Easy Melody (Boudreaux 3)

I lie down and sigh. Maybe Adam’s right and I’m just overreacting. Maybe he didn’t hear me. Did I whisper it? I try to remember, but all I know is that he was making me see stars with that amazing tongue of his.

It’ll be okay. I’ll see him tonight, and follow him home after he walks me to my car the way I always do, and things will go back to normal.

I hope.

***

It’s been a slow night at work. Weeknights usually are this time of year anyway. It’s hurricane season, and the weather is less predictable, so the tourist crowds slow down. We’ll get another rush around Christmas time, so for now we really depend on the weekends to get us through.

But that means that during the week I have too much time to think. I usually plan drink specials, but I’m eager to see Declan.

“Stop it,” Adam murmurs as he passes me on his way to the beer tap. “You’re doing the girl over-thinking thing.”

“I am not,” I lie and elbow him in the ribs. “You are not a mind reader, you know.”

“When it comes to women I am,” he says and wiggles his eyebrows.

“Ew.” I shiver. “TMI.”

Finally, the night comes to a close, but Declan hasn’t shown up. He usually gets here about a half hour before closing, but he’s not around when Adam leaves out the back, locking up on his way, and I go through the front.

I lock the door and turn to walk to my car and about jump out of my skin when I see Dec leaning against the building, the way he used to when we first reopened.

“You scared me!”

“Sorry,” he says with a grin. “I just got here, figured I’d wait outside.”

“You’re like a ninja.” I turn on the sidewalk and he falls into step beside me, but he doesn’t take my hand like he usually would. “So you had a bad day?”

“Yeah.” He nods, but doesn’t explain further, and we fall into an uneasy silence. He seems distracted.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“Fine.”

I nod, the knot in my gut growing. I did screw up. I knew it. I hate this new tension. It’s never been here before, not once, even when we tried to do the just friends thing before, and the thought of that makes me nauseous, because if he suggests we go back to being friends, I won’t be able to do it. Not with Declan.

I’m just too in love with him.

Not touching him is killing me. Finally, unable to stand the silence any more, I blurt, “I cleaned today.”

I cleaned today? That’s the best I can come up with? But he looks down at me, truly looking me in the eyes for the first time tonight, and smiles softly. He grabs my hand and squeezes three times as he says, “You’re so sweet.”

And for that second, my world is right again.

But he lets go and looks away, and we’re right back where we were.

I’m so damn confused!

Finally, we reach my car. I just want to get back to his place so we can make love and I can ask him what’s really wrong. I want to talk this out, and make it better. I need to make it better.

I need him.

When I reach for the handle of the door, he leans in and brushes his lips over the edge of my mouth and backs away. He doesn’t kiss the hell out of me, or threaten to fuck me right here for the whole French Quarter to see the way he usually does.

He just backs away, and without meeting my eyes, says, “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Oh. So I’m not invited back to his house.

Thrown, and at a loss, I just nod and get in the car, and without looking back, I pull away, driving blindly while tears form in my eyes. What in the ever loving hell just happened? He brushed me off, that’s for sure, but was he brushing me off for good?

Who was that?

Because it certainly wasn’t the man I know and have grown to love.

It’s a good thing it’s the middle of the night, and that traffic is pretty much non-existent because I’m not sure how I get back to Adam’s. I’m on autopilot as I park and drag myself into the condo, which is dark and empty. Adam must have gone to someone else’s place, which suits me just fine. The last thing I need tonight is to hear him fucking some girl in the next room.

This way I can have a temper tantrum in peace.

I drop my bag on the couch, kick my shoes off, and take my clothes off, dropping them as I walk into my bedroom. I don’t give a shit that I’ve just left a path of clothes from the living room to my room.

I’ll pick them up eventually.

I fall into my bed, pull the covers up to my chin, turn on my side and let the tears come. I’ve screwed everything up. Declan is so uncomfortable around me that he can’t even look at me, let alone touch me. He doesn’t want me around tonight, and I always go back to his place after work.

I’ve stayed in this room maybe a half a dozen nights since I started seeing Declan. So the fact that the tension was so thick I could cut it with a knife, and he doesn’t want me at his house, says that this is pretty much over between us.

And, oh, how it hurts.

My whole body aches as I cry it out, and when I’ve shed all the tears I have inside me, I start to get a little mad.

Or a lot mad.

I’ve had to walk on eggshells around men my whole life. I refuse to do it now. If Declan can’t handle my feelings, that’s not my problem, and I can’t regret telling him that I love him, because I do. So much.

I have to be true to myself. I deserve that, and damn it, I’m going to keep being honest with myself and everyone else in my life. I’m done pussyfooting around.

So screw Declan and his weird mood and his brushing me off.