to help it, he asked, “So why didn’t you call me back?”
Her eyes widened in shock. “Call you…What do you mean?”
“I gave your father my number and asked him to have you call me in California. I even offered to fly to Chicago to explain and to apologize to you and your family in person.”
She lifted a hand to her face, rubbing her eyes, sighing audibly. “I didn’t get that part of the message.” Shaking her head, she said, “My mother was the one who told me you’d called to apologize, but nothing else. I guess my father only told her what he wanted either of us to hear, because I know she wouldn’t have kept that from me.”
Seth wasn’t sure whether he felt better, or worse. Part of him was relieved she hadn’t chosen to ignore him for the past decade. Another part hated that she’d been manipulated by her own father, as he had by his. Of course, hers had almost certainly been doing it for her own good. His…not so much.
“That’s a lot of lost years due to other people’s interference,” he mumbled, talking as much to himself as to her.
“Maybe we needed them in order to grow up.”
“Maybe.” Then, getting to the point that had brought him here, he added, “So do you think you can forgive me for running out on you without a word?”
Lauren stared at him across the table. Her eyes were decidedly glassy now, and she was nibbling her bottom lip. The hand that continued to toy with the rim of her glass shook.
But her words were steady. Absolutely certain.
“I can. And I do, Seth. You’re forgiven.”
He nodded slowly and replied, “Thank you.”
LAUREN HADN’T TOTALLY understood how much her acceptance of Seth’s apology meant to him until she saw the way he sagged back in his chair in relief. He looked like a criminal who’d been forgiven by his victim.
In truth, he’d been the victim…of unscrupulous parents, of time, of distance, of her resentment and her father’s over-protectiveness. She wanted to cry for him, and for Emily. They hadn’t even talked about what had happened later. Were his parents in prison? Still on the run? How had he ended up working as a sports agent and how had Emily ended up back here in Illinois?
There were a lot of questions still to be answered. But right now, she didn’t want to ask them. She just wanted to sit here, enjoying the soft music and his company, letting herself believe, for the first time in ten years, that he really had, at one time, cared about her. She wasn’t going to call it love—eighteen-year-old guys didn’t really understand that concept as far as she was concerned. But he’d cared. And that mattered to her. A lot.
“So how’s your life been?” he finally asked with a wry chuckle, breaking the silence.
She laughed with him. “Not bad. I live in Georgia now.”
His jaw dropped. “Seriously? I can’t picture you as a slow-talking, languid Southern belle.”
A hint of an accent had crept into his remark, and she responded in kind. “Why, suh, you wound me. Ah’m a genteel Georgia peach.”
His laughter turned into a snort. “You might have a Georgia zip code, but your blood’s all Chicago speed and energy.”
Maybe. Probably. She definitely wasn’t happy with her job, and hadn’t been since her much-loved boss, Mimi, had left the grocery store chain her family owned. Frankly, laying out ads for canned green beans and dog food hadn’t been what she’d had in mind when she’d gotten her marketing degree.
Seth’s open smile and easy charm made him so easy to talk to that she found herself telling him all about it. He soon had her spilling her guts about her life, everywhere she’d been in the past ten years, every address, job…and relationship.
Those hadn’t been hard to talk about—they’d been few and far between. But the conversation had opened the door, and since turnabout was fair play, she eventually asked, “What about you? No Mrs. Crowder back in L.A., I take it?”
He almost choked on his drink. Setting it down, he leaned over the table and said, “You really think I’d have tracked you down and tried so desperately to make things right with you if I had a wife?”
Not wanting to read too much into his words, which made it sound as though he’d come here for more than an apology, she kept her tone light. “It’s possible. Maybe you’re doing some kind of twelve-step program and making amends is part of it.”
He gestured toward his empty martini glass. “If so, I’m doing a pretty shitty job with the rest of the program.”
“True.”
“I came here because I wanted the chance to explain, to make sure you understood. I’ve been angry at my parents for a lot of reasons for a lot of years.”
“I don’t blame you.”
He went on as if she hadn’t spoken. “But close to the top of the list is that they cost me you.” His jaw clenched and his hand tightened on his glass. His voice low, he added, “They cost me the night we were supposed to share after the prom.”
Lauren’s heart skipped a beat. She’d been letting down her guard, enjoying being with him, remembering how wonderful Seth had been to talk to. She’d almost forgotten the sexual tension that swam between them when they were together. Now she was reminded of it. His lips parted as he breathed across them, his eyes narrowed as he swept a thorough stare over her hair, her face, her throat, her chest. Oh, yeah, there was lots of tension.
He looked away. “Sorry.”
He wanted her. Still. There was no denying it. Maybe he had come here for forgiveness, but he’d also come here because of the sex they’d never had.
Was there anything men wanted more than the one who got away? She didn’t think so. Funny, though, she wasn’t offended by it. In fact, she had to take a moment to pull her thoughts back in order, and decide what she was feeling. She’d been telling herself, ever since she’d heard his voice at the registration desk, that Seth being here was a bad thing. Feeling the electricity zapping between them during that oh-so-brief kiss when she’d caught him outside her room had reinforced that idea.
Now, though, she couldn’t decide if things had gotten better or worse. She had forgiven him, she did understand and she was still incredibly attracted to him. As he, apparently, was to her.
Could she have him, though? They barely knew each other anymore, with a decade’s worth of resentment and misery between them. They lived on opposite sides of the country for heaven’s sake!
Still, he wasn’t talking about a relationship, about love. He was talking about sex. About attraction, curiosity, regret and the need to finally have something they’d both been denied.
She wouldn’t have trusted declarations of love, not after all this time. But sexual desire? That she could trust. That she could rely on. That she could even indulge.
“It meant that much to you?”
“Are you serious?”
She
