Changing Roles

I hated angry Shelby; it was a side of her I rarely saw. She was downright scary. And it made my stomach ache more.

I stood. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just thought you’d like a new dress. I thought I’d buy it for you. Save you some cash.”

Her face got even angrier.

I should not have said that.

Jesus, what was wrong with me?

Her voice was measured. “If I wanted a new dress, Liam, I could buy it for myself. I don’t need you to buy it for me. I certainly don’t need you offering to dress me for my date. I don’t need anyone to buy me anything. I can look after myself.”

I held up my hands. “I know you can. Look, I was an arse, again. I didn’t mean it.”

“You said it. I think you meant it.”

I shook my head. “I wasn’t thinking. You looked sad, and I wanted to cheer you up.”

“By buying me a dress to wear for someone else.”

“Ah, yes,” I said, although I had a feeling I shouldn’t be agreeing to that statement.

She regarded me coolly.

“I’m taking the rest of the day off. I have things to do. Alone.”

So, no dress shopping, then. At least not with me.

“Sure.”

She swept by me without another word.

I sat, staring at the table, Air Supply lamenting some sad song in the background. I resisted the urge to pitch my mug at the computer to shut it off.

That would only make Shelby angrier.

Bloody hell. That went well. Maybe offering to buy a woman a dress to wear—to go on a date with another man—was against the rules.

Dammit. I needed to get my hands on that rule book and save myself a lot of grief.

Now the ache in my stomach was a huge, tight knot, and the only person who could make it feel better was so angry I couldn’t ask her to help me.

Somehow when I woke up, I’d known this day was going to be crap.

I was right.I decided the best, most mature course of action was avoidance.

At all costs. Give Shelby a chance to cool down.

I heard her moving around upstairs, so I ran to my room, grabbed my gym bag, and left the house.

I wasn’t sure my trainer got over the shock I’d voluntarily appeared for one of his torture sessions. He was especially cruel and relentless today, reminding me why I avoided going to the gym. By the end of his session, I was a shaking, sweat-soaked mess. I hit the shower, groaning as the hot water poured off my shoulders and down my aching back and legs.

I should have snuck off to a movie.

I felt better when I left the gym, and even better once I stuffed an In-N-Out burger down my throat, hiding my face under a baseball hat and sunglasses as I went to the drive-through. I was good and didn’t get any fries, but I couldn’t resist the milk shake. Then I stalled for more time and stopped by my favorite music shop. It was small and off the beaten track, so I knew I was safe. They were a throwback and still stocked actual music and movies, and I killed some time browsing through CDs and DVDs for a while. I bought a bunch of new selections, some of which I knew Shelby would enjoy. We liked the classics and ones you couldn’t find on Netflix, so I liked to keep them on hand. We’d watch them when she’d forgiven me.

Because she would forgive me. She had to.

Another thought occurred to me, which put a damper on my burgeoning hopes.

What if she and Douglas hit it off so well that she spends all her free time with him instead of me? I mean, how could he resist her?

“Hey, Liam, you okay, man?”

I looked up at the voice interrupting my thoughts. Ron was staring at me, concerned, and I realized I was standing there, rubbing my chest at the strange ache that had formed in it. I shook my head to clear it. “Yeah, I’m good.”

I took my purchases to the counter and paid for them, then bravely headed for home.

After dropping my gym bag in the laundry room, I walked into the kitchen, the room strangely quiet without Shelby’s music and presence filling it. I went to the den and unloaded the movies and music, then sat at my desk. I could hear Shelby upstairs, the occasional sound letting me know she was still home. I glanced at my watch, seeing it was almost six, which I thought was the time she said she was leaving. I remained seated, unsure what to do.

Should I go find her and apologize?

Should I stay here and let her leave, so she didn’t go out upset?

Would she let me apologize?

Should I know why I was apologizing?