Page 21

T he night sky is awash, pulsing blue and red. Glass is everywhere. All the lights, indoors and out, are all smashed, the ice Noah has skated on destroyed, and it’s all my fault.

“Marty, I don’t know what to say.”

“Join the club, Kiddo. Join the club.” Guilt like I’ve never known threatens to drown me as he gives me a tight hug before being waved over to a police officer. This man, this strong, proud independent man is broken. To be standing here, the cause of the single tear sliding down his cheek, is crippling. Worst of all, in true Marty style, he’s spending more time comforting me than disavowing me as he should.

I left his pride and joy, his life’s work unlocked, free to be vandalized by opportunistic assholes because I was too busy flirt-fighting with a hot boy.

“Lotte.” Said boy approaches from behind, cocoons my shivering frame in his arms, his tone dripping with sympathies I don’t want to hear, “You’ve been here for hours. Will you please come out of the cold and wait in the office? Claire brought some coffee. You need to—”

“It’s a bit late to be telling me what I need to do, Noah,” I snap, shedding his hold and putting several steps distance between us. “Especially when all I needed was to not be distracted by sexy muscles and sexy fighting and—”

“Sexy fighting? You think I’m sexy?” he jokes, drawing closer again, his hot breath brushing against my skin as lowers his head and buries himself in the space between my shoulder and neck. I ache to lean into him. To let his warmth and scent comfort me. But I can’t. That’s how we got into this mess in the first place. “I’m so sorry, Lotte, for what happened at the game, that I surprised you here tonight, that we fought, that my stupidity stole your focus, and that Marty’s business has been destroyed.” Pausing, he plants a light kiss to my flesh, sending flames of desire licking up my spine. “But I’m not sorry that I took you home, and I’m sure as fuck not sorry about what happened on that couch.”

“Well we should be.” I choke out, my voice weakened by the want I can’t help feeling whenever Noah is close. “This is a sign that you, me, us - it’s a mistake and this,” I wave my hands erratically between the two fire engines and three police cars, “all this is proof.”

“No, this,” he emphasizes with a point back toward the building, “was an accident. One that has nothing to do with the viability of you and me as a couple.”

Just hearing the words couple coming from anyone, let alone someone like Noah is dizzying, is a fantasy. One I want to believe as much as he seemingly does.

“That’s the thing, though, Captain. I think it does. For one, you told me yourself, you don’t do couples. This thing would be a fling at best, and unlike you, I am not a fling kind of person. I should have listened to Claire, shut down the experimental pity fuck—”

“Pity fuck?” Noah interrupts, his face twisting in anger, “What the hell, Lotte? That’s not what—”

“Whatever it was is irrelevant because like I said, none of this would have happened if it didn’t. Now, I appreciate the almost orgasms, and the cooking, and the sweetness, and you driving me down here, I really do. But I think it’s best if you go.”

“Lotte—”

“Please, Noah. Claire or Marty or the police can take me home. Just go. Please.” I look at him, or give him the chance to respond. Vomit rises in my throat as I turn and walk away from the one person I want most to run to.

A tiny office in a run down, now destroyed, skate rink has no right to look as appealing. On the small table propped against the far wall and stabilized by two phone books from the 90‘s, cup after cup of promised coffee, sit beside a tray of freshly cut sandwiches, a bucket of ribs, a platter of sushi and one of donuts.

A small portable heater rattles to within an inch of its life, doing its best to pump out sorely needed heat. And then there’s Claire. It’s three am and she’s dressed in matching pink sweats, her hair is swept up with pom-pom decorated space buns, and she smiles like it’s the best day ever while doling out emotional and food-based nourishment to a few of the attending officers. Even if the heater should fail, the aura of empathetic joy that surrounds her would be enough to keep the place warm for days.

Snatching a coffee from the table, I pop the lid, breathe in the Lord’s best aroma and shuffle over to my friend, leaning in, resting my head against her arm. “You just can’t help yourself, can you? All this.” With a nod, I motion toward the buffet, “Did you reorganize Marty’s desk, too?”

On a shy grin, Claire looks over my shoulder at the desk I honestly had no idea was white. “How did you know I cleaned?” she asks, blushing for the first time in our acquaintance.

“I’ve never seen it without five years of paperwork and at least six empty cups covering every inch. It looks great, Claire. But I must warn you. Marty is a big fan of organized chaos. He will complain he can’t find anything, and he will complain loudly.”

“He’s already tried and already been shut down. My flawless filing system has been explained, and approval has been given. I’ve started the insurance claim and am already thinking of ways to get this place back up and running.”

“You’re incredible.”

“Eh,” she shrugs her shoulders and gives me a squeezing hug. “It’s the least I can do. I feel partly responsible.”

“Claire, the fault lies with me and me alone.”

“You may have left the building unlocked, Lot, but you did it because my brother’s been pining after you like bloodhound on the scent of a T-bone since your birthday. And I should have done more to stop it. None of this would have happened if he hadn’t been with you, and he wouldn’t have been with you if I hadn’t introduced you.” Leaning forward, she rests her palms on her thighs and inhales deeply. It’s the most frazzled I’ve seen her; the woman is bordering on hyperventilation, and it stings more the radiating burn between my fingers as I rub circles on her back.

“You know what? We can play this game all night, but ultimately, Noah’s actions are Noah’s, and mine are mine. Distracted or not, I’m the one who left without locking up. This is my cross to bear.”

There is an argument sitting on the tip of her tongue when she raised her eyes to mine. I see it clear as day, but like me, she’s too exhausted to pursue it any further. Instead, she shuffles to a chair, collapses into it and pulls me into the one beside her.

“Speaking of Noah,” she sighs, dropping her head to my shoulder. “Where is the giant freak? I have questions about him ditching me at that shit-show of a game. And why was he at your house in the middle of the night?”

Deciding the less she knows the better, I give her a fraction of the truth. “He has an early training session with Brady tomorrow, so I told him to go home.”

Surprised, Claire tilts her head. “And he listened?”

“Seems so. Unless he’s out there, sulking in his truck.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” we sing in unison and relief washes over me when she releases a sleepy chuckle. It doesn’t last long.

“And?”

I stiffen in my seat. “And what?”

“Why did he lose it at the game? All that Ryan kid did was smirk when I asked him. And for the love of fuck, if it’s the reason I think it is spare me the details.”

Time for yet another half-truth. “I’m not one hundred percent sure what happened at the game. I left because I wasn’t feeling well, but once a week I prepare meals for my building residents. Noah was helping me.”

“Okay, but how did he know about the meal prep, and how did the game not come up while doing the prep?”

“Oh, um. Quinn was supposed to come over, but she and Brady were getting pretty messy at O’Reilly’s, so Noah offered to help instead. I think he was worried she’d slice a finger instead of a carrot. You know what he’s like, always so overprotective of everyone. As for the game, he was pretty upset and asked not to talk about it.” I’m not really sure my perceptive friend is buying a word of it, but after a moment of narrow eyed contemplation, she lets it drop.

Another thirty minutes pass before we are given the all clear to leave by the police. Claire drives Marty home, then me. It’s a tension filled drive devoid of the usual laughter that’s become the hallmark of our friendship, and we both know why. She’s dying to probe and I’m equally desperate to conceal.

When I finally trudge up the stairs, down the hall and enter my sanctuary, remnants of an unforgettable night are scattered everywhere, but I’m too tired and sore to even contemplate cleaning up.

Instead, I fall into the bed Noah d me in so deliciously earlier, lying awake till the sun comes up, then, when I can’t fight it any more, surrendering my body over the writhing, seizure-like movements of an attack I’ve been suppressing for hours.