“No, ma’am, she passed,” I told her. “Charlotte went with me to

the funeral.”

“Which you paid for,” she added.

There was a long, suffocating silence. I felt like I was on display.

“Come here and hug me,” Ben’s mom said, motioning me over to

her.

She wanted to comfort me. It was very sweet.

I declined more offers of food as a tray of pastries was brought

out along with hot chocolate. The yawning was impossible to stifle, my

Timing

61

eyes too heavy to keep open. All the inactivity was making me

lethargic. Usually at eight on a Thursday night, I was having dinner, to

be followed by clubbing and screwing. There was always someone new

to take home and then ask to leave before morning.

“Scoot over.”

They were making room for more people on the couch. Charlotte

got up, and I moved to the end of the sectional, which was shadowed in

the corner of the room. It was relaxing until Rand crowded up against

me.

“So,” he said, his mouth suddenly next to my ear, his breath hot

down the side of my neck, “would you like me to tie you up?”

Taken off guard, I shivered from his words and his closeness.

“I figured,” he said as his fingers slid up under the back of my T-

shirt to touch my bare skin, which was now covered in goose bumps.

So slight a movement and so very erotic. I almost jumped up, and

everyone looked at me oddly.

“Headache,” I said, pressing a hand to my forehead before I

walked out of the room.

He caught up to me at the bottom of the stairs.

“Stef.”

I spun around to face him. “You’re being an ass, for whatever

reason.”

His jaw clenched as he stared at me.

“Fuckin’ fix it,” I told him, turning around and heading upstairs

without another word.

In my room, I yanked off my T-shirt and ran water and gel