Page 9 of Come Back To Me

A shit-eating grin spread across his pretty fucking face.Caught.

“What about both?”

I shook my head. “Doesn’t work that way.”

“Why not?”

“Because it doesn’t.”

“But what would you have to lose?”

I set down the rum bottle I was holding and stood in front of him, hands on my hips.

“Nothing. You’d lose. But, I’m not a cruel person, David. I don’t want to hurt people.”

“You’re not going to hurt me, Yara.” He said my name in the same way I’d said his: annoyed…condescending. I frowned at him. He had no idea what he was doing. Testosterone, lack of caution—the bull charging of men.

“So let me get this straight,” I said, looking around. “You want me to make you fall in love with me, and you’re giving me permission to leave and break your heart?”

He nodded.

“But you don’t think I’d actually leave, Lisey. You think you can change me, but that’s not how it works.”

He shrugged. “Let’s see how it plays out. Just come to our show. See what you think. Maybe you can help me, maybe you can’t. I don’t know how you decide these things.”

“I don’t,” I said. “My relationships with the men I’ve been with happened organically. I don’t go around putting ads on craigslist, for God’s sake. What you’re asking me to do is stage a relationship so you can feel inspired.”

“I already feel something for you so it wouldn’t be staged.”

“What about me?” I said, raising my eyebrows. “I’m just supposed to force feelings?”

He laughed through his nose, his lips puckering into a know-it-all grin. “Yara, we have chemistry. You can try to deny it all you want, but man is it there. I can practically feel you undressing me every time I’m in here.”

He wasn’t too far off base so I didn’t tell him to go fuck himself, but I did give him a dirty look before I went to hide in the kitchen.

“Fuck you, David Lisey,” I said under my breath.

I cursed as I stepped into the street from my building. It was cold as fuck. My Uber was waiting by the curb, the driver looking around anxiously. I matched the license plate on my phone to the white Prius and walked over. It was raining, the ground slick with patches of ice. It wasn’t usually this cold here; they said it was the coldest winter in twenty years.It was possibly my fault, Ann said. I was the Ice Queen.

I stepped around the slick spots and pulled cold air into my lungs. I was annoyed with myself for doing this, but not enough to send me home. Once I’d set my mind to something I stuck with it. A determined loyalist even when it hurt my pride.

“The Crocodile,” I told the driver, sliding into the backseat. He already knew because, hello, he wasn’t a fucking cab driver, he was Uber and they knew shit. I just needed to say it out loud.You’re doing something outside of the norm, Yara. Chasing a boy. No. Meeting a boy who asked very nicely.

“Oh, yeah?” the driver said. “Nice place.” He laughed, and I nodded.

There was a shooting there just a few weeks ago. It got a little rough sometimes, but mostly it was a fun place. Going to a grungy venue to listen to live music wasn’t unusual for me. Going because some guy asked me to was.

“Be safe,” he told me as we pulled up.

I nodded solemnly. He didn’t really care…it was just something to say.

I was wrapped in a worn leather jacket and I shivered as I left the warmth of the Prius. I walked toward the door, dodging a girl already vomiting on the sidewalk. It was only ten o’clock. Her friends waited against the building, frowning.

“You’ll feel better after you yak,” one of them called out.

“Atta girl,” another said.

I wanted to tell them to put some food in her stomach and to never use the word yak again. She went too hard, too fast, but I walked on. It was none of my business. They’d learn eventually.

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