Tell Me Not to Go Page 22

  We climb so high together, and neither of us want it to end. We do everything to prolong our last time together, but it has been too long, and it’s so good between us. He grasps my hand at the end, and I return his grip. Even afterward, neither of us lets go.

  I don’t want to fall asleep, but I drift in and out of a pleasant haze, and he does the same.

  The next time I open my eyes, Jeff’s looking at me.

  “Hey, sleepyhead.” He kisses my forehead.

  I start to panic. “I don’t want you to go.”

  “I don’t want you to go, either.” And, of course, he means to LA. “But you have to.”

  Something he said last night nags at me. “What did you mean when you said you’re helping Andrea?”

  He sits up, his face stiffening. “Umm, she just needs a friend right now.”

  “Forget I asked. It isn’t my business.” I throw my T-shirt on.

  He grabs my arm. “It’s not like that. She’s pregnant with Keller’s baby.”

  Every cell in my body goes on high alert. “Please tell me you’re not helping her through that.”

  “She’s really freaked out. Her friends want her to get rid of the baby.”

  “I can’t believe this.” I launch out of bed and throw my pants on.

  “What?” He looks confused.

  My hands are trembling. “Do you honestly not see where this is heading?”

  “I’m helping a friend. What’s wrong with that?”

  “You’re doing what you always do. Being the white knight that rushes in to save her.”

  He pulls his shorts on. “I’m being a nice person. You might want to try it sometime.”

  That should hurt my feelings, but I hit below the belt first. And I can’t quit now. Jeff is important to me. Even if I can’t have him, I want him to be happy, and this situation with Andrea is going to ruin him.

  “Bullshit. You’re being spineless. You’ll be married to her within the year.”

  “We’re friends. I don’t love her.”

  “That’s never stopped you before.”

  He turns to me, his face pink with anger. “Maybe when the woman you were stupid enough to fall in love with dumps you, it’s just nice to feel needed.”

  My heart lurches. This is how he decides to finally say those words? At least I know he’s telling the truth. He’s too angry not to be.

  “Settling won’t make you happy. And her baby won’t bring your baby back.”

  He inhales sharply and the set of his jaw makes him look fierce. “Like you said, it’s none of your business.”

  He brushes past me as he leaves. I’m desperate for him not to; I’m never going to see him again, and I want him to know how I feel.

  I grab his arm. “Wait.”

  “Let’s just leave it here before we say even more terrible things.”

  “I love you, too,” I say. “I need you to know that before you go.”

  He freezes. “But it isn’t enough, is it?”

  He looks how I feel: like someone ripped his heart clean out of his chest.

  I shake my head. “What are we supposed to do? Neither of us is dumb enough to risk everything for love.”

  Like an admission of defeat, his shoulders drop and he stays silent.

  Just as I thought.

  “You remember the first night we met? What you told me?” he asks.

  “About what?”

  “You warned me that getting my heart broken would be devastating.” He kisses my forehead. “You were right.”

  And this time, Jeff is the one who runs away.

  Chapter 28: Jeff

  21 Days Without Her

  Sam left today. Just drove away in that stupid car of hers, probably filled with more crap than she can carry. I won’t be there to help her move her stuff into her apartment. Won’t know what she’s doing and who she’s doing it with. But this is what she wanted, and so I go back to my life.

  “Hello?” Lizzie waves a hand in front of my eyes. “You here?”

  We’re at Jude’s moving the furniture back into place in their bedroom. He’s out with his friends, so I’m getting some much-appreciated alone time with my sister. And we’re spending it pushing dressers and end tables around.

  “Sorry.” I give one final push and we’re done. “You happy now?”

  “Yay,” Lizzie says, clapping her hands. “It looks amazing. No more prison gray. And considering how much Jude and I use this room . . .”

  “Nope,” I say, shaking my head.

  She laughs. “Sorry. I was channeling Sam there for a minute.”

  Her name causes an ache to form behind my ribs. Sort of feels like a heart attack.

  “Sorry. I miss her, too,” Lizzie says.

  “I’m fine.” I leave the room and head for the kitchen, using water as my pretext for escaping this conversation.

  But Lizzie follows me.

  “I know in our family we do the whole stoic thing, but you’re full of crap. You miss her so much you’re sick with it.”

  “What’s talking about it going to do?”

  Screw water. I grab a beer out of the fridge and twist off the cap.

  “Maybe it will get this off your chest, which, by the way, you keep rubbing like you’re dying.”

  “So I fell for her. So what? She said it isn’t enough, and she was right. I’ll get over it.”

  “Oh, I fell in love. Big deal,” Lizzie says, lowering her voice and puffing out her chest to imitate me. “You’re so stupid.”

  “Thanks a lot.” The beer tastes good going down so I take a bigger sip.

  “I told both of you this was going to happen. No one ever listens to me.”

  Lizzie plops down on a stool at the counter, the frown on her face making her look like a five-year-old. Though Lizzie wasn’t this judgmental when she was five.

  “Maybe because you say ‘I told you so’ a lot.”

  “Well, I’m stuck in the middle,” she says. “I’m hurting for both of you, and I can’t turn my sadness into anger by hating either of you.”

  I sit down next to her. “There’s no one to blame here. We played with fire and neither of us got away clean.”

  “But your heart’s breaking.” Lizzie takes my hand, and I know she can feel what I’m feeling. We’ve always been like that.

  I struggle to breathe.

  “Oh, Jeff.” She sets her head on my shoulder.

  “She said that neither of us is dumb enough to risk everything for love.”

  “Yeah, well, Luke made sure she learned that lesson. And it doesn’t make sense for her to be anywhere but LA right now. But what about you?”

  “This job is huge for me. You have no idea how hard it is to break into this industry. It’s a big deal that I made it here. That I’m keeping up with these people.”

  “Sure. But do you love it?”

  I stop short. Because I haven’t thought about it long enough to answer that question.

  “Because if not, isn’t your job just another relationship you’re too afraid to leave?”

  I stare at Lizzie, blinking.

  “Maybe we should arm wrestle over this, like in the old days.” Lizzie puts her right elbow on the table.

  “I was ten then. Pretty sure I could beat you now.”

  “Wanna bet?” She wiggles her fingers.

  I take her hand and squeeze it. “I love you, kid. Thanks for trying to cheer me up.”

  She squeezes back. “No matter what happens, I’m here for you.”

  Eli is sitting on my desk, shooting the breeze, his blue tie way off-kilter. “Shit, I have a meeting in ten.”

  “Me too. My fifth of the day.” I’ve been pulling longer hours than usual to keep my mind occupied. I’ve even been getting all emo and playing my guitar every night. I can’t look at the banjo, because it reminds me of Sam. Pathetic.

  “I feel you, brother, but I have to go prep,” Eli says, and then he’s gone.

  I reach for the aspirin
I keep in my drawer. I’m taking so many I should buy stock in the company.

  Andrea tiptoes over, like she’s afraid I’ll bite. “Hey. Thought you might need some food.” She sets a big brown bag down on my desk. “It’s a club—your favorite. And a cookie. You seemed like you could use it.”

  Andrea’s been a trouper this week, bringing me treats and coffee just about every day. Like she used to when I first started working here.

  “You didn’t need to do that.”

  “Are you crazy? That’s what friends are for.”

  There’s a hopefulness in her tone, or maybe I’m reading into everything these days.

  “Are you coming to happy hour tonight?” She sits on the corner of my desk, and her skirt rides up to mid-thigh. Hard not to notice she has nice legs.

  “I don’t know . . .”

  “C’mon. You don’t want to sit home alone all night.” She smiles at me, and I’m happy that she doesn’t seem scared and miserable like she did just a couple of weeks ago.

  “Fine. I’ll see you there.”

  I regret happy hour before I even walk in the door. But I don’t want to go home to an empty house again, either. That leads to all kinds of crazy behavior, like crying into my beer, or watching a chick flick most of the way through, or smelling my navy blue T-shirt because Sam wore it and I haven’t washed it since.

  “Hey,” Eli says, holding up his drink when I walk in. “He’s returned from the dead.”

  “Just for the beer you’re going to buy me.”

  Eli pats me on the back and heads for the bar while I hold the table. Rajiv and another guy I don’t know are at the table next to us.

  “Is Sam coming?” Rajiv asks, catching me off guard.

  “Nope. She left for LA.”

  “Oh. Sorry, man. That sucks. She was a cool girl.”

  My mood turns darker, but Andrea walks in then, giving me a reprieve.

  “Hey. Sorry I’m late.” She throws her purse on the chair next to me. “I was feeling a little sick,” she whispers so Rajiv won’t hear.

  She hasn’t told anyone at work yet about her pregnancy, which is probably smart.

  “I’ll go get you a seltzer water,” I say, scooting her chair in for her.

  Eli’s still at the bar, because Keller has arrived. He looks as unflustered and arrogant as usual, standing at the bar like he owns it. I sidestep him and order Andrea’s drink.

  “Here’s the beer I ordered you,” Eli says, handing me a bottle. “Hang out with us for a bit.”

  “Yeah. Heard you met with the Sonica guys today,” Keller says, finishing the last of his vodka-whatever. “Fill me in.”

  While Eli is willing to overlook the fact that Keller is an asshole, I’m not. I have no tolerance for a man who doesn’t care about his child or his responsibilities. Then again, Eli doesn’t know the whole story.

  “I have to get back,” I say, gesturing over to my table.

  Keller peeks over my shoulder and laughs. “Jesus, that didn’t take her long. You two are the perfect pair.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, moving into Keller’s space.

  “Pretty sure I do, since it’s my baby she’s carrying.”

  Eli’s eyes go wide.

  My pulse starts to race, and sweat breaks out on my forehead. “You need to shut your fucking mouth.”

  Keller holds up his hands. “Dude, I’m totally cool with it. You’d be doing me a solid, actually.”

  I have no memory of grabbing Keller’s collar with both hands and lifting him off his stool, but I must have, because Eli is yelling for me to stop. But I’m beyond the point of maintaining control.

  “You are a piece of shit.” I push hard, and Keller falls to the floor. He gets up and charges at me, but Eli is there, holding him back. I must be lunging, too, because suddenly Rajiv is holding my arms. Some other guy, maybe a bar employee, has me by the neck.

  “Outside,” Rajiv says to me, dragging me away.

  My lungs are on fire and my brain feels like a red-hot poker is lodged in it. I bend over and breathe, forcing myself to calm down.

  Rajiv finally lets go of me, running his hands through his jet black hair. “What the fuck?!”

  “I hate that guy.”

  Rajiv brushes off his shirt, which has somehow gotten wrinkled. “We all kind of hate him. But we work together, so you can’t be getting into a bar brawl with him.”

  “Thanks for not letting me punch him. He probably would have sued me.”

  He pats me on the shoulder. “Fuck yeah, he would have. You should leave.”

  Andrea comes outside, her purse over her shoulder. “I’ll make sure he gets home,” she says to Rajiv.

  She’s quiet as she walks me to my car and follows me to my place, which I sort of appreciate because I’m still in a haze. But when she gets to the door, I don’t want to let her in.

  “You okay?” She moves the hair off my forehead. “Did you get hurt?”

  “No. We never even traded punches.”

  “I know this happened because of me. I’m so sorry about that.”

  She is kind and sincere, and I feel like a jerk for making a pregnant woman stand in my doorway.

  “Come in,” I tell her, despite the familiar, rude, female voice in my head telling me I’m inviting in trouble.

  I throw my keys on my small dining table. Living in this studio is beginning to feel like being trapped in a dollhouse.

  “Keller’s angry with me, and he’s taking it out on you.” Andrea says. “He’s upset about having to pay child support. The good news is he probably won’t be that involved. I’m sad for the baby, but relieved, too.”

  “You don’t need him. It’s better for the baby to have no father at all than that jerk. You can do better.”

  Andrea’s laugh is bitter, which is unlike her. “Most guys aren’t like you. You think a guy in his twenties wants to raise someone else’s kid? Or any child, for that matter? But it is what it is.”

  She’s trying to be brave, but I can see the dark circles under her eyes and the fear she’s hiding. I lead her to the couch so she can sit, but seeing her there instead of Sam throws me off. “It’s going to be okay. You’re young and beautiful and someone is going to want the whole package.”

  She crosses her arms over herself for protection. “You say that so casually. But you’re just making it harder for anyone else to measure up.”

  “Andrea, I . . .”

  She holds up a hand. “No, please don’t. I’m sorry. I know you’re in love with Sam, and I’m taking advantage of your friendship.”

  “You’re not. I am your friend. But that’s all I can be right now.”

  “It’s just . . . my parents asked me to move home to Chicago to be near them. I wanted you to know.”

  “Are you going to go?” It would make a lot of sense for her to be near people who care about her.

  “I can transfer to the Chicago office, but I hate to leave my friends, and . . .”

  She looks at me for too long, until I can’t possibly mistake her meaning. She’s still holding out hope that I’ll come around. Something in my eyes—regret, sympathy, I don’t know—must give me away, because she starts to cry.

  “You must think I’m ridiculous.”

  “No. You’re fine.” I put my hands on her shoulders, desperate to stop her tears. “Please don’t be upset.”

  She leans in for a hug and puts her arms around my neck. It feels wrong, but she needs comfort and I’d be a dick not to give it to her. Then, I’ll walk her to the door.

  Except when she pulls back, she puts her lips against mine and I let her. Maybe this was inevitable, and maybe it’s not such a bad thing. Her mouth is warm and gentle. And Andrea is sweet and generous.

  Is there anything wrong with settling when you can’t have what you really want? Doesn’t everyone do that at one point or another?

  Dread courses through my body, down my spine, all the way to my toes. I’m
the guy perched above the dunk tank, and someone just hit a bull’s eye. I pull back quickly and let go of Andrea’s arms, unsure what to do next. But Sam would. Because she was right, and I didn’t listen.

  “I need you to go,” I say, steeling myself against Andrea’s response. “You’re a wonderful woman, but if we keep spending time together this is going to go somewhere I don’t want it to.”

  Andrea stands up, her face red. “Of course. I understand. And maybe Chicago is a good idea.”

  “It’s important to have family around. Good luck, Andrea.”

  She walks quickly to the door and, bad manners or not, I don’t follow.

  I look around this studio and relive the moments I’ve had here. All of the ones I care about include Sam. The echo of her laughter, her moans—hell, even her yelling—bounces off these walls and makes this my home. Without her, this place is a rental.

  And yet, I gave up Sam for a job that I don’t even love. Some people thrive on big risks and a frenetic pace: I’m just not one of them. I’d rather slow down a little so I can dig deeper and build something of my own, rather than jumping from start-up to start-up.

  So why did I let Sam go?

  I left Utah thinking I needed freedom. Maybe what I really needed was a backbone. There’s nothing wrong with wanting permanence or with being the nice guy. And I want to be nice for someone else. Someone who appreciates it. Someone I love.

  Sam knew all along; I didn’t need to avoid relationships. What I needed was the right woman, and the confidence to put my stake in the ground when I found her.

  My heart is in overdrive but my hands are rock steady as I write out a note and a check for Eva and put them in an envelope.

  Next, I grab my keys and my wallet and stuff them in my pockets. They’re important to have when you’re about to blow up your whole life.

  Chapter 29: Sam

  29 Days Without Him

  LA is a cesspool.

  Look at me, being overdramatic. Maybe the city has already wormed its way into me.

  Good news is, everything’s open late, and there’s a lot to do. But it’s strange to live in a place where cars and boob implants outnumber humans. The upshot is that it’s a huge city, and a person can blend in here. And that’s what I want to do right now.