Page 57 of Outside the Lines
“Welcome to fandom.” I bumped Lydia with my hip.
She snorted. “We’re already in fandom.”
I laughed and the ache in my chest loosened, but it didn’t go away. Unlike Ian, it looked like my heartache would stick around.
The only problem with avoiding town so I didn’t run into Simon was that outside Bluewater Bay, there wasn’t very much at all. I could drive all the way to Port Angeles, but that felt too much like I was hiding.
Even though I was.
I made trips after midnight to the few twenty-four-hour places nearby, so I ate okay and had some supplies, but damn I missed good coffee. I’d run out of decent ground at home and the swill the studio provided was a poor substitute, especially since it was weak as fuck.
The day after I’d been pulled into helping on a particularly late-night set-building spree, I decided to chance a trip into town to visit Stomping Grounds, both for ground coffee and a nice hot cup of joe. Since it was about three in the afternoon, Simon would probably be working, so there’d be little chance of running into him.
I parked my car far away from End o’ Earth, and headed into the coffee shop. The same barista that had served me those mornings three weeks ago was behind the counter, along with another barista. I didn’t recognize anyone else in the shop, thank goodness.
The morning barista eyed me. “Well, hello, stranger.”
My laugh was hollow. “I guess it’s been a while.”
She nodded. “I suppose you won’t be ordering for the Derrys.”
The other barista ran the coffee grinder and I had to wait to answer—everything else was drowned out by the racket. When it died down, I spoke. “No, only a simple large cappuccino for me.”
She jotted something down on the cup and handed it to the barista behind the machine before ringing me up.
“Actually, I’ll pay for Ian’s coffee.” Lydia’s voice sounded behind me. “And a small cinnamon latte, please.”
My heart dropped straight to the floor. Shit.Shit. She should have been at the shop too. But no, she slid up next to me and I was caught.
“It’s theleastI can do,” she said. Clipped speech, and when I hazarded a glance, her eyes bored straight through me as she handed the barista her card.
“Thanks.” I pushed the word out through a dry throat.
Her smile didn’t reach anywhere near her eyes. Hell, it barely touched her lips. “Got a minute to chat, Ian?”
After a night like last night, I didn’t have to be back on the lot at any particular time. I didn’t want to sit with Lydia, but at this point, I couldn’t exactly run away. The barista handed us our drinks and gave me a long look that included quite the frown.
“I— Yeah. I have time.” Maybe coffee hadn’t been the best plan. My hands were shaking already.
Lydia pointed at a table set back away from everyone else, and I was grateful for that. I slinked after her and took a seat. She sat after I did and placed her coffee down in front of her and watched me. Her stare went on forever.
I squirmed. “Lydia—”
“No.” She lifted her chin and there was fire in her eyes. “I don’t care about your reasons, or about how sorry you are, or any of that shit. I care about Simon.”
My cheeks heated while everything else grew cold. “I care about him, too.”
She barked a laugh. “Really? Because you have a horrible way of showing it.”
“I—” All the logic in my head churned and whirled and collapsed.
“No.” She held up her hand this time. “I don’t want to hear it. I’m not the one whoshouldbe hearing it.”
I chewed on my tongue. She had a point there. A fucking good one. Shame clamped onto me and pierced my skin.
“I watched Simon go from floating on cloud nine to dragging around a cinderblock of agony that hasyourname written all over it. I’m done with seeing him being unable to breathe or think because you don’t have the balls to break up with him properly. So, you’re going to talk to him like a goddamned adult and tell him all the shit that’s ready to spill out of yourcaringmouth.”
Lydia’s voice hadn’t risen one bit, but it cut through me like high-velocity shards of glass. The coffee shop had gone very,veryquiet.
