Apartment 2B (19 page)

When I see her hair, I instantly want to run my fingers through it. She’s straightened
her normally wavy hair and it looks longer than usual. My eyes skirt down to her black
dress. It looks like a tight tank top on the upper half and a short, flowing skirt
on the bottom. All I know is that her breasts are spilling out of the top and if she
bends over, I’ll see her cute little ass. Of course, my dick wants to say hi. We may
not leave the apartment. She looks drop-dead gorgeous and I want her naked. Now.

“Babe, you look so fucking hot,” I praise and step close to her.

She grins at me in relief and lets me pull her to me. Since she’s wearing a pair of
heels, her lips are much closer to mine than normal. I’m definitely loving the heels.
I kiss her lips softly, not wanting to mess them up.

“You look pretty sexy yourself,” she breathes.

“Come on. Let’s get out of here before I cancel our date. You look amazing and I want
to lick every inch of your body,” I groan.

She pulls away and locks the door behind her. Hand in hand, we go downstairs to the
truck.

“So where are we going?” she asks after we start driving.

I’m taking you to dinner and then I have a surprise for you.”

She smiles and reaches over to thread her fingers with mine. “I can’t believe I’m
going on a real date. This is so unreal,” she says shyly. Right now, I feel guilty
that I haven’t taken her anywhere yet. She deserves to be treated right.

We ride quietly for a few more minutes until we arrive at an Italian restaurant I
used to go to with my parents when Liam and I were younger. Once we pull up and get
out, we’re hit with salivating aromas of garlic. She grins as we go inside.

After the hostess seats us and I order some wine, we look over the menu.

“Their manicotti is so fucking good,” I tell her. “Oh, and the lasagna is pretty tasty
too.”

“I think I’ll have the manicotti then, since its ‘so fucking good,’” she teases with
her dark eyebrow cocked up, tossing an ornery look my way. I want to climb under the
table and tell her what else tastes fucking good. She must see the heat in my eyes
because she blushes.

The server brings some wine and takes our order. Sidney looks stunning as she casually
sips her wine. She appears innocent and sultry at the same time, which is confusing
and sexy as hell.

“Sidney, is there anything about your childhood that was good? Any happy memories?”

Her face darkens, and I immediately curse myself for bringing up sensitive subjects,
but the desire to know her better wins out. The look of sadness on her face nearly
kills me.

“My father skipped out when I was ten. Of course, I vaguely remember some times when
the three of us were happy, but mostly those have been erased from my mind. Momma
being Momma filled in those memories with terrible ones. The only thing that made
me happy in my miserable life was cooking and when she would allow me to go to the
library. That library was my safe haven. There, I could escape and have a normal life.
What’s sad is I haven’t been there in weeks. I actually miss it, but I’ve been pleasantly
distracted by real-life escapes. Like you.”

I smile at her. She had the shittiest life, but she somehow just keeps plugging along,
putting it further and further in the past.

“What about you, Lane? What was your favorite memory?”

I don’t have to think to know the answer.

“Well, when Liam and I were in the fourth grade, we were on an American Gladiator
kick. One day, we got the bright idea to pull the mattress off of my twin bed. Liam
was supposed to try to keep me from pushing past. He held the mattress tight and I
charged with all of my nine-year-old might. I must have not realized my own strength
because I pushed him right through the window. As soon as the glass shattered, I thought
I’d killed him. I was horrified. He was fine, just sitting in the dirt outside the
window, just as shell-shocked as I was. When Mom came flying in the bedroom to see
what the ruckus was about, Liam immediately told her he fell out the window. That
was one of the first times he had my back. After that, we always covered for each
other. Well, until the end of high school.”

She was grinning throughout my story, soaking up normal childhood memories, but frowned
at the last part.

“What happened at the end of high school?”

“Liam got injured at a football game in high school. He took a pretty bad blow that
gave him whiplash. His neck was messed up and required some physical therapy. I’m
pretty sure that he suffered some brain damage that nobody ever picked up on. After
that, he was moody and depressed. He dealt with some pain from the injury that he
didn’t fully express to Mom and Dad, because after that, he started using drugs. Football
was a thing of the past for Liam. I stopped having his back because I hated what he
was doing to himself. Looking back, I wish I hadn’t been so judgmental and had helped
him through it. Instead, I ran off and joined the service after high school and left
him to deal with it on his own.”

“Lane, it’s not your fault.”

Our depressing conversation was interrupted when the server brought us our food. After
making sure we were doing okay, she left again. Sidney took a bite of her manicotti
and moaned, which of course got my dick’s attention.

“You like it?”

“Oh my God, it is so fucking good.”

“Ha! Told you.”

We ate and chatted about happier topics. I think she told me about every single movie
Patrick Swayze played in. It was hilarious how she told me all the storylines like
they were new and not mostly from the ‘80s and ’90s. After we paid, we walked hand
in hand to the truck.

“So what now?” she asks. “Do I get my surprise?”

I’m not sure how she will handle my surprise.

“We’re going to take a dance lesson. I’ll be your partner so you won’t have to worry
about other people touching you.”

She grins over at me from her side of the truck. My heart was beating with nervousness,
but the look on her face assures me she will be okay with it. When we pull into the
parking lot, she nearly jumps out of the truck in a hurry to get inside. I chuckle
at how damn cute she is.

“All right, Lane. Let’s go learn some dirty dancing,” she says, grabbing my hand.
When my dick comes to life at the thought of dancing dirty with Sidney, I suddenly
realize that maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

“You guys are picking this up fast,” the instructor praises. Her name is Liv and she’s
been eyeballing me since we got here. I’m trying to figure out if I knew her in high
school or something. For the life of me, I just can’t place it. “Sidney, darling.
I’m going to cut in so you can see how fluid your movements are supposed to be. Just
watch.”

Sidney eagerly steps away to learn more of the dance. Liv just wants to touch me.
I can see it in her eyes. It pisses me off that she is taking advantage of Sidney’s
naïvety. We assume the starting position and Liv grins at me broadly.

“You look familiar,” she whispers as we begin moving.

Liam and I were brought up to be good dancers. Mom taught both of us boys how to dance
before prom. She said that it was important for a man to know how to dance. It made
him a true gentleman and worthy of a proper lady.

“I grew up around here.” That’s all I am offering her.

“But you said your name is Lane. You look just like this guy I dated.”

“You don’t say,” I say as I dip her. I know exactly where this is going.

“Yeah. His name was Liam. We had some pretty fun times together.”

“That was my twin brother. He is deceased now.”

That shuts her up. Our dance now becomes very uncomfortable as she figures out what
to say next. Finally, she mutters an apology and pulls away, successfully handing
me back over to Sidney.

We dance a few more songs without Liv bothering us anymore, which is fine by me. Thankfully
Sidney tells me that her feet hurt and she is ready to go. Once we are in the truck,
she kicks off her heels in disgust.

“Remind me never to wear those damn things again. Now I have blisters,” she pouts.

I chuckle until she suddenly becomes serious, which makes me drop the smile.

“Lane, what was that lady saying to you?”

“She dated Liam at one point and thought I looked like him, which I do since he was
my twin.”

She looks down at her hands and wrings them nervously, as if she is afraid to say
something. “I want to see,” she says finally.

“See what?”

“His grave.”

For some reason, I feel sick about this. Not because I’ll have to see three headstones
of my only family members, but because this will make it real for Sidney. Her delusion
will be confirmed. As much as I want her to realize the truth, I also worry how she
will react.

“Are you sure, Sidney?”

She looks over at me with tears in her eyes and nods. Sighing, I turn the truck around
in a parking lot and head toward the cemetery. It’s closed for the night, so I park
the truck closest to their gravesites and we get out. As I pull her hand into mine,
we step over the small gate and I lead her to their headstones. She looks otherworldly
in the moonlight with her pretty black dress and bare feet. Like a dark fairy of the
night.

“Here,” I say, gesturing at where my family now rests.

She releases my hand and kneels in front of Liam’s headstone. Silent tears stream
down her face as her fingers trace the engraving. After a few more tearful moments,
she turns to me.

“How?” she asks, genuinely confused. I feel bad for her. Bad that she has to come
to terms with the web she’s been spinning.

“I told you, Sidney.”

“But he was real to me. He loved me.”

“It wasn’t real.”

“Lane. It. Was. Real.”

This argument is one that we’ll have as long as we know one another. It isn’t enough
for me to want to leave her though. I sit down beside her on the grass and grab her
hand.

“No, babe, it wasn’t.”

She sits quietly for a moment as thoughts swarm in her brain. Suddenly, her eyes flick
over to mine and she looks wild with realization.

“Liam is Patrick.”

Um, okay? “Babe, I don’t follow.”

“Lane, listen. Did you see Ghost with Patrick Swayze and Demi Moore?”

Sadly, I nod my head yes. What direction is she taking this now?

“It would explain why he scared me and was surprised that I reacted. And that first
day when he spoke to me, he acted completely shocked that I talked to him.” She is
starting to get excited and sits up on her knees. “Also, he never touched me. He so
easily respected my boundaries.” Her eyes are shining happily now.

“No, Sidney. No.”

As if I hadn’t said anything at all, she continues to proudly explain her theory.
“And when he would blow on me, it was always chilly air. I loved that about him, but
looking back, it was so unnatural—”

Cutting her off, I say, “Sidney, you need help.”

She frowns at me. “Also, he got really freaked out when I came over and wouldn’t let
me in the bathroom. Did he die there?”

My heart skips a beat because that isn’t common knowledge.

“Yeah. Lucky guess.”

“He also never ate around me or drank anything.”

“Sidney, you need help.”

“And when I mentioned that his life would be better if I weren’t in it, he got pissed
and made me take it back.”

“Sidney, you need help.”

“He always conveniently ducked out when it was time to meet Tina.”

“Sidney—”

“And he never went to work or left the building.”

“You need—”

“Oh, and he really hated that movie! The moment it started playing, he flip—”

“Sidney, stop!”

Yanking my hand from hers, I stand and stalk toward the truck. I was so fucking stupid
to get involved with someone when I knew she had mental issues. This was probably
just my fucked-up way of making up for not being there for my own brother’s mental
instabilities.

“Lane, wait!” she calls after me.

I stop and turn around so quickly that she runs right into me. Grabbing her shoulders,
I steady her.

“Please, Lane. Believe me. Liam helped me. He loved me. Why can’t you jus—”

And in a moment of fury that I will forever regret, I slap her across the face. Not
a hard slap, but one to get her attention. I didn’t mean to. It just happened. The
moment my hand struck her delicate flesh, I died a thousand deaths. Betrayal crosses
her face, followed quickly by tears.

“Oh, God. Sidney, no. I am so sorry,” I plead with her, and she becomes a blur as
tears fill my own eyes. Her mother abused her, and I am no fucking better.

Her eyes lose their passion and dull over. What have I done?

Pop-pop-pop-pop!

We both jerk our head to the noise. All four of my truck tires have popped. Ignoring
them, I reach to touch her cheek, which now sports a bright red handprint.

“Don’t touch me,” she hisses and steps back when I get close. My heart sinks because
now she’s acting like the cornered animzal I first met.