Page 82 of Tulips and Lost Time

Because he’s in town now, ready to set up his life and hopefully—if he can manage it—work out of the same hospital Kari does.

Too bad for him, he doesn’t know X, and X isn’t inclined to open doors for some dude whose nickname is Ten.

I pull up outside the girls’ apartment, the lights inside switched on and the blinds closed. Though the summer is still clinging to our side of the world, which means the sun is still up.

But Kari’s apartment is closed up, which means the air conditioner is on and the inside will be blissfully cool.

Fuck knows who the girls think will pay their electricity bill.

But that’s a problem for next month.

I kick the stand down on my bike and lean the machine to the side until it’s steady, then bringing my leg across the tattered leather seat, I stand tall on the hard packed dirt and turn to study the apartment that smells of flowers already. Perfume. Cookies.

Shacking four girly women up in one building and expecting them not to girl all over the place is like filling a room with shit and not expecting it to stink.

It’s impossible.

But I can’t find a single slice of my soul that minds the perfumes and flowers and the all-encompassing fragrance that hits a man in the face, even all the way back on the street.

I like how it smells.

Dropping my hands into my pockets, and with them, my keys, I lower my head and start toward the concrete stairs at the front. A beat-up Camry sits in the driveway. A car I haven’t seen except one other time in my life, parked on the street in front of a packed Thai restaurant.

I didn’t know then that Blake owned it. But now, the evidence is clear.

Worse, he’s here, and Marc’s certainty that he’s as straight as a pretzel quivers in the back of my mind. What if Blake is actually into women? What if he’s actually into Kari? And what if, right now, they’re up there doing what couples actually do when they have time alone after a few days apart?

My palms slick with sweat, and the closer I come to the front door, the harder my heart pounds with hesitation. Could I see her with him again and not lose my mind? Will my memory be branded with a new trauma and my soul, shredded just a little more?

My phone vibrates in my back pocket. A call demanding my attention. A chance, possibly, for me to turn around and walk away before I make things worse. The universe may be offering me this out before I kill a man and destroy the future I want so badly with Kari.

But I ignore the olive branch offered.

I cast aside the mercies the universe might be trying to shove in my way. And instead, I clamp my lips shut and stomp up the front stairs to the door Kari hides behind.

Maybe he’s there. And maybe they’re fucking around. My heavy footsteps, at least, will alert them to put some clothes on.

It’s the least I can ask for.

“What the—” Kari’s voice dances on the gentle breeze. Her question beats out even the drone of the air conditioner that spits boiling air from a motor working triple time to cool an apartment. I don’t even have to knock once I arrive at the top of the stairs because my steps are as loud as a fist banging on the door, and because they are, Kari shoves her blinds aside and stares out the window.

She searches for only a second. A single, tiny beat of my heart. Then her eyes lock on to mine and narrow.

“Luca! Go away.”

“Let me in, Bear.” She’s dressed. She’s decent. And she’s still pissed. I can work with that. “I want to come in and hang out.”

“You are clearly delusional!” She glances over her shoulder, reacting when a deep male voice questions my presence. Gay, straight or something else, the dude would surely know who the fuck I am. No way he’s sleeping over in an apartment with Kari, Britt, and the twins, and they haven’t mentioned me. “If you don’t leave,” she brings her focus back, “I’m gonna call the cops!”

“Do it.” I come to a stop by the door and rest on my heels. “X is cooking dinner for the twins right now. Bet he’d love to take your call.”

“I’ll call the station, stupid! X is not on duty, which means I’ll get one of the others. Bet they’d love to arrest you.”

“So make the call.” I lift my shoulders and shrug, smiling when her eyes narrow to dangerous slits. “Libby’s on duty, I think. She and I have always been pals.” Ish. Mostly, I think, she tolerates me, and when I’m riding my bike across town, she gives my un-helmeted head a beady stare. “Call the cops, Bear. Or open the door and let me in. I wanna talk.”

“I’m not letting you in! I have guests right now!”

“Your guest is Blake, and I assure you, he won’t mind that I’m here.”

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