He grits his teeth, not taking his eyes off mine as he says, “Busy.”
“And that prevented you from texting me?”
He doesn’t say a word, only dropping his gaze from my eyes to my lips.
“You couldn’t find five minutes in your day to just run next door and say hi to me so I would know that you meant all the shit that’s coming out of your mouth?”
He looks up, his turbulent gray eyes meeting mine, and just like that, everything inside me wants to lose myself in him. “If I talked to you or spent five minutes with you, it would just make it harder to stay away, and there was shit I had to do.”
“Bullshit,” I say again, and his grip tightens, pulling me in, but he doesn’t say anything because we both know I’m right.
“Tell you what, Storm,” I sneer, tears threatening to fall. I fucking hate that he keeps making me cry. “Why don’t you come find me when you’re ready to get real. Until then, I’m fucking done.”
He releases his grip on me, and I despise the fact that it hurts when he lets me go. Without a word, I turn and march back into the office where Carly envelops me in a hug.
“So, totally a bad time, I know, but who is that yummy man out there?” Mercedes asks, and I laugh through my anger.
“Uh, that would be Logan. You’ve met him before, right? The day he came looking for me?”
She shakes her head. “No, Honey. I definitely would have remembered him.”
I scowl and look behind me where Logan is still staring at me through the glass. Carly nudges me, and I turn back to look at her.
“Let’s just order the really yummy soup from the place next door,” she offers, and I force a smile to my face as I nod.
“Is he still out there?”
She looks behind us and nods. “Yeah, he is. By the way, I’m totally on your side now.”
It’s so ridiculous that I just start laughing, and she grins at me as she hooks her arm over my shoulder and leads me away from the door to my office. She closes the door behind her when we get inside, and I sit down on the couch Mercedes insisted I needed.
“I’m so stupid, Car,” I sigh, and she spins to me, her phone in her hand, and a shocked expression on her face.
“What? No, you’re not.”
“I met him three weeks ago. Only three weeks and I was thinking there was something serious between us. I’m an idiot.”
Her gaze softens, and she sinks down into one of the chairs in front of my desk. “You can’t control your heart, Ali. Three weeks or three years – no one can tell you how quickly you’ll fall for someone. And for the record, I think there is something real between the two of you but he’s an idiot.”
I sniff, wiping away a tear as I crack a tiny smile. “Thank you.”
“What are friends for?” She shrugs before turning her attention back to her phone to order our food. I stare out the window and wonder if he’s still out there. There was something different about him today. He seemed freer than before, like maybe the things that were holding him back have finally released him. I shake my head and sigh. I can’t think like that. It’s a guaranteed way to make sure my heart gets broken into a million little pieces.
“You okay, Hon?” Carly asks, looking up from her phone, and I lift my head and nod at her.
“Yeah, I’ll be all right.”
“Is it wrong to say that I’m still kind of hoping that he pulls his shit together?”
I laugh and shake my head. “No, you go ahead and hope for the both of us because I can’t.”
“Done and food will be here in fifteen.”
I nod and start to ask her a question when someone knocks on the door. I call for them to come in, and Margie appears in the doorway holding a single rose in a vase and a teddy bear.
“Someone’s popular today,” she says, and I force a smile. She sets it down on my desk and hands me a card before leaving. I look up at Carly and then down to the card in my hand.
“Doesn’t really seem like Logan’s style,” she says, eyeing the flower and teddy bear.
“No, it doesn’t.”
She meets my eyes before looking down at the card that I’d honestly forgotten I was holding. “Well, open it.”
I glance down and flip the card over, sliding my finger under the flap, and it comes apart easily. On the front of the card is a bear just like the one sitting on my desk with a little speech bubble that says, “I love you beary much.” Uneasiness washes over me, and I look up at Carly.
“What does it say?” she asks, looking as weirded out as I feel. I open the card and read it to myself.
Alison,
I wanted to say congratulations on the column. I’ve read every single one, and as predicted, you are brilliant. But you already knew that. My sweet Ali, it feels like it’s been forever since I’ve gotten to see you, and the only comfort I’ve had is your beautiful words. Why are you hiding from me? You wouldn’t even believe how much I miss you. I hope you like the bear and the flower, and I hope they serve as reminders of me while you’re hard at work until I see you again, my love.
See you in my dreams, Sweetheart.
Chris
My stomach rolls as I pass the card to her with shaky hands, trying to process what the hell I just read. I’m officially weirded out by this Chris guy, and I don’t understand what he wrote at all. He talks like we’re in a relationship and I’ve been ignoring him for work. He talks like he knows me intimately. A shiver works its way down my spine, and I kind of feel like I’m going to be sick.
“You dating someone else I don’t know about?” Carly asks, looking up at me when she finishes reading, and I shake my head. “Hey, wait… Chris – isn’t that the same guy that sent you the letter and called into the radio show?”
“Yeah, that’s him.”
She hands me back the card, and I look at the flower and teddy bear on my desk, baffled.
“What should I do?”
She looks over the things on my desk before grabbing the vase and teddy bear. She drops them in my trashcan and takes the card from me and slips it into the paper shredder. “Ignore him. When you don’t give him the attention he wants, he’ll go away.”
I nod, hoping she’s right.
* * * *
The doorbell rings just as I’m settling in for some trashy TV with a big glass of wine, and I sigh, looking over at the door as I consider just ignoring it. After everything that happened today, I don’t want to deal with anything else except whatever is making Kim Kardashian ugly cry this week. Whoever is on the other side is persistent, though, and they ring the bell again before knocking a few times. Setting my glass down on the coffee table, I climb off the couch and march over to the door, determined to get them out of here as soon as possible. As soon as I fling open the door, I groan in annoyance.
“I’m really not in the mood to do this with you again, Logan.”
He steps past me without waiting for an invitation, and all my hopes of going back to my comfy spot on the couch die. “Too bad. We need to talk.”
“No, we really don’t,” I say, even though I’m closing the door.