Chapter 2 #2
But I don’t want you to just be proud of me, I want to say. I want you to look at me as a woman and not just some little sister to take care of.
I don’t tell him that, though.
After a few seconds of silence, he picks up my plate and hands it to me. “Eat,” he urges. “And I’ll tell you about Gus.”
“How is Gus?” I met him while he was staying in L.A. with Memphis, but I’ve only seen photos in the ten months since then. “Has he caught any more mice?”
Memphis chuckles. “Last month he got one. It was in the basement. Not sure how the bugger got in, since I sealed everything up last spring.”
“I’ve heard that mice can fit through an opening the size of a dime,” I reply. “Back when I was a kid, I had a pet mouse that escaped. My dad searched everywhere for it. After three days, he finally found it inside a dresser. We couldn’t figure out how it got in there.”
“Was the mouse still alive?”
“He was. Little Mickey lived for another two years after that.”
“That’s nice.” Memphis absently strokes his thumb across my palm. “Having a memory like that with your dad.”
“Yeah.” I pause. “How is Marian? Is she still in Sacramento?”
He nods. “She is. Just got a promotion, and she’s thinking about adopting a dog.” He glances around the apartment. “Have you given any more thought to getting one?”
“I work too much. It wouldn’t be fair.”
He nods. “I guess you’re right.” After a thoughtful silence, he asks, “Have you heard from your mom lately?”
“She texted last month. She and Edgar were planning a trip to Cabo.”
My mom and I have never been close, and once I turned eighteen, she was more than ready to move on with her own life. Now she lives in Florida with her new husband, and by unspoken agreement, we rarely see each other.
Memphis doesn’t understand. Though he’s never said it, he thinks my mom should be more supportive. He was aghast when she refused to come out to L.A. in the aftermath of my rescue, claiming that she was too busy with her part-time job at the local yoga studio.
It didn’t bother me nearly as much. After all, I was used to her not caring. And I had Memphis, who was more than enough.
“Hmph.” Memphis huffs. “She should at least—” He stops.
“So Gus,” I press. “What about the fresh catnip? Does he still love it? And what about the toys I got for him?”
His frown lifts into a smile. “He’s obsessed with the toys. Carries those bananas wherever he goes. The other day, I found two in my sheets.”
I laugh. “In your sheets?”
Memphis grins. “I think they were supposed to be presents. Which would have been nice had they not been all wet with cat drool.”
“I’ll buy more of them,” I offer. Without thinking, I add, “I’d love to see him again.”
“Gus?”
Oops. In all the time I’ve known Memphis, he’s only ever come to see me. I’ve never been to his place, not because I don’t want to, but because he’s never asked. “Nevermind. Just… maybe take a video or something. If you don’t mind.”
I hurry to change the subject. “How’s work? Have you had any crazy clients recently?”
“Cailin.” He turns my hand over in his. “Do you want to visit me?”
I duck my head. “Not if you don’t want me to.”
The silence that follows is almost unbearable.
“It’s not that,” he finally says. “I didn’t think you’d want to travel. And…” He sighs. “Shit.”
“I’m sorry. Forget I said anything.”
His finger touches my chin, tilting my head back up to look at him. “It’s not that I don’t want you to visit. It’s just…”
But he doesn’t. I’m just some woman he feels obligated to check on whenever he’s in town. And once he’s gone, I’m out of his mind again.
Why does he text, then? Why does he send gifts? Why does he stay at the restaurant until closing every time he visits instead of finishing his meal and leaving?
“I get it,” I manage through a thickening throat. “You know, I’m kind of tired…”
“Cailin.” His expression turns fierce. “You don’t get it. I would love for you to visit.”
Hope sparks. “You would?”
He stares at me. An emotion I’ve never seen before works in his gaze. “Of course I would. To show you my house, my helos, take you hiking… And Gus would love to see you.”
It’s so close to the fantasy I’ve been clinging to for longer than I want to admit. “I would love that, too.”
A burst of joy overtakes everything.
He wants me to visit. Wants me to see how he lives. He wouldn’t want that if he didn’t care. If he didn’t want me in his life.
He wants more, the silent voice cheers. He’s been waiting for the right time. And it’s finally here.
The burst of joy is why, before I can think it through, I lean in and kiss him.
And at first, it’s everything I dreamed of.
His lips are soft yet firm, accepting my kiss without being passive about it.
He tastes of mint from the sweet peppermints he snagged on our way out of the restaurant along with a rich, honeyed taste I’ll forever associate with him.
One big hand comes to my nape, then tunnels through my hair, setting off sparks of electricity that shoot through my body.
His other hand rests on my thigh, the heat of it searing through my pants and into my skin.
When I nip at Memphis’s lip, he makes a rough, needy sound. His fingers tighten in my hair; not painfully, but enough to show his desire.
As our kiss continues, a moan works its way up my throat.
My eyes flutter shut.
My body shouts its approval.
Yes, it cheers. Yes. It’s all you hoped it would be and more.
Except.
All too soon, Memphis pulls away from me.
Heart racing, I ask, “Was that okay?”
He stares at me. His expression is tortured.
“It was fine,” he says, but his tone says anything but. “I’m just not sure… I don’t think…” For the first time since I met him, Memphis seems uncertain. “It’s late. I should really get going. Early morning and all that.”
My joy is extinguished in an instant.
He doesn’t want me.
“Oh.” I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from crying. “Will you still text me when you get back. So I know you’re okay?”
“Of course.” He leans down to tuck my hair behind my ear. “And I’ll look into that guy at the restaurant. Make sure he doesn’t bother you again.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I want to.” He gives my shoulder a little squeeze. “Finish that sandwich. Get a good night’s sleep. And make sure to lock the doors behind me.”
“Okay,” I whisper, feeling more alone than I have in almost a year. “Be safe.”
Something that looks a lot like guilt darkens his gaze. “You too.”