Probably me.
I thought about what we’d been talking about before he pulled a Deney Terrio on me, and asked, “Did you really think Cooper wanted to kick your ass?”
He gave a sigh and said, “Good God, woman. Can’t I ever get you in my arms without that guy’s name coming up?” It was enough to break the tension, and my shoulders started shaking as I snickered into his. “And to answer your question, yes. At first, anyway. Your territorial friend all but pissed a circle around you that first week of school. He made it very clear that I was not welcome anywhere near you.”
“You’re kidding!”
“Nope. Took me a little while before I figured out he was only barking.” His arm tightened around my waist as he bent me backwards for an exaggerated dip, looking intently into my eyes as he added, “But then you stopped talking to me all winter and went back out with him anyway.”
He gave a soft kiss to my breastbone and straightened us both up again, and I tried to appear unaffected by the singe his lips had left behind on my skin. I shot back, “Well, I’m sorry you almost got a beat-down, New Kid.” But then I hid my face in his shoulder, took a deep breath, and added softly, “I’m sorry for a lot of things.”
Trip’s hand started the inevitable slide up and down my spine as he buried his lips in the hair at my ear and asked quietly, “And what unforgiveable crimes have you committed against me lately?”
I was in the process of reeling from the sweet, clean scent of him invading my nostrils, but managed to answer, “Not now. Then. I’m sorry about…”
… ever letting you go. I’m sorry for all the time we wasted. I’m sorry for being here with you right now when we can’t do a damned thing about it.
“… about all the misunderstandings.”
“Between us, you mean?”
“Mm hmm.”
We continued dancing, swaying against one another, and I was caught up in the thrilling and agonizing sensation of having Trip back in my arms once again. I was wondering how that was possible, how he could still manage to incite such an emotional response from me after so many years, when I heard his voice break my reverie.
“Lay-Lay?”
“Yeah?”
“I wouldn’t have changed a thing.”
Chapter 20
HAPPY TIMES
I downed the one and only shot I’d be partaking in all evening. I was a bit of a lightweight, and simply nursing a few beers would be enough to make me loopy without the added boost of hard liquor. But I hadn’t seen Pickford since the baby announcement. That, combined with the fact that my article was scheduled to hit the papers the very next day was good enough reason to go out and celebrate with a smidge of excess. He and Lisa had picked up my brother on their way into the city so we could have a night out on the town. The four of us went out quite a bit and tied one on every now and again. We were in our twenties, after all.
Bruce slammed his glass face-down onto the bar and said, “No more girly shots!”
I gave him a look and countered, “No more shots, period. I don’t want to drag your drunken ass out of here in an hour, cutting my night short.”
I’d slept until close to two o’clock that day, trying to catch up on my shuteye after the all-nighter with Trip. On the plus side, I was well-rested and primed for a late night out. So there was no way I was going to turn in early because of an over-indulging little brother. Bruce had only been legal for two years, and he was still trying to figure out his limits.
We’d decided on the Luna Lounge, a hip rock club on the lower east side. A college friend of mine tended bar there on the weekends, so I’d been to the place a bunch of times before. But that was the first time I’d brought my Jersey crew along.
The boys grabbed their beers and commandeered a spot a few paces away from where Lisa and I were sitting. The place was packed, but we’d gotten lucky when we managed to grab a couple stools at the bar. Which was a good thing for Lisa, because she’d started to feel the pregnancy by then.
It was difficult trying to slip in bits of conversation over the noise of the live band playing so loudly. But they were really great, so we didn’t mind.
Lisa took a sip of her club soda and yelled over the music, “Thank God we finagled a seat! I couldn’t stay on my feet another minute.”
She sounded exhausted. “Hey. You okay over there?” I asked.
Lis gave a sigh and answered, “Yeah. It’s just I can’t get to sleep these days and when I finally do, I wake up at all hours to pee, and then have to start my every single day by throwing up, but yeah. Other than that, everything’s great.”
I laughed.
“It’s not funny, bitchface. My hormones are completely off the charts already. If I weren’t so tired twenty-four-seven, I’d be jumping Pick twelve times a day. Poor guy doesn’t know how to deal with me. It’s gonna be a long nine months.”