Three Girls And A Leading Man Part 23

I opened the front door of my building and led him down the stairs to my apartment. I felt a flash of embarra.s.sment just before I opened the door, but I tamped it down. He had never cared too much about money before. It was silly for me to worry about him judging me now.

"So," I said awkwardly as we stood in the tiny entryway. "Uh, this is my apartment. Why don't you sit down and I'll get us something to drink? I have tea and some really horrible cheap wine."

"I'll take the wine," he said, sitting down on the couch. I winced as he sank low into the broken springs.

I hurried into the kitchen, eager to get a second to clear my head. Seeing him again had shocked me. I felt off-balance and awkward. As I found two plastic gla.s.ses and poured out the wine, I realized my hands were shaking.

"Here you go," I told him, rejoining him in the living room and handing him his cup. "Sorry, I don't have many proper dishes. This place is just supposed to be temporary and..." I realized I was rambling and forced myself to knock it off. I contemplated sitting on the couch next to him, but the sagging cus.h.i.+on would only end up making me fall into his lap. I could definitely do without the physical contact at this point.

"So," I said, sitting on the cheap folding chair opposite him. "What brings you out this way?"

"Work stuff," he said. "There's a conference in Chicago this weekend that they sent me to. I figured since I was out here I may as well give you a call."

"I'm glad you did," I said quietly, staring down at my wine.

"Annie," he said. Nothing else. Just my name. He sounded so tired, so weary, like I was exhausting him already. The thought made my heart clench.

"I've missed you," I said, figuring I had nothing to lose. "I've really, really missed you."

"Why?" he asked. "Have you been lonely?" There was an edge to his voice that made me look up. He was staring at me with a hard look on his face. Like he was angry, or impatient.

"No," I said. "I don't miss you because I'm lonely. I miss you because you're you. And it sucks not having you around."

He didn't reply, just looked at me evenly. Like he didn't believe me.

"I missed you too," he said at last. The use of the past tense was not lost on me, and it made my heart drop. That was it then. He was over me.

I gazed at his face, this boy who had been so nice to me, who had seen through all of my pretensions. The first boy who had ever tried to break down my walls, had ever been interested in what was going on inside my heart. This boy that I threw away because I was too scared to accept the fact that he might actually be good to me.

The least I could do is tell him the truth.

"Remember that day in Vegas, when we had first met and we were talking about our families?" I asked quietly.

"Yeah," he said, sounding surprised. "That was our first date. I remember all of it."

I nodded. "You...you told me about your dad and I told you about my parents."

"You were so uncomfortable," he said, shaking his head. "G.o.d, I remember looking at you and thinking that it seemed like you thought I was about to arrest you or something. Like you wanted to crawl out of your skin."

I laughed, a short humorless laugh. "Yeah. That's usually how I get when people want to talk about my dad. I try to pretend like it never happened, you know? Because then it can't hurt me."

"You try to pretend like he never left?" he asked, sounding confused.

"No," I said, looking down at my gla.s.s again. I didn't want to have to look at his face when I admitted how weak I was. "The leaving was the good part. I try to forget all the stuff that happened before he left."

"Like what?" he asked quietly.

"He...he cheated on my mom," I said slowly. "For years. And she knew it. She kept taking him back...or rather, she kept begging him to come back. It was always the same, he would screw around, move in with his girlfriend, and she and I would wait. When she helped me say my prayers at night she would always remind me to ask G.o.d to bring my daddy back. I never understood where he was, or why. Not until I got older."

I took a deep breath, determined to keep my voice steady. I never talked about this, not ever. Besides Ginny and Jen, I had never told a soul.

"When I was older, I realized what *affair' meant. And *mistress'. I started to get mad at him, so f.u.c.king mad. Why the h.e.l.l was he leaving us that way? Why was he choosing those other women over us? I told my mom I hated him once, and she slapped me. She actually slapped me across the face. It was the only time she had ever hit me. And she did it in defense of the man that was cheating on her."

I shook my head, disgust for her threatening to overwhelm me. "Once she calmed down, she told me that I shouldn't blame him. It was just how men were. That's what she told me. *All men are like that, Annie.'"

"Ann," he said, his voice tight, but I held up my hand.

"It's not like I believed her," I said quickly. "I know that there are plenty of men who don't cheat. And I didn't expect you to, like, fool around on me or anything like that. I just..."

I paused, at a loss for words. I could feel the tears coming and I was so desperate to hold them off.

"I just didn't want to end up like her," I finally said. "I promised myself that I would never, never end up like her. Wouldn't let my happiness depend on any man, no matter what. She still misses him, can you believe that?" My voice was closing up now, the tears imminent, and I gulped several times. "The last time he left, it was for good. He got remarried, has new kids. And she still wishes, to this day, that he would come back. The day that I...that we...that day in my bedroom I had just gotten off the phone with her. He took her to lunch and she was so excited to tell me about it."

I shook my head as images of my mother's face leapt up in front of my eyes. My poor, stupid mother. Who had loved me and taken wonderful care of me my entire life, even on her own, even under terrible circ.u.mstances. She had always wanted only the best for me-and I couldn't even respect her.

"s.h.i.+t," I whispered, as the tears started to pool. I didn't want him to see me like this, so I stood up quickly.

"I'll be right back," I said, my voice shaking under the strain of my breaking control. "Just need...bathroom-"

Before I could take more than a step, Nate was there, pulling me into his arms. The relief I felt, the happiness at his touch, was so overwhelming I felt my breath catch. But I didn't want him to see me like this. I pulled away.

"Stop," he said, his voice strained. "Annie, please just stop running away from me. Please."

There was so much sadness in his voice. As if my pulling away had literally hurt him.

"Please," he said again, and I finally gave in. I relaxed into his arms, resting my head against his warm chest. And I cried.

I cried for my father, who I had lost so long ago. And I cried for my mom, whose life was so sad. But mostly I cried for me. Because I had let all of these things affect me so much, had let them change me and control me until I could only let my two oldest friends in, no one else.

And I cried because I knew I was in love with this man. And I was scared that he would love me too. Scared of what that would mean and how I would handle it if he did, in fact, love me.

But much more than that, I was scared that he wouldn't.

"I'm sorry," I finally said when my tears had subsided. "I'm sorry I treated you that way."

"It's okay," he said.

"No, Nate, it's not. No one should be treated like that, especially not you. You're too good, way too good to be messed around that way."

"I'm not all that good," he said. "I knew you were hurting but I pushed anyway. I forced you into that decision when I knew you needed more time."

"Please," I said, laughing and pulling away. "Don't try to make me feel better. I'm the bad guy here, okay? Just let me be the bad guy."

"Okay," he said, smiling for the first time since I had laid eyes on him on the street downstairs. The sight of that smile sent my heart lurching somewhere in the vicinity of my ankles. "You're the bad guy."

I laughed-then started crying all over again. "Annie!" he said, looking distraught. "I'm sorry, I was just-"

"Teasing me," I said, smiling through my tears. "I know. I just missed you teasing me, that's all."

"Let me get you a tissue," he said, walking into the bathroom.

I took the opportunity to take deep breaths, trying to calm myself. He returned a moment later and I blew my nose with the proffered tissue.

"Better?" he asked.

"Much."

He picked up his wine again and took a drink, taking a glimpse around as he did so.

"Hey," he said, a perplexed expression spreading over his features. "What's with all the boxes?"

"Oh," I said, looking around. I had forgotten about the state of the apartment. "I'm packing. My lease is up in a few weeks."

"Where will you go next?" he asked, looking sad. "Somewhere a little safer, I hope."

I smiled. "Much safer," I said.

"Well, that's good," he said, taking another sip of his wine. "I'm...well, I'm happy to hear it."

We sat in awkward silence for a moment. I had gotten my apology off my chest, and he clearly forgave me, but I had no idea where we stood.

"You know what? This sucks, Annie," he finally said, standing up.

"What?" I asked, surprised at his outburst.

"I came here all prepared to tell you that I was over you. My sisters told me it would be good for me, you know? That I could finally move on if I got some closure. I didn't even need to be at this stupid conference; I volunteered for it because I knew it would get me closer to you." He set his cup down on the coffee table so hard wine splashed out. "And it's been really f.u.c.king boring, alright?"

He sounded so annoyed, so frustrated, I almost laughed. This was a side of Nate I had never seen.

"I'm sorry," I told him, unable to keep the grin off my face. "You could have told me off over the phone, you know, saved yourself the trip."

"Oh, she's so funny," he muttered. "That's Annie, always has a line for everything."

"I'm sorry-"

"No, it's my turn to talk, okay? I let you talk. Now it's my turn."

"Okay," I said, amused. "Go ahead."

"I came here to tell you that I was done, to show you how well I was doing without you. And then I get here and you're standing there outside, looking all pale and freaking beautiful. And then, when I finally get up the courage to say it, you actually open up to me. The thing I've been waiting for since the first day I met you."

I looked up at him in bewilderment, having no idea how to respond to that.

"It's frustrating as h.e.l.l!" he bellowed.

I had never seen Nate like this before. It was actually really cute, the way his face was getting all red and he kept pus.h.i.+ng his blond hair back out of his eyes.

"How in the h.e.l.l am I supposed to get over you when you keep doing these things to draw me back in, huh?"

I stared at him. Was he actually saying that he still had feelings for me?

"I mean, do you have any idea how much time I've spent waiting for you to call me? To tell me you'd changed your mind and we could give it a go? I would have done that, Annie. Even if you were far away. I think we were worth that. But here you are, all happy in your life in Chicago, apartment-shopping, getting your picture taken all the time with a.s.sholes like Jenner Collins. And I'm stuck in f.u.c.king Michigan. Where, I might add, we've had about four feet of snow so far this month."

He was really on a roll now, pacing back and forth across my threadbare carpet. I realized that I was grinning broadly, and I tried to cover it, not wanting to p.i.s.s him off any more. But he was just so adorable like this.

I love him, I thought. I really, really love him.

I knew what I wanted to do in an instant, and before I could talk myself out of it, I acted on the impulse. Wanting to stop him before he could get going again, I jumped up from my seat on the folding chair and grabbed his face. He looked at me in surprise for a minute, almost as if he had forgotten I was there. Without saying a word, I pulled him down to me and kissed him.

I had never really let myself think about what I felt when I kissed him before. I mean, sure, he was an amazing kisser, but I was always trying so hard to ignore the feeling in my chest, like something was expanding, lifting me up out of my shoes. Or the way that my stomach would clench in antic.i.p.ation when his lips pressed against mine. Or the way it felt like happiness was exploding inside of me when he would sigh against my mouth, when he would cradle my face like it was the most precious thing in the world to him.

I never let myself feel those things before. But I did now. And it was perfect.

"What?" he asked unsteadily, looking down at me. He looked a little dazed, and I had to giggle. "What was that?"

"I'm in love with you," I told him. "I am. And even though that scares the h.e.l.l out of me, I wanted you to know it."

"You're in love with me?" he asked.

"Of course I am," I said, kissing the corner of his mouth. "You knew that. You knew it before I did."

He looked at me in that dazed way for another minute, before he started laughing. "Are you serious?"

Then he was kissing me again, and spinning me around, and it was all very cheesy and romantic. The kind of thing I normally would have rolled my eyes at.

But I wasn't rolling my eyes now.

"Put me down," I finally said, hitting him. "Get a hold of yourself, man. This is no way for a tough guy to act. What are you, a woman?"

"Shut up," he growled, pulling me close. "You love me. So any insults you want to hurl, just remember: you're the fool that loves me."

"Hmm, you have a good point," I said. "Maybe I'll have to stop teasing you altogether."

"Oh no, Annie," he said seriously. "Please don't ever do that."

He pulled me down onto the couch with him, situating me in his lap as the cus.h.i.+ons sagged under me.

"Ooof, I certainly hope your new place has better furniture then this. I mean, I can hardly be expected to jet my a.s.s all the way over here every weekend and sit in this pile of springs."

I snuggled up into his chest. "What do you mean jet your way over here?" I asked.

"To Chicago," he said. "To see you."

"Oh, I won't be in Chicago," I said. "Didn't I explain that?"

"No," he said, looking down at me. "Are you...are you guys going to New York?"

"The show is," I said. "But I'm not."