Page 66 of Shade
Could be.
“Look at this!” I stand gingerly and lift my shirt up over my head. “He gave me all these bruises and marks. I’ll wear them like bandages of Shade.”
“Maybe you should see Izzy Bizzy this afternoon,” she teases.
I wink. “Only if you’ll help me stalk Shade in California . . .”
“What did he say afterward?”
Do you see the way my face falls? Mila certainly doesn’t miss the change. “He said he’d call when he was in town next time.”
I never left my number for him. I was too embarrassed.
Do you see the way Mila’s face turns to anger?
This was why I was afraid to tell her. She needs to be happy. After nearly dying in a fire over a stupid obsessed man, she deserves happiness. The problem is, Mila’s a good friend, and if I’m not happy, she somehow puts it on herself as she needs to fix it.
When my grandma died in May, she spent a week at my apartment trying to grieve with me and force ice cream on me. I gained five pounds that week.
“Mila,” she sighs, knowing by the range of emotions in my face what I’m thinking. Can you see me? Do you see it? I’m sad whether I’m trying to hide it or not. And apparently doing a shitty job at masking it. “It’s okay. I knew what would happen when I got in that bed. I can’t expect a guy like him to fall in love with me after one night.”
One would hope, but I knew going into this that wasn’t going to happen. Given his emotional state, I definitely knew this wouldn’t happen. Can’t blame a girl for holding out a fraction of hope.
I put my hands on Mila’s cheeks and kiss her lips. I know, weird, but I do it anyway. “I love you. Not in a sexual way. Though, if you ever want to swing that way, I’d totally try you out. . . .” I pause, giggling, and then continue with, “Youdeserveto be happy. Let yourself be, and don’t you dare think for one minute I’m not. I am. I’m happy for my friend that she’s in love, and alive and living with a boy who treats her with some goddamn respect,’ I tell her, hoping I’m conveying how much she means to me and how much I truly want good things for her. “Happiness doesn’t come all at once for everyone.” My shoulders lift into a shrug. “And eventually, Shade’s going to call me because I won’t let him get away with not calling me. You will always be my best girl, Mila,” I tell her, tapping my fingers to her squishy lips. “And my offer remains.”
A knock on her office door draws our attention. It’s her boyfriend, the firefighter, carrying a box of cupcakes from Cupcake Royal.
He tips the box my way, smiling. “There’s some in here for you too, Scar.”
Take a look at Caleb Ryan for a moment. At first I was bummed I let Mila sit on his lap that night in the bar, what with his sparkly green eyes and burly frame. He reminds me of an insanely hot teddy bear.
But Shade. . . I’ll take him any day over Caleb, even with Shade’s troubled demeanor and pull-out methods.
I glance back at Mila. “I won’t tell him about our plan to become lesbians if there’s red velvet in there for me.”
Like a typical guy, Caleb takes the conversation where he wants it. “I’m definitely ready to hear this conversation.” And then he hands me a cupcake as a plea bargain. It’s red velvet, so you know, I’m tempted to walk over and kiss Mila again for having such a good boyfriend. Nothing like a cupcake to cure a bad day. “I get to watch, right?”
“That depends.” I’m always using my resources. Just watch. “Can you track someone in California for me?”
“No, but Kellan might be able to.”
I tap my finger to my chin. Kellan? Oh, right. His cop of a brother. I remember that dude. He handcuffed me to his bed and then conveniently lost the fucking key for an entire day while I remained chained up until he got off his night shift. What a motherfucker. “That won’t work. I slept with your brother and then didn’t call him back.”
Caleb hands me another red velvet cupcake like a champ. I knew I liked him. “I like you more already.”
Collecting my cupcakes, I nod to the door, and the burn in my muscles remind me of how sore I am. “I must go. I need to see Ms. Izzy Bizzy about my soreness.”
There I am, limping down the hallway and you’re asking yourself, now what? Is she really going to chase Shade to California to knock some sense into him? Or maybe you’re not. Maybe you’re just laughing at the way I’m walking and thinking, shit, she had a good fucking time.
But the further I walk, the sadder I am that I couldn’t reach him last night on a deeper level. After Asher died, my mother of all people, the crazy hair-brained freak she is, actually made sense for once when she saw me crying for a month straight. Sure, I had broken up with him that night, but it didn’t stop him from being my one great love.
And it certainly didn’t stop the demons in my head, the ones that screamed at me that it was all my fault.
She said, “You don’t find the devil under your bed, you find him in your mind.”
I’m sure, no, IknowShade can attest to that. I saw it in the eyes that never quite found mine and made my body burn for him. I hold out hope that somehow, someway, maybe I can make a difference.
As I limp toward the spa, I know he’s made a difference in mine.
