Because it won’t last.
In fact, it’s just about up.
27
Ryan
* * *
I know before I open my eyes and reach out my hand that she’s gone. My bed is cold. My house quiet. My heart is aching.
Dammit, Katie, how could you run out in the middle of the night?
I should have known she’d want to avoid a big goodbye. I should have expected this.
But I didn’t.
I didn’t, and now I’m crippled with it.
I could go out and try to find her. Try to bring her back and make her stay with me forever, but I won’t. There is no point. She wanted to go.
“Fuck!” I yell out, slamming my fist into the rumpled sheets on her side of the bed. Moving my body over, I bury my face in her pillow, inhaling her smell. The best fucking scent in the world. Katie.
I miss her. It’s only been a couple of hours since she left, and I already can’t stand how much I miss her. The doorbell rings and it takes me less than a second to fly out of bed, throw on my glasses, and run down the stairs in only my boxer briefs. Maybe she went out to get me coffee and a Diet Coke for herself. Maybe she didn’t leave me.
I fling the door open and want to punch the shit out of the face on the other side. Fucking Luke. Why is he here?
And why is he not Katie?
“Why do you look like you’re about to pull out a knife and stab me to death on your front porch? And why are you answering the door mostly naked? Even though I think you’re good looking, you’re just not my type,” he winks. I’m not in the mood for his shit right now.
“What do you want, Luke?” I snap, hoping he’ll just go away and leave me to search the house for Katie before breaking something large and heavy when I convince myself that she’s actually gone.
“Breakfast, man. We talked about it yesterday, remember? Duchess Kate invited me.” He’s scrutinizing me closely before his eyes wander past me into the house. “Where is Duchess Kate?” He can sense that something is off, and I don’t think I can bring myself to say the words out loud.
“No breakfast today. Just go.” I start to close the door when his hand reaches out to stop it.
His eyes flash with confusion before transforming to realization. “She left you, didn’t she?”
Does he have to sound so sympathetic about it? It just makes me want to punch his face in all the more. When I don’t respond, he runs a hand through his short brown hair that he probably spends a small fortune to have cut.
“Fuck, man, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”
“What the fuck do you think?” I yell at him, unable to contain my fury any longer and taking it out fully on him.
“I think you love her.”
“Go away, Luke,” I point toward the street behind him. “Please. I can’t deal with you and the shitstorm that’s going on inside my head.”
“Do you want to go out and get drunk? Or laid maybe?” His hands fly up when he sees the rage creeping up my face. “Okay, not either of those things. But I don’t want to leave you alone right now. Have you tried calling her?”
I shake my head, sighing out in frustration because he’s not going to fucking leave. “No, asshole. I knew she was going to take off. It’s not like she didn’t tell me before doing it.”
“I don’t understand. Why would she go and tell you about it beforehand?” Luke walks past me into my house, ignoring the death look I’m throwing him. Heading into the kitchen, he plops down on one of the black leather barstools.
“Because she’s been through a lot of shit and isn’t ready for a relationship, or anything like it for that matter.”
“But she loves you,” he states firmly and clearly, like there isn’t a doubt in his mind. “I freaking saw it, man; otherwise I wouldn’t have messed with her or you so hard.”
Luke is also getting upset now. He liked Katie. I know he did. For me, he liked her. Maybe for himself a little too, but I’ll ignore that.
I shrug, walking over to make myself some coffee. My head is throbbing so bad it feels like it’s going to explode.
“You know we could always hack her phone or her credit cards? Find out where she went, and then you can show up and do the whole big romantic gesture.” I throw him a look that says shut the fuck up now. “Okay, fine. No hacking or grand gestures of love. So you’re just giving up?” He can’t believe it, and neither can I.
But I’m not giving up.
I’m just giving her what she asked for.
Time.
Once I get the coffee going, I turn around to face him, but the look in his eyes is not one I want to see, so I move my attention to the window instead.
“I’m not giving up. I love her. I’m just giving her some space and time.”
“Fine. You know the situation better than I do, but all I’m going to say is don’t wait too long. You two were good together, and I only spent a couple of hours with you.”
Does he have to be such a good friend? It’s odd, but right now, I don’t want comfort or platitudes, or brilliant words of wisdom and advice. I just want to deal with this by myself and wallow in my own self-pity.
I have nothing to say back to that, so I pour myself a cup of the black stuff, hoping it’s the cure for the pounding in my head. It’s not. Only one thing can make me feel better, and she’s off somewhere without me.
Somewhere unknown.
Dammit, Katie.
“Let’s go eat. I’m hungry. And I don’t think you sitting in this house is the best idea.” Luke stands up to his full height—which is an inch or two shorter than me—and waits, his eyes locking onto me like a vise. “I’m telling you, man, when things went to hell with Ronnie, I only got into trouble when I was home alone.”
“I’ll be fine, Luke. Really.” I run a hand through my hair as I sip my coffee. “And I’m not hungry.”
“Fine. No food. Do you want to work?”
Do I? I don’t know. It’s certainly a distraction, and I could use one of those about now.
“What kind of work?” I ask, moving to the large island and setting my plain black mug on top of the marble with a clink.
Luke smiles like the devil himself. “Pen testing?”
“Pen testing what, Luke?” I have zero patience right now.
His smile grows wider. “Tommy’s shit?”
I laugh, and oddly, it feels good despite the vacuous hole where my stupid, pathetic, traitorous heart should be. “Sure, man. Let’s fuck up Tommy’s shit and see if we can nail his balls to the wall.”
He laughs too, but the gleam in his eyes tells me he’s excited. “A grand says I get in before you.”
“You’re on, motherfucker.”
I run upstairs and change into some clothes. As comfortable as Luke and I are around each other, I’m not going to sit around him in my boxers. My cell phone is still on my nightstand and I can’t help but look.
Nothing. No call. No text. No nothing.
Dammit, Katie.
I thumb through the pictures that I took along the way—sort of like I knew I’d lose her and would need them—and scroll all the way back to the beginning, to our first night in DC when I got Tommy to take a picture of us.