Poor, Megan. How was he going to explain to her that Raphael was just being his angelic self and would never be romantically interested in her? And even if he were, Raphael couldn’t do anything about it. Lash felt a pressure on his chest as he thought of Naomi. There was nothing he could do about her, either. He decided to change the subject. “I’ll make sure I tell him the next time I see him. We don’t hang out as much lately. So, you’re in college?”
“Yeah. After that night, I went back to my apartment and basically passed out for about eighteen hours. That was the longest I’d ever slept. When I finally woke up, I felt sick about where I was living and what I was doing. And I remembered what Raphael told me.”
“What did he say?” Raphael had said a lot of things to him that night. Lash had a tendency of letting Raphael’s reprimands go in one ear and out the other. He wished he had paid more attention.
“He told me to remember who I was.” Megan opened a bag of chips and popped one into her mouth. “I think it was the feeling I had when he said it that did it for me. I felt like someone could see past my needle marks and the slutty clothes I used to wear and see me for who I really am.” Megan held out the bag to him, offering him some.
He shook his head and looked away, avoiding eye contact. He was one of those who had judged her, used her for her body—all because he was being stubborn and angry with his situation, blaming Gabrielle for something he’d brought on himself.
“I decided to call my aunt, Verna. She told me I had a place to stay if I ever wanted to come home. So I packed my bags and took a Greyhound to Gardenville. Aunt Verna came into some money recently. Sold some of her land to Prescott Oil. They’re doing lots of fracking in the area. How lucky is that? She’s paying my first year’s tuition until I get back on my feet.” She popped another chip into her mouth.
“That’s great, Megan. You look happier now.”
“I am.”
“Um, Megan.” Lash knew that the weight of guilt would never go away if he didn’t apologize. “I feel like I need to apologize for how I treated you that night.”
Megan stopped munching and looked at him, surprised. “You don’t have to.” She swallowed. “I wanted it just as much as you did.”
How could he tell her that the only reason he’d been with her that night was because Megan looked like Gabrielle, that it had been his way of getting back at her?
“Yes, I do.” He looked directly into her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
Megan gave out a small sob and threw her arms around him. “Thank you,” she whispered in his ear and then kissed his cheek.
“Excuse me for interrupting your touching reunion. I would like to make an actual purchase of the merchandise here.”
Oh, shit! He could literally feel Naomi’s eyes boring into his back. He tried to pull back from Megan, but her arm slid from his neck and down to his side. He gave a mental groan.
“Sorry, my friend and I were just talkin’.” Megan giggled as she stepped aside, her arm still around him.
Naomi was livid. Her eyes thinned into slits as they glared at Megan’s arm and then up at him. “Uh, huh.”
“Naomi, I want you to meet an old friend of mine.” Lash bent down to pick up his basket of groceries, giving him the opportunity to remove Megan’s hand from his hip. “This is Megan.”
Megan smiled and stretched out her hand. “Hi, Naomi.”
Naomi looked down at her hand and then back at Megan. “My hands are wet. There weren’t any towels in the Ladies room.” She jerked open the cooler, grabbed a sandwich, and slammed it shut. “I’ll wait in the car,” she said coldly and walked toward the cashier.
“I got sodas,” Lash called out. He felt like kicking himself. She was obviously upset, and the only thing he could think of saying to diffuse the tension of the moment was to announce his procurement of beverages.
“She’s a breath of fresh air,” Megan said.
“Sorry, I have to go,” Lash blurted as he walked quickly down the aisle. “I’m really am happy that you’re doing so well. I’ll make sure to tell Raphael the next time I see him. Naomi, wait up!”
Lash glanced nervously at Naomi as she leaned against the car door waiting for him. Bear was at her feet looking up at Naomi attentively as she peeled off the plastic from the sandwich container.
“Soda?” Lash held out a bottle of red liquid. “It’s your favorite. Big Red.”
She threw him a glare and tore off a small piece of the sandwich. “Here you go, Bear,” she said as she held out the morsel.
Bear sniffed it, huffed, and trotted over to Lash.
“Traitor,” Naomi mumbled as she tossed it into her mouth.
Lash ripped off a piece of beef jerky and threw it to Bear. “Let me explain. Megan is—”
“There’s nothing to explain. You have a friend. Her name is Megan. She happens to look like she stepped off the cover of Teen Vogue, and she happens to be all touchy-feely with you.” Naomi bit angrily into her sandwich.
“You don’t understand. I met her a few months ago and I helped her—”
“I’m sure you did help her,” Naomi snapped. “Like I said, you don’t have to explain anything to me. It’s not like we’re together or anything like that.”
“Then why are you mad?”
“I’m not mad.”
“Yes, you are.”