“To new beginnings,” I agree.
Chapter Thirty Two
After we close the bar, Henry gives me a ride home. He only had the drink we toasted with, but it was my third, so he’s in much better shape to drive than I am.
I’m feeling lots of fidgety things. It was so nice talking to Henry at the bar tonight. He was the perfect cure for my loneliness. Derek left a crater in my heart, and Henry fills up the emptiest parts of it. I’m not sure I can be fair to him, though. I can tell he wants to try again from our conversation at the bar. From the way his gaze followed me to and from the bathroom, and the way he ignored the attractive brunette on his other side who tried to engage him in conversation while I was gone.
I’ve had enough to drink that I can almost imagine letting him walk me inside, letting him follow me to my bedroom. Letting him take a run at chasing Derek’s memory out of that bedroom.
Would it be the worst thing? Maybe I should root for Henry. He may not ignite me the way Derek did, he may never ignite me the way Derek always has, but do I really need that? Plenty of people live full, happy lives without ever being with someone whose love is like a fire in their soul. Plenty of healthy people have calm, loving relationships, and maybe I could be one of them.
I’m lost in my thoughts when Henry pulls into my driveway, but his heavy sigh is enough to pull me right out of it. It’s an exasperated sigh, and he wasn’t exasperated with me last time I checked.
My heart sinks all the way down to my foot when I see Derek’s truck parked in my driveway. Eyes wide, I search the back window, looking for the outline of his head in the driver’s seat, but the truck is empty.
“You appear to have company,” Henry says, dryly.
My gaze jumps to the front porch. Derek is sitting there on my bench with a bouquet of blue flowers resting on his lap.
I have no idea what to say. I don’t know why he’s here, and I especially don’t know why he’s here with flowers. My confusion must register on my face, but Henry has been here before, so he doesn’t offer me the benefit of the doubt. When I open the car door and climb out, he does not follow me.
Gravel crunches beneath my feet as I take a few steps toward my house, but then I pause and look back at Henry. “I…”
He watches me struggle for words for a moment, then he just offers me a thin smile. “Good night, Nicole.”
I watch as he backs out of the driveway and leaves. My shoulders slump and I turn back to Derek. His handsome face doesn’t convey he’s happy to see me, either. His dark golden brows are drawn together in a thunderous expression and he doesn’t even get up off the bench as I make my way up the porch steps.
“What are you doing here, Derek?”
Lifting the blue carnations half-heartedly, he says, “Release day. Figured I’d bring you flowers.”
I look at the bouquet. The blue of the carnations matches the cover of my book beautifully. “They’re lovely.” Only missing a beat, I go on, “I thought we talked about how we’re not doing this anymore. How we’re over and no longer fuck buddies, and definitely no longer anything that warrants you bringing me flowers on release day.”
“We’re soul mates,” he says flatly. “That doesn’t warrant flowers?”
Heart sinking, I shake my head in denial as I draw my key out and clumsily push it into the lock. “Not anymore, it doesn’t.”
“Are you back with the suit?” he asks.
“No,” I answer, glancing at him briefly before pushing the door open. “He just gave me a ride home from the bar because I had more to drink than I intended.”
“Mighty nice of him,” Derek mutters.
“He’s a nice guy,” I state, stepping over the threshold and walking inside. I leave the door open in case Derek decides to follow me, and he does. I hear the door close behind me as I kick off my shoes and drop my purse on the ground.
I don’t have the energy to go another round with Derek, and I didn’t think I’d have to. It really seemed like he was gone for good this time—two weeks without a single word. I wonder if I opened a wormhole that can’t be sealed. I wonder if I’ll have to move again. I can ask Derek to stop coming to my house and interrupting my life, but I can’t make him do it. If I stand any chance of getting past him in any capacity, this has to stop.
I turn around to tell him that, but I lose my train of thought because his shirt is off, and God, his body is distracting.
Shaking my head, summoning my self-control, I tell him, “No, Derek. We already had goodbye sex, we are not doing this again.”
Instead of arguing or really even answering me, he points at the tattoo inked on his left side. “You never asked me about this.”
Swallowing, I nod my head. “I know. There’s a lot we never covered. We just… ran out of time.”
“Two hearts. One soul. It’s a paraphrased quote,” he states. “I couldn’t get the whole thing, because someone’s wordy.”
My heart drops, a feeling of dread creeping up on me. I hope that doesn’t mean what I think it means.