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We stared at each other for a long moment—and I would kill before I admitted it—but my eyes totally welled up. I cleared my throat and pushed off the counter.
“Thanks, Rome. Now I gotta go see if I still have a girlfriend or if I managed to drink myself single last night.”
I was thinking about his words as I dialed Shaw’s number only to be sent to voice mail. I just had to let her love me; I wasn’t sure how to go about that but I knew whatever I was doing now wasn’t working. After her recorded greeting I left a gruff message.
“Hey, it’s me. I suck and I’m sorry. I should have called. I’m sure you were worried and if you had pulled that shit with me, I would have been climbing the walls. Really, I don’t have an excuse other than things have been off with us for a little bit and I’m trying to figure it out. Call me when you get this if you want. I’ll see you later tonight. I’m really sorry and I promise to stop trying to do things different when the old way was working just fine.”
I didn’t know what her response was going to be, I only knew that I had screwed up and I hoped it wasn’t too late to fix it. I finished getting ready for work without hearing from her. I burned through my first two appointments with no word from Shaw and I was starting to worry. I knew she had class today, but that didn’t normally stop her from hitting me up between sessions. I was tempted to call her again, but worried what getting sent to voice mail again would do to me, since I was already hanging on by a thread. I was cleaning up my final appointment of the day when I finally got a text from her:
I’ll see you at dinner.
That’s was all. There was no “I forgive you,” no “Yes, you suck, now let’s kiss and make up,” no “Everybody makes mistakes,” no “I’m so glad we’re getting things back to normal,” just “I’ll see you at dinner.” What was I supposed to do with that? This having a girlfriend business was starting to make my head hurt and I longed for the days when we were cordial enemies who only spent a few hours a week together. That wasn’t remotely true, but it made me feel a little better as I plodded home and changed into something that wouldn’t give my mom a fit.
I put on gray Dickies and a button-down plaid shirt with pearl snaps on it and changed out my studded leather belt for a plain black one. I left my boots on and made sure my unruly hair had just enough product in it to keep it a semi-styled mess. I still looked like me, just a me that my dad wouldn’t razz and my mom wouldn’t bitch about. I had to admit that I wanted Shaw to see that I could clean it up when the occasion called for it, but my head was so twisted where she was concerned, I tried not to spend too much time thinking about what her reaction would be when we finally saw each other.
Rome and I climbed into the truck to head to dinner. I could tell he was nervous by his silence on the ride down to the restaurant and I honestly couldn’t blame him since the last family get-together had gone so smashingly. To date, Mom still didn’t believe that she held any responsibility for the family rift. I wasn’t sure that meeting in public and having all this extra tension between Shaw and me was going to be a recipe for success, but I was determined to give Rome the send-off he deserved, and not let him leave disappointed in me or with too many reasons to worry about those he loved.
We parked in a crowded lot and shoved a couple dollars in the payment kiosk. As we made our way to the busy restaurant, we could see Mom and Dad waiting out front with Shaw. My breath quickened and something in my chest flipped over at the sight of her. It had only been a few days, but seeing her now I suddenly felt like we had spent years apart. She had changed her hair in the time that had passed; it was now drastically two-toned and looked badass next to her pale skin and bright eyes. Her cheeks were red from the cold and her green eyes were guarded as we got close. I could see my mom had a near death grip on Shaw’s arm and that she wasn’t exactly overjoyed with our arrival. Rome leaned in and kissed both of them on the cheek and shook Dad’s hand before moving to pull open the door. I opted for a chin lift and a raised eyebrow in Shaw’s direction.
“Hey.”
The corners of her mouth pulled down and my mom flat-out ignored me. “Hey. Let’s go inside, I’m freezing.” She let my mom pull her along and a little sliver of anger started to spark under my skin, but this wasn’t about me so I tried to tamp it down as my dad cupped me on the back of the neck and gave me a little shake. It was a gesture that made me feel like I was ten years old again, which was funny since I was about six inches taller than him now.
“This is a good thing for all of us, kiddo. Just be patient and we’ll all get better at being a unit again.”
“It’s just dinner, Dad. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
“Well, we have to walk before we run, son, and as of now the Archers are barely managing a staggering limp. All we can do is move forward.”
I didn’t know what to say to that so I just kept my mouth shut and watched Shaw’s shapely form as the hostess guided our group to a table in the back of the building. My mom was jabbering nonstop at Shaw and she was occasionally nodding and making noises of agreement, but what she wasn’t doing at all was looking at me or acknowledging me in any way. The anger was starting to turn from a smolder to a burn. If something didn’t give soon, I was bound to do something I would regret later.
At the table, I ended up sandwiched between my brother and my girlfriend. One was looking at me warningly, and the other was watching me with eyes shrouded in sadness and accusation—two things I didn’t understand. I was ready to say the hell with it to get some answers. I didn’t get the chance because as soon as I turned to Shaw, the waitress appeared and we were busy ordering drinks. My mom once again hijacked all Shaw’s attention.
Just to test the waters, I put a hand on her thigh under the table and felt her tense at my touch. I waited for her to move or to pry it off with her own hand but she didn’t even stop the flow of conversation with my mom. It was obvious that they had missed each other. I felt a stab of guilt that, because of her loyalty and feelings for me, Shaw had missed out on a relationship she obviously appreciated. I let my dad and brother draw me into a conversation about the Broncos and kept an eye on Shaw as we ordered dinner. She never moved my hand but she never once looked my way, either. I didn’t know what to make of it. I was grateful, however, that as long as my mom was focused on her she didn’t so much as bat an eyelash in my direction, allowing the dinner to go as smoothly as it could, considering the circumstances. Dad ordered a bottle of champagne with dessert and before it showed up my mom went to use the restroom, finally giving Shaw a chance to turn and look at me. When she did her mouth was tight and her superlight eyebrows were furrowed over her eyes.
“We need to talk.”
My own eyebrows shot up so hard they pulled against the hoops pierced there. “That’s kind of hard to do when you won’t answer the phone when I call and you make up lame-ass excuses to avoid spending time with me.”
I saw her flinch and she leaned closer so that our heads were bent near each other. She hissed in a tone low enough that only I could hear, “Well, excuse me for not knowing what to say to you, considering the last time we didn’t talk for a few days you stuck your tongue down the first willing girl’s throat. I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I feel like you’re turning into a stranger and I hate it.”
I scowled at her and tightened my fingers on her leg. “Do you trust me at all? Geez, Shaw, maybe I was just trying to be a better boyfriend—one who doesn’t flip out over stupid shit all the time and one who isn’t in jail while your psycho ex is still on the prowl? Maybe I was