“No, thank you. I’ll call a cab.”
“Pleasure meeting with you, then.” Rae swallowed the bile rising in her throat. This was the right thing. It was. It was. It was.
Wasn't it?
She stood, and focused on keeping her gait steady as she strode toward the front door. Why wouldn’t the hollow ache in her chest go away?
Chapter Twenty-One
Rae grabbed a pint of ice cream from the freezer. She stared at it for a moment before deciding brownie chunks and chocolate chip cookie dough would only make her more ill, and she put it away again. How long would it take to get over him this time? To convince herself she made her decision because it was in everyone’s best interests?
The doorbell rang, and she jumped in surprise. Who the hell was visiting her? She hadn’t exactly been social or picked up any friends over the past year.
Her stomach flopped when she saw Zach through the peephole. Despite the voice screaming in her head to pretend she wasn’t home, she opened the door.
He looked her over, one eyebrow raised. “Did I wake you?”
She glanced down, flushing when she remembered she was already in pajama bottoms and a T-shirt. “No. This is just around-the-house stuff. If Alice gave you my home address, she's fired.”
His confident smile was gone, replaced with something more genuine. There was an upturn to his eyes, and his cheeks didn't look frozen in place. “No. I… Um… Chloe gave it to me.”
“Glad to know she can be trusted with my private information.” She wanted to be furious with her sister, but a spreading warmth inside wouldn’t let her. “Come on in.” She should tell him to leave. The desire wasn’t there.
“I talked to Scott after lunch.” His casual tone wavered. “He said to tell you he misses you terribly.”
It was a nice thing to hear, but it wasn’t quite what she needed. She talked to Scott every couple of days, and he wasn’t who she missed. Besides, he kept this from her. Probably served her right. She wandered into the kitchen, instinct driving her to be a polite hostess. At least, she tried to convince herself it wasn't because she cared if he was comfortable. “Just him?”
“Nice place.” His voice stayed close. “And I'm not answering that yet.”
She shrugged, grabbed a can of Mountain Dew out of the fridge, and then set it on the island that separated the living room from the kitchen. She snagged a Diet Coke for herself. “Why are you here?” she asked.
He slid onto a bar stool. “Not to fight. I know we’ve mastered that, but I was hoping we could talk.”
She took a swallow of her drink. She wasn't going to enjoy this conversation. Not at all. Something else must explain the heat flooding her, making it difficult to think, right? “I'm listening. You can start any time.”
“Not quite what I had in mind.” He pulled a lighter from his pocket and twirled it on the Formica counter. “I was hoping we could be pleasant instead of defensive.”
Of course he was. That was the way all business transactions worked, right? “Kind of like this afternoon? Flustering and confounding me until I was almost ready to beg for answers?”
“You wanted all business, I kept it all business.” He pulled his gaze away. “But I am sorry. It sounded clever in my head to try and catch you off guard, but I shouldn’t have done it.”
She sighed and leaned back against the counter. What did he want her to do? “I'm having a hard time keeping up. Maybe you could feed me my lines, and this would be easier.”
“Yeah, I guess it would be, wouldn't it?” His fingers drummed against the side of his drink, a hollow clink echoing through the room. “How about this? I'm getting really tired of you deciding you can just walk out of my life.”
Great, now he was casting blame. She crossed her arms. “So sorry to inconvenience you.”
“But…” He held up his hand. “I suspect you're just as unhappy with me treating parts of our personal lives like an ongoing negotiation.”
“Maybe.”
“So, tell me why you actually left a year ago.”
She unhooked her arms, rested her palms on the counter, and then pushed herself up to sit on it. Her feet kicked back and forth. The words weren’t there. Nothing seemed appropriate. “I can't.”
“I'll tell you why I'm really here instead.” His voice sounded strained. “After you left, things fell apart. I mean, really bad. Scott was sporting a black eye for a week.”
“Wait, what?” She hadn't expected that. No one had told her about that.
Zach gave her a sheepish smile. “He's big, but I'm fast. I was furious about what he said to you.”
“He did apologize for that.” Rae didn't know if she was more disturbed, flattered, or amused by the imagery. She liked the chivalry more than she wanted to admit.
“I know, but I was still pissed.” He traced circles around his can top. “About everything. It took Scott months to convince me we needed you back.”