The Girl of Diamonds and Rust (The Half Shell Series Book 3) (3 page)

Fighting back the tears, I pick up Neil’s picture from my bedside table, hold it above my face and just stare at him. I like the way his eyes look at me, the way they make me feel, even from a picture.

I still think of Neil every day. I do miss him, and he is my best friend. Crap, I share with him things I would never dare share with Rene. There are times I think I am still in love with him, a smidge, maybe even more than that.

I know he’s still in love with me. He hasn’t said it, but I know it. I can tell by how he speaks to me. I wonder what it will be like to see him again. We haven’t been together for four months. I wonder if it will feel good to be with Neil or just grossly uncomfortable for us both in that
we used to be together but now we’re not
kind of way. Neither of us knowing how to act around each other, or what to say or do. God, that would be awful. I hope it’s not like that.

Maybe I should have stayed with Neil, even though we were only close, almost perfect, but not enough. It would have been better than where I am today; alone, frightened, and brokenhearted.

I set Neil’s picture back on the nightstand and switch off the light. I curl into a tight ball, hugging his pillow. I loved Neil less than I love Alan and tonight I wish to God I had loved Neil more. Loving Neil less is what’s gotten me into this, my latest nightmare. If I had loved Neil more than Alan, I would still be with him, and be the
Chrissie
I am when I’m with Neil.

A better girl than I am today. A girl I sort of started to like. Not the girl lying here alone and afraid, or the girl I will be tomorrow. The girl I always seem to become with Alan. My worst
me
.

CHAPTER TWO

A soft rap on the front door brings me awake and I open my eyes. I slowly sit up on the couch, pausing a moment to take a deep breath, and then rise to my feet praying that the change of position doesn’t make me start throwing up again.

Damn, why does every little movement of my body make me vomit today?

Feeling that nagging warning in my stomach, I swallow hard and fumble to unlatch the door. I open it and somehow manage a smile. “Hey Mr. Next-Big-Thing, welcome back to Berkeley.”

Neil’s warm green eyes claim me like a gentle hold and he laughs, shaking his head at me. “Next big thing, huh?”

I stare up at him, wondering if he’ll kiss me, and I can feel that my eyes are sparkly in that way they get when I’m really happy. Neil gazes down at me, neither of us move, and belatedly I note that it was my turn to talk and I didn’t.

I flush and say quickly, “Yep, you are Mr. Next-Big-Thing. I saw you on TV a few days ago, and that’s what the interviewer said before they cut away, that the buzz is you’re definitely going to be the next big thing.”

Neil gives me a pained, sweetly exasperated look. “That’s Ernie Levine’s publicity machine. You know how managers are. It’s just bullshit, Chrissie. I’m more like
Mr. broke, tired, glad to be off the road, and really glad to see you
kind of a thing.”

I laugh. “I’m glad to see you, too.”

Neil relaxes casually against the doorframe, his green eyes twinkling in an
oh-so-Neil
impish way. He touches my cheek and says, “That’s probably because Rene is giving you shit about when my stuff will be out of here.”

“She is not. She’s going to be thrilled when she gets back from class and finds you here.” I tilt my head toward the living room. “Come on in.”

Neil ambles into the living room as I close the door and re-attach the chain. He stares at the disorderly room, and his laughter comes loudly this time as his chestnut waves dance on his shoulders when he shakes his head.

He turns to smile at me. “Rene is going to be thrilled? Is that why there are boxes stacked floor to ceiling against the wall?”

I scrunch up my nose, making a face at him. “Those aren’t for
you
. We move out next month. You know Rene and her lists and her hyper-organized tendencies. She made us start packing a week ago.”

“Yep, that definitely sounds like Rene.”

Neil sinks down on the couch and I settle close beside him, legs bent beneath me, my bottom resting on my heels.

“So how long are you staying in Berkeley?” I ask.

“Don’t worry. I’m leaving in the morning,” Neil teases.

He says that in the familiar tone we banter with, but for some reason it makes cold needlelike pricks run the surface of my flesh. “You can stay as long as you want.”

Neil’s expression changes and the smile leaves his face. He gives me a sharp once-over and frowns. “Are you OK, Chrissie?”

I nod. “I’m great.”

“Well, you don’t sound great.” His frown lowers and it looks like he’s seeing me more thoroughly and not liking what he sees. Inwardly, I cringe, and then he says, “And you don’t exactly look great either. In fact, you look really not good, Chrissie.”

I flush and give him a pointed stare as I anxiously straighten my frumpy, oversized Cal sweats. “Thanks a lot. I’ve been throwing up all day. I think I ate something bad last night.”

He crinkles his nose. “Sorry. I probably shouldn’t have said that, right? Not one of my swifter comments.”

“Definitely, not one of your swifter comments. I didn’t feel like getting dressed today, but it’s nothing. Food poisoning.”

He grimaces and then asks, “Do you need me to get you anything? Do you want me to make you some tea? That might be good in your stomach if you have a touch of food poisoning.”

I shake my head, though Neil’s wanting to try to help me is unexpected and overwhelming. Even after everything that’s happened between us, he is still kind and caring Neil. How stupid I was to worry even for a minute that he would make this terrible for me.

“I’m OK, Neil. You don’t need to make me tea. It’s not that bad right now. I’ll be better by morning.”

He looks relieved and smiles. “Do you want me to come back tomorrow to get my junk? You look like you’re feeling pretty lousy. If you need to rest, I’ll get out of your way.”

He doesn’t wait for an answer and starts to rise from the couch. I grab his arm. “No. Don’t leave. I’m fine. It’s not that bad. I thought you were going to stay here tonight, hang out so we could catch up.”

His eyes widen and he looks surprised.

“Really? I thought you wouldn’t want me here so I planned on grabbing a couch at a friend’s in the city.”

For some reason I’m unexpectedly hurt by that. We parted in a good place. Still friends. Didn’t we?

“Well, I thought you were going to grab my couch,” I counter quietly. Something in how he looks at me makes me anxious and sad. I add, “I really want you to stay here, Neil.”

I can feel him watching me in that way he has when he’s trying to make sense of me. A few seconds pass. He sinks back down on the couch.

“Thanks, Chrissie. If you are sure you feel up to it and you’re cool with it, I would really like to stay here tonight.”

“Good.”

Neil sighs, closes his eyes and lays his head back against the couch. “Fuck, it feels good to be here. It’s quiet here. I can breathe. I’ll probably be terrible company tonight. I feel like I could sleep for a week.”

My anxiety fades and I take in more detail of him. He definitely looks exhausted. Neil is such a gorgeous guy—tanned skin; tall, long, lean-muscled body; messy sun-streaked shoulder-length chestnut waves framing a strongly featured face with brilliant green eyes—I often miss details, like the fatigue lines beneath his eyes and around his lips.

“You look really tired, Neil. Was it awful out on the road this time? You didn’t make it sound awful whenever we talked on the phone. You always sounded really good. Happy. ”

Neil chuckles in a tired, loose way. “Worst four months of my life, ever. Trust me, Chrissie, it was miserable every day. The larger the venues, the more shit. Everything went wrong that could go wrong from the first day out of Seattle. And the fucking band fought almost the entire time. The minute things start to go good everyone goes crazy.”

His eyes open and I make a pout of sympathy.

He reaches out to lightly touch my cheek. “It feels good to be here with you. I missed you so much, Chrissie. I kept thinking about you. What I did wrong. I know I fucked up. Why you dumped me. I get it.”

“You didn’t fuck up,” I say contritely, guilt flooding my digestive track. “And I didn’t dump you. We are just going in different directions and it didn’t seem fair to you or to me for us to try to stay together. It was the right thing for us both, Neil.”

His eyes burn into me, and the heat increases across my cheeks.

“No, Chrissie. It wasn’t the right thing for me. Not by a long shot. You always thought I was joking when I asked, but I really did think we’d end up married someday.”

“I thought you weren’t going to do this, Neil.”

He runs a hand through his hair in an aggravated way. He looks impatient and annoyed with himself. “You’re right. Sorry. I won’t do it again.”

I stare down at my fingers, digging into my knees. “I’m not someplace where I can even think about us. I just want to hang out. Keep everything light. I could really use that, Neil. OK?”

“I said I won’t do it again,” Neil counters, and I can’t tell if he’s irritated with me or himself.

This moment just got extremely awkward, to the point of feeling almost smothering, and I’m starting to feel really badly when the front door opens with enough force to hit the wall with a boom. We both turn to look as Rene pauses in the doorway, hands on hips encased in too-short Cal shorts, her pretty face awash with pretend irritation.

“When the hell did you get back?”

Neil laughs, pulling his body away from me to settle with more space between us on the couch.

“About twenty minutes ago. How ya doing, Rene?” he says, amused.

Rene closes the door and crosses the room in a flurry, dropping down on the couch on the vacant spot beside Neil. I watch her lean in to give him a sloppy kiss on the cheek, and their easy closeness gives me a sharp stab in my stomach. They hated each other when Neil first moved into the condo, and now they are more comfortable as friends than I am with Neil.

Rene’s pretty face fills with a dazzling smile. “Really. How long are you staying?”

“A day. Maybe two…” He makes a face in my direction. “…or I might just stay until Chrissie kicks me out.”

They laugh, and I fight not to let show how much that jab hurt me. Neil was only teasing, messing with me like he likes to do, but I still feel badly about how I treated Neil. I miss him more than I ever thought I would, and every lighthearted taunt seems to hold an edge and bite today.

Rene taps Neil on the chest with an index finger. “I’ve got plans tonight, but your ass is mine in the morning. I don’t have class until noon. Why don’t we go out, grab some breakfast, kick around Berkeley for a while?”

“Deal,” Neil says as Rene springs up from the couch. He follows her with his eyes until she disappears into her bedroom and then turns to give me a heavily exasperated look. “I will never get used to it when Rene is being nice.”

“I told you she would be glad you’re here.”

His expression changes and something about his eyes makes me tense. “Are you glad I’m here or is this hard for you? I can’t quite figure out what I’m feeling from you.”

Crap
. I take in a deep breath to steady myself. “I’m just going through some stuff, Neil. It’s no big deal. It doesn’t have anything to do with you. I’m really happy you’re here. It’s just me. OK?”

Neil leans into me, his eyes filled with concern. “Anything serious?”

I struggle to hold back my words. For some reason, the second Neil walked through my door the urge to blurt out my problems to him has been almost overpowering.

I shift my gaze away from his. “Nothing serious. I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want ruin you being here with my lame drama.”

He lifts my chin so I have no choice but to meet his eyes. “Lame drama, huh? Nope, not buying it, Chrissie. Tell me what’s wrong. I can tell when something is pretty fucked in your world. I’ll help however I can.”

When I don’t answer him, Neil shakes his head, exasperated, and pulls me against him.

“God, you’re really frustrating at times. Most girls can’t wait to tell you their shit, and it’s like pulling teeth to get you to say anything about anything even when I ask you to.”

I roll my eyes, and try to manage a
don’t make a big deal of this
kind of face. “I’m just fucked up that way.”

“You’re not fucked up in any way.” He lets out a long, sort of angry exhale of breath. “I hate that you say that about yourself. I’d like to kick the shit out of whoever said that to you and made you believe it.”

I can feel my eyes start to burn with tears and I don’t want them to. I don’t know how he can think I’m not a fucked-up girl after how I treated him, but then Neil has never known me the way Alan does. It was Alan who said that to me—
you’re a pretty fucked-up girl
—but he said it for a good reason, to try to help me, back when he used to care about me.

I bury my face against Neil’s chest. Into his shirt, I whisper, “I’ve fucked up big this time. If I told you everything, you would hate me. And I don’t want you to hate me. Not ever.”

Neil’s arms tighten around me. “Nothing would ever make me hate you, Chrissie. Whatever is going on it’s going to be OK. Talk to me. I want to help. We’ll figure out together how to fix whatever has got you so worried and afraid.”

Worried and afraid?
How can he see that? That’s how I feel today. I just didn’t know it showed.

I turn in his arms to put space between us. His eyes are lush green and unguarded, and something in his gaze nearly makes the words spill from me.

“I’m sorry I’m such a pain,” I whisper.

“You’re not a pain. We’re friends. Friends help each other during the shitty times. I’m glad I’m here at a time when you need me. It’s one of the things I did wrong. One of the things I regret. Not being here for you as much as you were always here for me. Tell me what’s going on, Chrissie. There is no point pretending things are OK. Not with me, and I want to help. I owe you a lot.”