The First Taste (Slip of the Tongue #2) - Jessica Hawkins Page 0,110

absentmindedly runs both hands over her dress. “Of course. I didn’t even think—”

“I tried to get ahold of you.”

With a sideways glance, she nods once. “I know.”

“And?”

“And nothing,” she says. “I don’t have a good excuse.”

I appreciate her honesty, but then again, me appreciating her honesty is partly what got us into this mess in the first place.

“I’m glad you’re here, though.” Her eyes soften. “I’ve been working up the courage to call. Is it all right if we talk after this?”

“We can talk now.” I look over her head instead of into her eyes. I don’t need that mesmerizing blue playing tricks on me. “I went through some shit last week. That’s why I called. I could’ve used someone to talk to.”

“Someone?” she asks. “Me?”

“Yeah.” I cross my arms. “I ask you to be my girlfriend, and you respond by ignoring my texts and pawning me off on your receptionist.”

“What happened?”

I shake my head. For the last week, I’ve been brooding, worried about what Shana’s presence means, fielding Bell’s equally valid and unnerving questions about her mom. The simplest ones are the most impossible to answer: Where is my mom? Why did she leave? Is she ever coming back? ‘I don’t know,’ is what I wanted to tell her, and basically what I’d said in a lot more words. I’m frustrated Amelia stayed just outside my reach when I could’ve used her comfort.

That’s a whole week to begin putting my walls back up. “Suddenly I don’t feel like confiding in you.”

She frowns. “I was going to call. I just needed to get my head on straight.”

“Is that how you do relationships?” I ask. “Because that doesn’t work for me. I need communication, especially after what I’ve been through.”

She looks at her hands. “I understand. At first, I didn’t respond because I thought maybe you and I were fooling ourselves to try this. There are so many reasons not to.”

I don’t need her to list them; I’ve been doing that the past few days. “Then?”

“Then I decided maybe falling for each other isn’t convenient, but maybe it could be pretty great.”

I’m taken aback at the unexpected response. I’d assumed she’d spent the last week convincing herself we wouldn’t work. “I thought so,” I say. “I fell for you.”

She lifts her eyes to mine. “You did?”

“I started to. I wouldn’t spend the night with just anyone. I wouldn’t help just anyone search for a new apartment to get her away from her ex. I wouldn’t hate just anyone’s ex as vehemently as I do yours.”

She’s quiet as she chews on her bottom lip. Somehow, her lipstick remains unperturbed. “I wasn’t expecting to see him like that, with you,” she says slowly. “I wasn’t mentally prepared for him, but suddenly . . . he was there, two worlds merging into one. And it reminded me of the truth.”

“What’s the truth?”

“Things fall apart. People lie. Cheat. Hurt each other, accidentally or on purpose. I don’t want to rely on anyone but myself. How do I know you won’t hurt me like Reggie did?”

“You can’t know that. But don’t you get it?” I ask. “You did the same thing to me that Shana did. She disappeared. You disappeared too.”

She shakes her head quickly. “I didn’t disappear. I was taking a breather. Figuring things out. I thought you’d understand, given our situation.”

“I didn’t. I don’t.” I stick my hands in my pockets and look up at the commotion by the door. Sadie has arrived, her hands over her mouth, her eyes wide. She launches herself into Nathan’s arms. When I see them together, I know love exists. I’d just thought it wasn’t for me. For the first time in years, I wanted to be wrong about that.

“What happened?” she asked. “Why did you want to talk to me?”

“If you’d called me back, you’d know.” I take a step back. It isn’t easy. I still feel strongly for her, but I have more than myself to consider.

“Is it about Bell? Is she . . . is she okay?”

I get a surge of regret with her question. Her concern for Bell touches me, but it’s too little too late. Amelia isn’t Shana, but if she’s spooked this easily, she could be. “Bell’s fine. We’ll get through it.”

“I’m sorry, Andrew.” She glances nervously at the group of chattering women. At Bell. “I . . . I like her. I didn’t even know children like Bell existed. She’s so mature but free. Wise, but still naïve and innocent. I’m