Page 11 of When We Meet Again

“Go. Please. I need…” A soft sob escapes her. “I need some time. I’m sorry.”

I slide on my jacket and walk toward her and the door that’s wide open. “There is nothing you need to apologize for. Stop apologizing when people makeyoufeel a certain way. You know where I am if you need me.” I want nothing more than to hug her. To go back in time to fifteen minutes ago before I scared her off, but that’s not possible either.

CHAPTER 7

WAVERLY

Fortunate: I bought a plant today. Having plants indoors promotes healthy living.

Unfortunate: A ten-year-old dog was just surrendered to the shelter because her family said she’s getting too old.

I fucked up.I’ll be the first to admit it. Roman’s proposal—well, not an actual proposal, but an offer to help me with my to-do list—spooked me, and my walls went up. But Tom is right. I do need to start going with the flow. I’ve lost years of my life, and every year I lost more and more of myself. Waverly’s identity became Patrick and Waverly’s identity. We were the equivalent of a dog and its owner looking alike, and it's pretty obvious which one of the two of us was the bitch. Except instead of looking alike, we started acting alike.No. I started acting like him. How he wanted me to: poised, put together, and always in control by never being willing to lose control. Never willing to have fun unless it was pre-planned. Even then, that version offunwas mundane.

Pacing back and forth in my kitchen for an hour isn’t going to help make anything better. It’s time to tear down those walls, and the first step is to apologize to Roman.

He told me I know where he is, which I’m only assuming is at the house he recently bought in Santa Monica. Patrick told me he had bought a beautiful piece of land with a home that’s perfect for him—whatever that means. I may or may not have dug through the junk drawer to find a piece of an envelope from an old Christmas card I ripped off that contained a return address label with his new location.

I pull off the main drag and drive through a long stretch of roadway that is decorated with rows of established California palms.

Large houses start lining the street. “Damn, these are nice.”

I glance at the GPS screen and at the house on the right. “Holy shit, Rome. You did good,” I say to myself.

It’s a modern Bungalow style with windows everywhere. Palm trees surround it with beautifully maintained landscaping.

“I wish I had a house instead of my tiny apartment,” I mumble as I pull into his driveway next to hisDucati?!I would expect nothing less of him. Patrick told me he’d bought a motorcycle, but insisted it was an old man bike. So I assumed he’d meant one with three wheels and more along the lines of a moped. But a Ducati?

“That’s hot.” I silently scold myself. “The bike. Not him on the bike.Not him.”

I throw the car in park and hop out. I’m not even sure what I’m going to say. I feel like a stalker.

Once my finger presses the doorbell, I feel instant regret. I shouldn’t be here. I should be at home, dealing with my shit or cleaning or something.

The door opens, but it’s not Roman’s face that greets me, but a beautiful young woman. She’s gorgeous. Natural face, barely any makeup, and no wrinkles around her eyes when she smiles at me.

“Can I help you?” she asks with enthusiasm.

I clear my throat. “Yes, I’m looking for Roman. I thought he lived here?” I try to glance past her, but she’s a bit taller than I am.

“Oh, you must be Roman’s aunt. He said you were stopping over.” Her hair bounces as she turns to call for him.

“Actually, I’m not his?—”

“Roman, your aunt’s here!” she shouts into the house.

I shouldn’t have come. It’s so obvious now more than ever that he really is just taking care of his older brother’s woman. “You know what? I’m just going to–” I thumb behind me toward…anywhere but here.

“My aunt? Already?” Roman shouts from deeper in the house.Jesus, get me out of here.

“Hey…Kensi?” He looks at the young woman with perky breasts. “This isn’t my aunt, Lena. This is…” he pauses. Did he forget my name in his post-sex haze?

“You know, I’m sorry I came. I just…I’ll go. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” I turn and head to my car.

I hear him say something to Perky Breasts and close the door. “Waverly, wait!”

He catches up to me as I reach my car. It’s not like I was walking too quickly. I had to stop to admire the pristine spacing between his line of Red Sister plants. Impeccable.

“Why’d you come?” He grabs my elbow and turns me to him. My gaze drops to where he’s touching me. His grip is full of pent-up tension. Not gentle enough to let me pull away, but not hard enough to hurt.I like it. Damnit, I like it.

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