Page 38 of Soft Rebound (Mad City Moments #2)

Liz

I see a note at the door from the landlord, letting me know that the lease renewal is up. The lease isn’t up until August, but they want to know a few months early whether we’ll be leaving or not.

The lease isn’t even mine, but I wouldn’t mind staying.

I contact Melanie to ask how she wants to do it.

If she’s okay with me taking over, what happens with the furniture.

She writes back quickly, saying that she’s happy to have me take over and that I can have all the furniture at a nominal price since she’s not going to use it anymore.

She’s already moved all of her personal items to her new home in a small town near Madison.

This place, such as it is, is mine if I want it. My place. My furniture. Mine to decorate as I see fit.

Well, Bobby’s and mine, I suppose.

He and Trey were on shaky legs for a little bit after Bobby came out to our parents, but they seem stronger than ever now. Bobby spends most nights at Trey’s, even during the week. Bobby started to work at a small private auto repair shop similar to our dad’s. He seems to like it all right.

And Joe and I have spent every night together over the past three months.

Which is why I am surprised when, instead of coming over after work on a Thursday night, Joe texts me instead.

Joe: I’m not feeling too great

Raincheck?

Liz: Sorry you’re not feeling well! sick face with thermometer emoji

How did meeting with Lance go?

Joe: I’m sorry, I can’t talk about it right now

We’ll talk tomorrow

Liz: Okay. Feel better! Good night winky kissy face emoji

Joe: Good night sparkling red heart emoji

I spend the evening cleaning and reading, but there is a ball of dread spinning in my stomach, getting larger and heavier by the minute.

Joe is usually the one who bends over backwards to make sure we end up spending the night in the same bed. Staying away is very much out of character for him. Maybe he’s really sick.

I keep reassuring myself that it’s not a big deal. People don’t have to see each other every day. But the thing is, Joe and I do; we see each other every day. Joe, normal Joe, would come over and let me pamper him if he’s feeling unwell.

The fact that he hasn’t gone out of his way to see me today means something happened. Something bad.

Maybe he’s already tired of me. Because people get tired of me.

The thought chills me to my core.

Not again.

****

T he next day, I send Joe a couple of texts. His responses are delayed and terse, not like him at all.

Liz: How are you feeling? Did you come to work?

Joe: I’m fine, thanks

I push him.

Liz: What happened last night? With Lance?

I see the typing bubble appear and disappear several times. Ultimately, no text arrives.

Liz: I take it you don’t wanna talk about it?

I wait for a response for a long time. The ball of dread within me spins faster and faster.

Joe: I need a little more time

I will talk to you soon

Liz: Okay

Take all the time you need

I put the phone aside and try to breathe through my nose. My gut painfully churns.

I know— I know —that this might be nothing. I know Joe and I’ve been doing great, and I shouldn’t jump to conclusions.

But it doesn’t feel like nothing. It feels like things are falling apart, and here I am again, for the second time in less than a year, completely in the dark when the man I care about starts to pull away.

I’m such an idiot.

I need to get it together.

Breathe, Liz. Breathe. In. And out. In. Out.

Eventually, I feel enough like myself to pick up the phone and text Roxie.

Liz: We need to get wasted tonight. My place

She responds immediately. Of course. Is everything okay?

Liz: Joe’s avoiding me and I don’t know why

I feel awful and want to drink and see if it helps

Roxie: Say no more. Tonight’s libations are on me

****

B obby is getting ready to go somewhere with Trey when Roxie arrives.

“You ladies having a sleepover?” Bobby asks.

He looks great in tight navy-blue pants, leather shoes, a nice button-up, and a jacket with an interesting pattern.

If someone had told me a year ago that my grease-covered, trucker-hat-wearing brother would be described as stylish, I would’ve died of laughter. Yet, that’s exactly what he is.

Roxie is unpacking all the stuff she’s brought—pizza, beer, tequila, a margarita mix, and two pints of ice cream. “We’re going to drink alcohol, eat junk, and badmouth your sister’s boyfriend,” she says.

Bobby focuses on me, his face pinched in a frown. “What happened? I thought you and the big guy were solid.”

“You and me both,” I say, shrugging. “He’s been blowing me off, so perhaps I should take a hint and consider myself dumped. Again.”

Bobby shakes his head. “That doesn’t sound right. Something’s going on.”

“I’m not going to beg anyone to be with me. I’m done being an idiot.”

“I wish I could just decide to not be an idiot,” Roxie says somewhat wistfully.

The buzzer from downstairs goes off. “It’s Trey,” Bobby says as he lets him in. “He might know what’s going on.”

“What’s going on,” I say, “is that my good friend Roxanne and I will eat and drink and watch some trashy TV, and then it’s gonna be the weekend, and then life will go on.”

Trey arrives soon and he and Bobby share a brief, sweet kiss.

“Lizzie. Roxie,” Trey greets each of us with a nod. “How’s it going?”

Roxie raises a slice of pizza and a beer in a two-handed salute.

Trey looks around. “Where’s Joe?”

“He’s blowing off Lizzie all of a sudden,” Bobby says. “Do you know what’s going on?”

Trey shakes his head. “Not really. But he’s been completely out of it all day today, like he hadn’t had a wink of sleep. He looks like a zombie, the way he did before he met Liz.”

“And you have no idea what happened?”

“Nope. Just that he met with that ex-brother-in-law of his yesterday. Maybe some more news about his ex. That always throws him for a loop.”

Shit.

Roxie reaches out to rub my arm. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”

“I was a just rebound for him after all,” I say, my voice small and shaky. I hate it. I hate how tiny and defeated I sound. “She must be getting married or something, and he’s not over her.”

“I don’t think that’s it,” Trey says. “I mean, she is getting married and he’s known about it for months now. He didn’t seem like he cared very much. It really didn’t seem to bother him.”

“What then?” I hate the note of desperation in my tone.

“I really don’t know, Lizzie,” Trey says. “You should talk to him.”

“He doesn’t want to talk.”

Trey walks over to me and grabs both my hands. “Make him talk to you,” he says. “He’s crazy about you. I mean it. You’ve made him so happy. So happy. Everyone sees it. You have no idea how he was before. I don’t know what happened, but it has nothing to do with how much he cares about you.”

I lower my eyes and don’t respond.

Roxie pats Trey on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, boys, I’ve got her. Go have fun.”

“Do you need me to come back tonight?” Bobby asks. “I was planning to stay at Trey’s, but I can come back—”

I wave him off. “No, of course not. Go enjoy yourselves. I’ve got booze. And ice cream. And Roxie. I’ll be okay.”

Trey gives me a kiss on the cheek, Bobby gives me a brief hug, and then they cast their final glances, looking slightly guilty that they’re leaving, and they’re off.

****

S ix episodes of Scrubs , one whole pizza, four margaritas, and half a joint in, followed by a second pizza and two beers to battle the munchies, Roxie decides I’m relaxed enough to interrogate.

“Tell me what the hell is going on,” she says.

“I told you, I don’t know. Joe’s avoiding me and I’m taking a hint.”

“So you will just give up without getting to the bottom of this?”

“That seems to be my lot in life,” I say. “People get bored with me and that’s it. Took Jake seven years. Only a few months for Joe.”

“He did not get bored with you. That’s not like him at all. Something’s up.”

I shrug. “That’s what I would’ve thought until yesterday. But not today.”

Roxie takes a swig of her mostly empty beer. “I am the least qualified person in the world to give relationship advice.”

“So don’t.”

She throws her hands up in the air. “I have to! Because even I can see that what’s about to happen is monumentally stupid!”

I just shrug.

“I don’t know what’s up with Joe,” she continues, “but I’ve seen you together, and you’re obviously crazy about each other. Anyone can see that. It’s a little nauseating, really, how fucking cute you two are.”

I shrug again.

“Listen to me.” She leans forward. “You can’t let him do a one-eighty without an explanation. You have to figure out what happened.”

“No, I don’t. I survived just fine without Jake’s explanation. Honestly, I’d have liked him better if he’d never shown up after the breakup.”

“And then he showed up wanting you back.”

“Unfortunately. When Bethany didn’t work out.”

“He didn’t dump you because you were boring.

You are not boring.” She turns her head to the side, takes a deep breath, and floors me with her gaze.

“Listen, I’m going to give it to you straight, and I apologize in advance if I’m being too direct or rude, but we both know I am mostly feral.

You have got to be the bigger person here.

You are the one who’s presently on more solid ground.

If you care for this man, you will swallow your pride and your insecurity and you will find him and shake him until he tells you what happened and what’s caused him to pull back from you so dramatically. ”

I pout. “But I don’t want to. It feels ... humiliating.”

“Why? Why is it humiliating?”

“He obviously doesn’t want me. I’m not going to beg.”

“It’s not obvious. Nothing is obvious. You are entitled to some sort of explanation after you’ve been joined at the hip for months now.”

I roll the beer between my fingers and say nothing.

“I’m going to ask you a few questions.”

“Okay.”

“Do you love him?”

I look at her stunned. “Do I love Joe?”

She nods.

“I don’t know.”

“So, how do you feel about him?”

“I am fucking hurt and disappointed and ashamed.”

“How did you feel about him yesterday morning?”

“I don’t know, Roxie.”

“Listen, Liz, this is important. How. Do. You. Feel about him?”

“I don’t know, okay? I am so hurt right now that I can’t see beyond that! It’s all ... broken now!”

She puts her hands up. “Okay. Calm down. Let me ask you this—do you guys laugh together?”

“We do. All the time. We crack each other up.”

“And how are your tastes in movies and music and other stuff?”

“Yeah, we both like comedies and action movies and police procedurals. We both love the Vikings. We always have a good time.”

“How about when you need him for anything? Like when Jake came over? Was Joe there for you?”

“Yeah, he was great. He’s been really great about Jake, and about Bobby moving here. He’s been thoughtful and respectful and he always has my back.”

“Aha. Now, how is the sex?”

“Roxie!” I blush.

“You’re not a kid, Liz. It’s a perfectly normal question. How’s the sex between you and Joe?”

“Amazing,” I say quietly.

Roxie curls her hand around her ear, pretending she needs it to hear better. “Come again? How is the sex with Joseph Larson, Esquire?”

I lose my patience and throw my hands up.

“It’s fucking amazing, okay? It’s by far the best sex I’ve ever had.

I honestly didn’t think it could even be like that, and he makes me feel everything, in my body and all over, it’s this all-encompassing experience, and we’re always so connected, I know he’s right there with me, in every moment, it’s so .

.. transcendental. Especially when it’s absolutely filthy. ”

Roxie grins like the cat who got in the cream. “Well, then.”

“What?”

“You’re totally in love with the guy.”

“I’m not!”

“Yes, you are. And I bet he is, too.”

I stick out my lower lip in a pout. I do not appreciate her making sense right now.

“Whatever. You’ll figure it out soon enough. Both of you. When you’re not so acutely terrified of getting hurt again.”

Running my index finger around the mouth of my bottle, I glance at her sideways. “How do you even know I’m in love?”

“Because what you’ve just described? I’ve never felt that. Not once. Not ever. So that must be what it is, then.”

I didn’t feel any of this for Jake either. I mean, it came close, and I was young and so, so grateful for the attention, and he wasn’t bad in bed or anything, but it’s never been like how it is with Joe.

“Look, I don’t think sexual chemistry is everything,” says Roxie, sounding way too sober for how much we’ve both had to drink.

“But it sounds like you have a real connection, and you have fun together, and he supports you and has your back when it matters... That sounds like it’s the real deal, Liz. The realest.”

My chest tightens. Deep within, I’ve known that for a while. It’s real. Very real. And it’s already too late to avoid getting hurt.

“Something happened yesterday,” Roxie continues. “I don’t know Joe all that well, but my guess is that whatever happened might’ve triggered one of his major fears, or uncovered a major pain. If you know what that is, then you can probably figure out what happened.”

She has a point and I’m too drunk to argue with her, and too sad to even try. So I just nod.

She leans over to squeeze my knee. “Promise me you will go talk to him.”

I look up but don’t say anything.

“Promise me!”

“I promise!” I say, sounding a little put upon. Or maybe just tipsy. “I promise I will text him tomorrow and figure out what’s going on.”

“No, not text. Face to face. Go to his place. Ambush him.”

“I’m not going to ambush him! It sounds unfair.”

“All is fair in love and war.”

I roll my eyes. “Okay, John Lyly.”

“Who the hell is John Lyly?”

“The poet who first said that.”

“How could you ever say you’re boring?”

I chuckle. “You’re just too easily amused.”

“One of my best qualities, so I’m told.”

“Only you would pluck a half-mute, terrified accountant from a Qpik bathroom and befriend them.”

“I’ve got a good nose for good people,” she says. “And you’re good people.”

I legit tear up now. “Come here,” I say, and Roxie comes closer so I can hug her. “One day, there will be a guy who’ll knock your socks off.”

“But I like keeping my socks on,” Roxie jokes. I squeeze her tight before I let her go.