Lost In Us (Lost 1)

"I mean, stop playing the unattainable. If a chick treated me the way you treat James, I wouldn't bother with her ever again," he says, taking another smoke, clearly annoyed.

But he can't be as annoyed as I am. "The way I treat him?" I emphasize every syllable, crossing my arms. "Please, by all means, explain to me how I'm treating him badly."

"You know what I'm talking about. Ultimatums are never fair play, Serena."

My stomach turns to ice at the word ultimatum. I flex my palms and rest them on the concrete. Surely James didn't tell him about our conversation? Or anyone, really. That moment was private and painful, and something both of us want to erase from our memories. At least I know I do.

"Especially when it involves getting rid of one of their oldest friends," Ralph continues, his gaze as cold and accusing as his tone. The cigarette between his fingers is almost finished—he wasn't kidding about his smoking speed. "When a guy ditches such a friend for your sake, it means he’s in it deep.”

And now I finally do get what he's talking about. He's talking about Natalie.

"Maybe he realized that particular friendship was harmful for him," I snap.

Ralph snorts. "Funny thing to realize, after being friends for fifteen years."

"I didn't tell James to force Natalie out of his company, Ralph."

"But he did it." He lifts himself from the concrete just as the doors of Wellstone's open. "That should count for something." He turns around and walks into Wellstone's without another glance at me.

I wait for everyone to get inside, a taste of bile in my mouth. Of course Ralph would resent me for what happened between Natalie and James. I remember Ralph and Natalie discussing the trip to Malaysia, in a very friendly half-embrace. True, Ralph seems to have a habit of touching everything that has female parts, but he and Natalie have known each other for so long, they must be friends. I push myself up and rise from the concrete. A cab passes in front of me and I'm tempted to signal it to stop and get the hell away from here. I don't need all this talk about Natalie and what James's behavior toward her means, now that I've made my decision to move to New York. I don't need more reasons to doubt myself.

But James's Porsche pulls in front of me before I have time to search for another cab. I suck in my breath when he gets out of the car. How is it that each time I see him I'm surprised by how handsome he is? By his well-contoured cheekbones and piercing blue eyes. And those lips. A shiver wracks me as I remember all the places on my body his lips have kissed. His eyes lighten up when he notices me, and I realize he wasn't really expecting me to show up.

"That went fast," I say as he and Parker stride toward me. My voice is astonishingly even. "Did something go wrong?"

"No," James answers. "It went better than expected, actually. I think they might—"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Parker comments, but he's grinning.

It's such a relief to see Parker grin in my presence. Then I remember his grin has nothing do with me; he's still mad at me. I need to remedy that right away. I won't have the chance again. I'll go to New York, and when I come back to pack for my move, who knows if I'll see Parker?

"Parker, can I have a word with you?" I ask, just when James opens the glass door to Wellstone’s.

Parker doesn't look surprised. "Sure."

James doesn't look surprised either. He looks amused, if anything. "I'll see you both inside."

He closes the door, and I'm left alone with Parker, whose eyes bore into mine with such intensity I have to look away. His eyes are a tad too much like James's for me not to feel things I shouldn't at the sight of them.

"I am really sorry about lying to you when we went to the event," I say, staring at the pavement as if I'm talking to it.

"I must admit I wasn't expecting that from you, Serena."

If I could have a superpower, I'd choose one that would allow me to drill a hole in the concrete solely by staring at it. Or be invisible. Either would work just fine now.

"I just… I did it on a whim," I mumble, "and then didn't know how to get out of the whole thing."

"Why didn't you just tell me the truth?"

"I was ashamed, I guess."

"Well, don't be next time. I like to think we're friends.” I snap my head up because his tone takes me by surprise. It's no longer reprimanding. It's playful. The ear-to-ear grin matches it perfectly. Right now, he looks more like James than ever.

"We are," I say.

"Come on, let's grab something to eat. I'm famished."

My stomach protests in a loud grumble at the word famished. "So am I, it seems." I chuckle.