I have their number programmed into my phone already, which some may consider sad, but I consider a necessity.
Especially since I have zero food in my house at the moment.
“No. I have a date tonight, and I need to go home to shower and shave for him.”
I cover my ears with my hands. “Jesus, Claire. Would it kill you to have a little professional decorum? I don’t fucking want to hear about you shaving for anyone.”
She smiles brightly as she winks one of her dark-blue eyes at me. “Professional is not really my style, and definitely not why you pay me the “big bucks,” as you old people call it,” she puts air quotes around the words. Tucking her tablet into her messenger bag, along with her phone, she stands up, her dark-red hair straggling under her bright-green beanie.
“Later, skater,” she throws me a wave and heads for the front door.
I shake my head just a little indulgently before calling in my dinner, and the gods are smiling on me because they’re not only open, they’ll be here in less than an hour.
Awesome.
Claire’s voice catches my attention, and it takes me a moment to realize that she’s actually talking to another person. Why is she still here? I get up and walk to the door, wondering if it’s something for me that explains her lingering, when I freeze mid-step.
She’s not on the phone. She’s talking to someone who is at my front door.
What the hell?
Claire’s formal intonation reaches my ears. “Yes, he’s here.” Huh? Who could be looking for me? Judging by her tone, it’s not good. I can’t hear who she’s speaking to, though. Maybe it’s a neighbor or something. “Do you want me to get him, or are you just going to stand there soaking wet and freezing?”
I take another few steps in the direction of the door, but still hold back in case it’s someone I don’t want to deal with.
Claire isn’t being a bitch, though her words aren’t exactly kind.
“No.” It’s a woman’s voice, but it’s faint and difficult to hear. “I should go.”
I halt mid-stride once again.
It can’t be.
I’m hearing the voice I’ve imagined in my head too many times.
“I don’t mean to intrude.”
Holy shit.
My heart starts to pound in my chest, and my pace quickens to the door without conscious thought. I fling the partially ajar door that Claire is blocking all the way open, startling everyone. It’s far too late to play it cool, but I don’t care. I need to know if it’s really her. It’s been three months since she left me in the middle of the night. Three months of unanswered texts.
Three months of fucking misery.
I can feel Claire’s scrutiny on me, but I can’t remove my gaze away from Katie.
Her pale-blue eyes are staring up at me, wide as saucers. Her cheeks are the color of roses, as is her nose for that matter. She’s wearing a black winter coat that is soaked through, along with her jeans and boots. Her long blonde hair is sticking out from under her New England Patriots—fucking Katie—stocking hat and is so saturated with moisture that rivers of frozen water are running from it down her shoulders and chest.
She’s stunning.
So fucking beautiful that my breath is caught in my chest.
“Hi,” she offers timidly, shifting her weight and biting her lip. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your company.” She looks at Claire quickly before turning back to me. “I’ll just come back another time.” She looks like she’s about to run again, but I can’t think clearly enough to do anything other than stare at her like a deer in headlights.
“Katie,” it’s all I can manage, and I feel like a prize idiot for the way I’m behaving, but I had started to convince myself that I would never see her again, so excuse me for being shocked as shit right now.
Claire snorts, waving her hand, drawing Katie’s eyes away from mine. “I’m not company, but it’s nice to finally meet you, Kate. This miserable bastard has told me a lot about you.” Claire points her thumb in my direction. “I was just leaving. You should come in, though. You look like you’re about to freeze to death.”
Claire stares at me as though I should take over at this point, like any sane, normal person would do. I can’t seem to be able to form words.
Katie’s eyes widen further, maybe a little panicked. “Um. No. I...” She looks behind her at the street, like she’s second-guessing her decision to show up here.
Finally, my brain catches up. “Katie. Come in, please. Claire, I’ll see you on Monday. Go, before you run out of time and your date shows up early.”
“Shit. Totally forgot.” Claire steps out of my doorway into the dark, snowy, early evening, stopping in front of Katie. “You understand,” she winks at Katie. “I can’t exactly have my date come over when my legs aren’t shaved, right?” She grabs Katie, pulling her in for a hug and whispering something I can’t hear into her ear. Katie laughs, hugging her back like they’re old friends.
They pull apart and Claire pats Katie on the shoulder before shoving her toward the door. I step back, and Katie reluctantly enters the house, looking around like it might be different than it was three months ago. It’s not, so her inspection is short.
“I, um. Shit,” Katie laughs self-consciously as I shut the door behind her. “I’m dripping water all over your house.”
She’s standing still on the entry rug, and this is getting awkward.
Awkward and wrong.
“Let me take your coat and then you can go over to the fireplace and warm up.” I’m so glad I lit that thing in anticipation of watching a movie tonight and eating by the fire.
She turns on her heels and smiles up at me. “Thanks, if you’re sure I’m not imposing,” she spews out. “I know I should have called or—”
“You never have to call, and you’re not imposing,” I rush, cutting her off mid-sentence. I need to find my inner, composed, confident self, and quick.
I take her coat, shoving it into the closet by the front door. Her dark-green sweater isn’t wet, but her jeans definitely are.
“Do you want to change into something dry?” Please say yes. Please say yes.
“I’m sure the fire will dry me off in no time.” She looks up at me from under her lashes as she takes off her boots and walks with socked feet over to the hearth. Sinking down on the edge of the carpet, she reaches her hands out, hoping to catch the warmth in her fingers, which are no doubt frozen through.
I pad over to the sofa, sinking down into it slowly, unable to take my eyes off of her.
“What are you doing here?” I don’t mean it to come out the way it does, but she shows up at my door after months of radio silence?
I have no idea what this means, or what she’s even doing in Seattle. I guess I’m angry. Yeah, that’s one emotion going through me right now. Ecstatic joy and thrilled beyond belief are there too. Oh, and then there’s dread and anxiety. Can’t forget those.
Her cheeks become even redder if that’s possible, and I feel like a shit for asking her like that.
“I meant, what are you doing in Seattle?” I clarify in a softer tone.