Page 48 of You Can't Fight Lightning
She didn’t respond. The look in her eyes though—I hurried to explain.
“You don’t have to worry about me, Roxy. I’m not going to die on you. I won’t leave you like that.”
She pulled her drink toward her, still not speaking. She took a sip of the blueberry martini, then stared at the glass.
In one smooth motion, Roxy stood up. Her hand arched out, and the blueberry martini splashed into my face, blueberries skittering across the table.
“You pushy, obnoxious son of a bitch.” Her voice was breathy, as though she’d finished some challenging task. “How dare you invite yourself into my private life? I don’t want to see you anymore, Z. Not ever.”
With a thunk, she set the glass on the table. Her face was hard, but behind it, I could see the anger, hurt, and shock.
I became aware of those around me, all silently staring as Roxy marched to the front door, her head high and her chin even higher. No one moved or spoke as the bell over the door tinkled, signaling Roxy’s exit.
Then the waitress was at my elbow with wet towels, dry towels, and her hands fluttering as though they were looking for something to do.
Wiping my face, and dabbing at my now stained shirt, I considered what had gone wrong. Correction, what had I done wrong?
Because it was clear I’d done something very, very wrong.
I was going to go with knowing something about her she hadn’t chosen to tell me herself. But it was so important that—I stopped myself. If I had to say ‘but’ then it wasn’t a good reason. Or I didn’t believe that she had a right to privacy. It was that simple.
“Thank you, Courtney.” My murmur was a prayer of thanks sent up to the heavens, out of the hearing of humans. My reading had paid off. Sort of. Not before I stepped in it up to my neck, but at least I could figure out what I’d done wrong.
I smiled at the waitress, who seemed even more flustered than me, and handed her a couple of hundreds.
I couldn’t let Roxy go without trying to fix this with her. When I stepped out onto the sidewalk, I was just in time to see her zoom past where I stood on her motorcycle.
Running, I got to mine. The Fat Boy roared to life, startling a couple of people who were walking by where I’d parked. I waved my hand at waist level, so they couldn’t see, and whispered, “Have the best night of your life.” I didn’t want anyone else to suffer because I’d made a mess of my night.
Then I raced down the street in the direction Roxy had gone.
I didn’t catch her. I rode by her apartment, but her bike wasn’t out front. Then I drove around town, hoping to catch her.
No joy.
There were too many places she could go, where you could open up the bike, get some speed.
Oh, gods. Please let her be careful.
Without any other options, and without a lot of hope, I rode back to her apartment. I needed to apologize, try to make this right. Well, at least make it right for her, I realized.
I didn’t have any hope for myself. But Roxy deserved more. She deserved everything, and not the place she’d decided was hers.
It was time to tell her the truth.
Chapter Thirteen
Roxy
I’d never understood when people said they got so mad they saw red until now. Now, my entire world was shades of red, pulsing and swirling around me, feeding my anger.
The fucking nerve of that guy. The audacity.
He’d been snooping.
Why would anyone tell him? Why? I’d been through this conversation with the people who knew me. They knew I’d tell those in my life in my own time.
But someone had told him.
