“Okay.” She took a deep breath. “I’m listening. Tell me everything and take it slow.”
* * *
Joe didn’t come over that night. Nor did he call the next day.
Which made sense, really. His family had just been through a terrible loss, his brother would need him, of course. He probably needed time to catch up with Star as well. Besides him just needing to rest and heal. Selfish of me to think otherwise. I wasn’t that badly hurt that I needed checking up on. It was hard to move around due to every muscle in my body feeling like it had been run over by a truck. And making any kind of facial expression was out of the question. Resting bitch face was the only safe choice. But I had pain meds and room service, a big hot bath to relax my strained muscles, and plenty of movies to watch if I couldn’t sleep. So how bad could life be?
I missed him, though.
Yes, I could have called him. Maybe I should have. The thought of interrupting something important held me back, though. Poor Eric. Poor Nell. For sure, I was worrying about Joe not calling for no reason. What a fucked-up situation. It was nothing like the time he’d just dropped off the face of the earth email-wise. We were friends, or something, now. He wouldn’t do that to me again. Surely. Hopefully, everyone else was okay. As okay as they could be. Maybe tomorrow I’d go into Dive Bar, see how things were going. On the other hand, that might be construed as me lurking or something.
Gah. There was no set etiquette for this. We’d been sleeping together for a couple of nights and friends for months and months. But this situation …
Whatever his silence meant, it didn’t feel good or right.
* * *
Banging on my hotel door. It was like a recurring dream. I’d been fast asleep—way off in la-la land at only eight o’clock at night. I switched on the light and hobbled over to the door, hurting but excited because finally he was here. Thank God.
Smile on my poor aching, battered face, I opened the door and froze.
“Well, you look like shit,” she said.
“Val?” I blinked. She was like a mirage, so badly wanted it couldn’t be true.
“I’d hug you, but everywhere looks like it hurts.” Instead, she patted me gently on the head. “Holy hell, Alex. I knew this trip was going to be big for you, but this is ridiculous.”
“Tell me about it.” I groaned, stepping back. “Come in. I’m glad you’re here.”
“Me too. Go lie down before you fall down.”
With a full-size suitcase in tow, she made her entrance. Her makeup was natural looking and not a strand of her dark ponytail was out of place. There wasn’t a single wrinkle on her classic black pant suit, nor a spot of dirt on her patent heels. Valerie always had more style in her perfectly manicured pinkie toe than I did in my entire body, and her loyalty knew no bounds. The last few days had been so crazy, it was comforting to know some things never change.
“So, here we are in the wilds of northern Idaho.” She collapsed into the armchair, watching me climb slowly back into bed.
“Indeed.” I tried to get comfortable, closing my eyes against the light.
“Do you need me to get you anything?”
“No. Thanks.”
A pause.
“What are you going to do about the beastman?” she asked quietly.
A stupid urge to burst into tears came over me, eyes itching and nose leaking. No. Absolutely not. Everything hurt and I missed him. Basically, I was being a big baby, but I drew the line at tears. If my voice waivered a little, there wasn’t much I could do about that. “I don’t know.”
“How do you feel about him?”
“Good question.” Needy. Pathetic. Confused. Ah, man. “Maybe we should head back to Seattle, give him some space. He’s got so much happening right now.”
“Is this you running away?”
I gave her question a lot of thought. Or as much as possible, given the dull thumping going on in my head. “I don’t think so. I just … shit. I want to do the right thing by him but I have no idea what that is.”
“Guess you better ask him.”
“Yeah.”
A long sigh from her. “Go back to sleep. Tomorrow we’ll fix your face and your life. In that order.”
I snorted. Gently.
It was good to have friends.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Sadly, only so much of your life can be fixed with a makeover.
Val and I went to breakfast at one of the cafés down the street. Care of her mad skills, my bruises were covered and my hair cunningly styled to hide the stitches. Much less Frankenstein than the day before. After much discussion, the decision had been reached. I would call Joe. The only question that remained was when?
“Now,” said Val, voice strong, as we stood in the lobby of the hotel after breakfast.
“What if he’s sleeping in, recuperating?” I punched my floor number in the elevator. “In a couple of hours would be better.”
“You’re just delaying. I know all about you, chicken shit lady.”
“That’s harsh.”
“But true.”
Unable to deny it, I shrugged.
The elevator pinged, the doors slid open. And I found myself staring at the man of my dreams. Literally. My subconscious had been worrying over the subject of him all night.
“Joe.”
He sat on the floor, head hanging low, his back up against my apartment door. When I spoke he looked up, tangled blond hair sliding back from his face. Shit, if anything, he seemed worse than he had at the hospital. He looked diminished, like this whole experience had taken and taken from him. Worry bowed his shoulders, sorrow filled his eyes.
“Hey.” I stepped forward, Val at my side.
“Hey,” he said. Moving in slow motion, he climbed to his feet.
“It’s good to see you. How are you feeling? How’s your arm?”
He waved the cast in my general direction.
Silence.
I just stared at him, soaking up the sight. “It’s so good to see you.”
Beside me, a throat cleared. “Hi, I’m Val.”
“Val.” Joe gave her a flicker of a smile. “Hi. Nice to meet you.”
“Good to meet you too and I’m going now,” she announced, pushing the button for the elevator. It hadn’t gone anywhere. The doors slid straight open and Val disappeared without another word.
Joe and I were left alone.
Funny thing about hotels, they’re one of those in-between places. People are always coming and going, but no one lives there. Hallways especially seem to be both haunted by the memories of past guests and waiting for new travelers to pass through. So quiet and still, filled with the invisible eyes of security cameras, they’ve always freaked me out a little.
But the way Joe watched me out of the corner of his eye, like I might attack, like he maybe didn’t want to be looking at me but couldn’t resist, was far worse.
“Let’s talk in your room,” he said.
I nodded, dread weighing down my every move. Goodbye had a feeling, a scent, and Joe was covered in the shit. My moves were mechanical, emotional armor doing its best to keep me covered.
Open door, go inside, wait for him to also enter, close door and face him as best I could. Don’t cry, because crying wouldn’t help.