Don't Tell (Don't 1)

“Greer found it. Not me.”

He turned to face me. “The roommate who is never here?”

“That’s her.”

He nodded. “Seems like that would be a good thing. You have the place to yourself most of the time.”

“It can be quiet.” I didn’t want to open up to him about all the things I felt today. How the loneliness almost choked me when I walked into the empty apartment.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I realize it’s probably a surprise I called or showed up after disappearing for a week.”

I stopped him before he embarrassed me. “You didn’t make any promises or break any plans. You don’t need to apologize.”

He moved closer and I felt the tingles zing through me.

“Actually, I do.”

I didn’t know if I had the energy for this now. It was one more layer of emotion and confusion on top of a heart-wrenching day.

“I was called out of town for work, and I thought I’d be back and be able to call, but it didn’t turn out that way. I was in meetings. The time zone change didn’t help and when I could call I knew you were asleep.”

“Time zone? Where were you?”

“Germany. It was supposed to be a two-day thing but it turned into a full week. I would have emailed, but we never exchanged that. I’m sorry. I feel like a

n ass for not telling you ahead of time. I’m not good with spur of the moment planning.”

I looked into his eyes. “You were in Germany all week?”

He nodded. “Yeah, dick move on my part. After that night at the memorial, I had every intention of asking you out for the weekend. Dinner. A movie. Something. But I was on a plane the next morning at six.”

I crossed my arms, daring myself to accept his excuse.

“When I heard your voice on the phone I thought I just better come over. You didn’t sound like yourself.”

“I-I don’t know, Vaughn. My life is chaos right now. Complete chaos.”

I’d heard stories like this before. It echoed ones of lost cell phones, or grandmothers who had suddenly fallen ill. I didn’t know why he would make it up, I didn’t care. I had to take care of myself.

“I brought you something.” He jogged back inside and returned with a box.

I looked at him, stunned. “What is it?”

“Not much, but I’m hoping you’ll forgive me and let me take you out.”

I peeled back the gold paper and stared at the writing in German on the front of the box.

“Each chocolate is full of a liquor shot,” he explained. “I thought it might be fun. And you like chocolate.”

I stared at him. Was I wrong? Had he actually gone to Germany on an emergency trip? Was I so burned from terrible men that I pegged a good one as bad? Holy shit. My radar had malfunctioned.

“Thank you.” I looked at him. He moved in closer and I stiffened.

Not because I was afraid of him, but because I was afraid of myself. How I reacted when he was near. I was drawn to him. Pulled to him. It was inexplicable and undeniable.

“Vaughn, I-I don’t want you to have to tell me where you go or where you’ve been. We’re not even … it was one date, right?” I tried to back pedal all the things I had thought and felt the week he had been missing.

I didn’t want him to know how often I checked my phone, or looked for him when I was on the Metro. Because that made me sound like a love-struck girl with a high school crush. And nothing about what I felt when I was around him seemed childish or small. That was what was so terrifying. It had felt real and whole in an instant. Faster than anything had before.