Page 86 of You're so Bad

We don’t have any more wedding stuff to show up for until the photoshoot and the rehearsal dinner, followed by the wedding itself. Then it’ll all be over.

I haven’t set a date for my clay lesson. Shauna’s asked; I haven’t answered. I also put her off when she asked if I wanted her to come over, even though the house feels empty and wrong with just me and the little terror cat running around.

It didn’t used to feel empty. I used to like the quiet.

I’ve pulled up Shauna’s number half a dozen times without calling or texting. Something has always stopped me. Maybe it’s that I still have no idea what I’m doing, or how to do it—and if I mess up, she’s the one who’ll pay the price. The thought of being the one who takes away her smiles is more painful to me than the knife wound that left that scar.

Maybe it’s also what Josie said. It’s stupid, because I don’t believe in psychics or airy-fairy shit, but it slid under my skin in the way a person’s deepest fears do.

You’re going to go to jail.

Bean’s been scratching up the stair rails, but it’s not in me to feel sorry for keeping her. Without her, there’d be nothing but the void, which has become wider. Because I haven’t let myself see Shauna. Because Reese is out there somewhere, alone and probably scared. And because I can’t bring myself to ask Constance out to lunch or for a drink because I’m avoiding her granddaughter like a coward and she probably knows it.

I keep watchingThe Sopranosbecause it helps me imagine Shauna watching it. Lying in her bed, her hair mussed, her ass cupped by pajama bottoms that are probably several inches shorter in my imagination than in reality. I think about slipping my hand into those shorts and making her come with my fingers again and again while we pretend to watch the show.

I want to tell Burke all of those things, except for obsessing about her sweet pussy, but I can’t seem to open my mouth.

With Shauna, I can’t stop talking, but it’s different with him. Maybe it’s because I’ve always felt like a problem for other people to fix, and I especially feel that way with Burke.

Or maybe it’s because I’ve never forgotten the way we met.

I saw him as a target, a con. I feel the need to make up for that—even if it’s not the kind of thing a person can hope to make up for.

I can still see Burke and the other guys in my mind’s eye, sitting in that bar in their outdoor gear, shooting the shit. They looked comfortable as hell with each other, because even then they were like brothers. I was wearing hiking shit not because I enjoy scaling mountainsides but because I knew all of them did. So I took a seat at the bar near them, waiting for an in to their conversation. I felt like I did when I was a teenager who was homeless in the winter, walking past restaurants with fireplaces, groups of people who had scarves and sweaters and coats. I wanted to get closer, and not because of what it might get for me.

In the back of my head, I hear Shauna saying I should tell him about that too. She’d be right. She’s right about a lot of things, but there are a few hits I know I’d never be able to recover from.

One of them is Burke turning his back on me and telling me I’m a lost cause.

Sighing, I run a hand through my hair.

“Not a damn thing’s on my mind, brother. Just enjoying the sun. It feels good to work outside.”

“It feels damn hot, is what it feels,” he says. Then, “Nothing else weird has happened, huh? I mean after the truck getting jacked.”

“Nope. There’ve been some other robberies in the neighborhood, so I’m guessing those guys are the ones who lifted the truck. No one’s bothered with me or Mrs. Ruiz’s place. It’s been quiet as a church mouse.” I feel the heaviness of that in my chest. If anyone had told me a few months ago that I’d be sad because no one had broken into my place, I’d have called them a lunatic. There goes life again, making a liar of me.

“Good.” He nods, then slugs some water down from his bottle. “Our accountant said the paperwork should go through next week. We won’t have to wait much longer to get you a new one.”

I laugh at this. “We have an accountant?”

He grins back at me. “Sure do. He’s called Danny.”

“Danny did this shit for you?” I whistle. “I knew he was an ace with computers, but I didn’t know he messed around with spreadsheets.”

“You know Danny. He’s always looking for ways to do shit for me because of the apartment.” He gives me a sidelong look. “Hey, you know Delia’s sister might be interested in moving in with him. She’s in a bad situation right now, living with her ex. Do you think Danny would go for that?”

I hoot, because even though I don’t know Mira well, she’s obviously a live wire. “You just got done saying he wants to do you favors, so I’m guessing he won’t complain, but I tell you what, it’ll be fun as hell to see that go down. Couldn’t think of two more different people.”

He laughs and rests a hand against the siding of the house, then pulls it back quickly, because it probably feels like a hot plate. It might be nice out with the breeze, but the sun’s still brutal back here.

“Maybe we need to put up a tarp over the deck,” I say. “Make it a bit nicer for porch sitting back here.”

“That’s a good idea,” he agrees, smiling.

I have to laugh, because he’s giving me the kind of approving look I never got from any of my teachers. “Do I get a gold star?”

“Maybe a lunch beer.”

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