Coming Home (Only Time Will Tell #1) (12 page)

He chuckles and says, “They’re yours. And I got in with a key, it’s usually how people get from one side to the other of a locked door.”

“Don’t be smart ass. I know how doors work, it’s just the fact that only I have a key and at no point today did I give it to you.”

He blows out a breath. I’m assuming he wasn’t expecting me to get so irked about it. “I got a key cut the other day. You needed couches and I wanted to say sorry for whatever I’ve done to upset you.”

“I’m not upset with you. And that was after you had my key so don’t start lying to me.”

“I know, I got it done because I felt better knowing I could get to you if I needed to. If you collapsed or something and couldn’t get to the door… I could still get to you.”

I don’t know why it makes me laugh. It could be the fact he’s thought of that possibility or that his bottom lip sounds like it sticking out like a scolded little boy. “You have a wild imagination, you know that?”

“I like to think of it as thinking of every possibility. Are you sure I haven’t upset you? You looked hurt when you left and you haven’t called, it wasn’t because of the Penelope thing, was it?”

“No. I said I wasn’t going so you might as well make your Mom and Penelope happy. I think I was just tired and needed to sleep. Honestly, it wasn’t anything you did.”

He laughs a little and then sighs. It’s moments like this when I wish I could just spill my guts to him and explain everything, but it’s not fair over the phone. But we’re both…normal. No emotions, not really. “Will you get these couches picked up though? I don’t want your money or hand outs, that’s the last thing I’d want from you. Thank you for the flowers, too.”

“You’re welcome and no. Can’t you think of it as a birthday and Christmas present for every one missed since you left? Or you could owe me a dance this weekend?”

Is it the world’s mission? “I’m still not going, so no. I’ll think of some way to pay you back. I wouldn’t take these as gifts, you’ve spent a fortune.”

“You’re worth it.” He sighs and my hearts gone…mush, like a marshmallow. “I take it you haven’t been in to the bedroom yet though?”

New bed? New bathroom? New wardrobe? “No, why?”

“Go look.”

I don’t want to, I could just sleep on my new couches. I take my time checking that the door is locked and collecting my purse and shoes before I even step in there. Even throwing everything down with my eyes closed and going back to turn the lights off before I find out what he wants me to see. It annoys him too, because he starts nagging down the phone at me.

With a flick of the switch my eyes zone in on what he wanted me to see. In the middle of the bed is a basket full of Butterfingers. I screech and throw him a few thank you’s.

“Oh, I buy you furniture and I’m the devil, but candy and everything is okay?”

“Pretty much,” I laugh. “You know I love these and they were always your apology sweetener. No matter what you did as a kid, you got me one before you faced me.”

One of the good things about England was they didn’t have them. I’d have probably crumbled going down the candy isle every time. It’s not so much what it was, even though I do love them; it was the fact that it was his way of sweetening me. A joke that went on and on. It started one day while we were in a store and he mentioned that he was hanging with the guys that weekend. I wasn’t bothered but I pretended I was and said I’d only let him if he got me one. So he did. It happened a couple more times before he started handing me the Butterfinger and then asked. I would never have stopped him doing what he wanted or have stayed mad with him over anything. It just became our thing.

“I know. I knew they’d help my case. Some things never change.”

“Swap with me?” Nod whines as we walk towards the bar where she works. “I’d rather be being waited on than serving drunken fools. I want to be the fool.”

Giving her a sideways glance I tell her, “Do you know you sound like a child when you’re like this? Man up, you want this house so you have to work your butt off for it. It’ll be worth it in the end.”

“Sorry, wise one. I forgot you have your own place and a man that buys you things without asking that would probably be a good chunk of my deposit.”

I groan to myself, regretting that I’d mentioned my new furniture. She was just as stunned as I was. “He’s not my man. And trust me, if I could remove the damned things I would. I don’t want gifts or money from him. It’s all weird.”

The clicking of her heels stops abruptly along the side walk. “Weird? What’s so weird about all of it? You two had a relationship years ago and now he’s back in your life. He’s trying to make you give him a chance, in my opinion. You’re the one who’s hell-bent on keeping a few brick walls between you.”

“It’s not that simple,” I tell her as I walk the few steps back to her. “Listen, I’m not being like this to enjoy the feeling of having him do all of this stuff, but I do have my reasons. It’s hard staring at a person who you once loved and fail to see the old them. The old him is in there somewhere, but I can’t see it. That time apart, I built up the wall because of what I thought had happened, and the other is there to stop me being hurt. For God’s sake, he had some hooker on his lap and Josie peeing up his leg in the first twenty four hours. To top it off, he’s going to that damned thing with someone else. I know that was because I’m not going, but my point is, the old Kyle didn’t flit from woman to woman. This new one does and I don’t want to be one of those women. Can’t you understand that I’m trying to cling to the happy memories that I have? Not destroy them with new bad ones.”

She licks her lips and her eyes narrow before she starts walking again. “I get that,” she mumbles, “but that doesn’t mean that you can’t bring the old him out. You can’t just run scared of the worst case scenario to stop from hurting. For all you know you could bring him back to life.”

I get her point too, and I have made progress with one of them. Once I’d realized that he had no idea, the mortar holding it all together slipped away but the bricks still stand. I just need to reach up and grab that first brick, but I need Kyle to help me get to it. It won’t move otherwise.

“Are you coming in?” Nod asks holding the door open and staring at me like I’ve lost the plot.

I don’t even know how I got here. I don’t remember much after our little talk. “Yeah, sure.” I smile, hopefully a convincing, sane one.

As we step into the bustling bar, the smell of delicious, freshly cooked meals hit me as it mingles with the smell of beer. Nod heads towards the back, waving at a couple of people as she passes their tables. I on the other hand make my way to the nearest bar stool and plonk my sorry ass on it, ordering a wine while I drown away the feeling of confusion.

Do I really need to make more of an effort with Kyle? Do I need to cut him some slack and embrace what’s happening, or do I hide away from it like I have done, trying to steer clear of anything that will emotionally attach me to him again? The thoughts and scenarios keep shooting around my head and no matter what I think about, my old plan comes back screaming at me, telling me it’s the right decision to halt it to prevent any further torture. I’ve already had too much. I need to tell him and I have to do it when nothing else is affecting our judgment. He needs to know the truth and then I have to let him decide for himself how he wants to be. If I embrace a relationship of some sort with him where I become dependent on him again and then I tell him, I’ll re-live my life all over again and I can’t do that.

Kicking my shoes off and chucking my purse in the kitchen once I walk through the apartment door, I go to the fridge and grab another glass of chilled wine, downing it and refilling it to top the night off.

I head to the bathroom and run a bath. Bubbles, oils and soft, relaxing music. Just what the Doctor ordered.

Slipping back into the bedroom, I go to get undressed, when a black silhouette scares the living crap out of me in front of the window. My heart’s beating a thousand times a second. Flicking on a lamp, my eyes squint at the floating shape and a shocked gasp escapes my lips as realization hits me.

I go over, running my hand over the sheer, dusky pink dress; the delicate beads sewn in a pattern all over the garment, sending a shiver down my spine as my finger tips run over them. The price tag also catches my eyes and my hand flies up to my mouth, a fluttery breath escaping at the extortionate cost.

“I hope it fits, it took ages to find it.” Kyle’s voice startles me from behind. I turn, looking at him wide-eyed, tears brimming, threatening to explode.

I gulp, looking at the dress and back to him. “Please don’t tell me you went and spent even more money on me. I told you I wasn’t going. Why are you trying to make me? I already owe you God knows how much money for the couches and then you go and add a few more thousand bucks on the tab for a dress.”

“C.J., I’m not expecting you to pay me back. I got it as a gift. I just really want you to come.” As he steps in to the room and starts walking over to me, wariness imprinted on his face.

Gesturing with my hand to stop I take a seat on the end of the bed, my emotions threatening to get the better of me. “Kyle,” I whisper, glancing up at him and see a fresh scowl. “K.C., I don’t want the dress, or anything from you. Besides, you’ve gone to one of these things before without me, this time won’t be any different.”

He walks over, hands in his pockets and crouches down in front of me, before cupping my hands in his on my lap. “You’re right, I’ve been to these events a million times, and I always go with some meaningless woman, drifting through the night, talking to people I can’t remember names of and smiling a fake smile because I’m expected too. “I finally have you back in my life, someone who sees past all the money and the front. You know the real me and don’t see dollar signs when you look at me. I swear to God I went on this one date, and that’s all it was. One. Date. On the way back to her apartment, she was planning a frickin’ wedding.” He laughs.

I know I’ve thought about him being with other women, but to hear him talk about it, cuts deep. “Who picked the dress?” I ask, sighing, glancing at the dress again and then back to him. Staring into his eyes, I feel like no matter what argument I start over this, he’ll win, always does. His thumb rubs tenderly on the back of my hand, sending shivers down my spine. Damn him and his touch.

“I did. Do women really need so many options? Jesus!”

I chuckle and free a hand from his, gently rubbing his cheek. “We do. I guess I’d better get up early and finish what you started though. I can’t go in my old heels can I? Not when the dress costs a fortune.” I laugh, trying to shake the tears away.

A wide grin spreads over his face and my stomach drops.

He gets to his feet and heads into the lounge. I shout after him, asking what he’s up to, because I’m not trusting that smile.

He comes back through juggling white boxes and places them in the middle of the bed.

Twisting round, I stare at them, mouth hanging open and speechless.

He shoves a box towards me, snapping me out of my daze. “Open them.” He urges almost to a point where he opens them himself. You know, like when you watch children at Christmas and they take an eternity to even peel the corner off. Just like that.

Cautiously, I take the biggest one, untying the shimmering red ribbon. Taking a deep breath, I remove the lid and remove the tissue paper. Inside, is a pair of cracked silver, Jimmy Choo heels. I close my eyes and reopen, hoping that this is a figment of my imagination. It isn’t. He got me Jimmy Choos. “What the hell. How much have you spent?” I ask breathlessly.

Smiling and completely ignoring me, he nudges another box over, and then another. I’ve got a matching Jimmy Choo clutch purse and teardrop, Tiffany earrings. My emotions are now off the scale. I can’t talk, I feel sick and I’m seconds away from letting the dam break and release the streams of tears I’ve fought back since the dress.

“Wow. So you thought of everything huh?” I ask trying to laugh but it sounds pathetic and not as convincing as the first time I tried it. I want to strangle him and hug him stupid for this. I’m amazed that he spent so much just to get me there. “No underwear though?” I joke.