Repeat - Kylie Scott Page 0,18
waiting. The female tattoo artist from the shop is holding hands with a man. Even in a simple yellow dress, she’s beautiful enough to give me a severe case of the dowdies. My hand immediately reaches up to adjust my hair so my scar is covered. I hate getting all self-conscious.
“Are you kidding me?” is all the woman says, getting to her feet.
Ed stiffens at my side while Gordon wags his tail, happy to have more visitors.
“Beautiful. Relax.” The man still sitting on the steps tugs on the woman’s hand.
“Relax?” she responds.
“Come on,” says Ed, ushering me forward with a hand to my lower back. We go in ahead of the couple on the stairs, keys jangling as Ed unlocks the front door and then the door to his condo. “Calm down, Tessa. I told you the situation.”
Off his leash, Gordon trots over to his water bowl on the floor at the end of the kitchen counter. The living room seemed big before, but Tessa’s anger fills it up fast.
“I just . . . how could you, Ed?” she says, pacing.
“Babe, have a heart,” the man she came with says, collapsing onto one of the sofas with a nod in my direction. “You really don’t remember anything, huh?”
“No, nothing,” I answer, lingering near the door.
Tessa mutters something along the lines of, “Have a heart, my ass.”
“Clem, this is Nevin and Tessa. Friends of mine.” Ed’s in the kitchen, pulling beers out of the fridge. “Take a seat, it’s fine.”
If he says so. I perch on the edge of the unoccupied couch, grateful when I get passed a cold bottle. Not only am I in need of a drink, but it gives my hands something to do. Because this whole scene is beyond uncomfortable.
Eventually, Tessa sits down, her arms and legs crossed. I ignore her glare to the best of my ability. Gordon comes over and sits on my feet. Bless him for his loyalty. Dogs really are a girl’s best friend.
“So what happened?” asks Nevin, watching me with interest. He’s a good-looking man, lean and muscular with brown skin. Indian descent, perhaps. “How’d you get amnesia?”
Ed groans. “Man, she doesn’t want to talk about it. Stop and think. You’re complete strangers to her and you want her to just open up about bad shit like that?”
Tessa harrumphs.
“What did I do to you?” I ask. Not hostile, just curious.
The woman doesn’t hesitate. “You broke Ed’s heart and then you tried to drag Nevin and me into your shit storm, and I am not interested in forgiving you.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
There’s not really anything else I can say. Curiosity makes me want more details about how on earth I entangled the two of them in my and Ed’s implosion. But given Tessa’s hostility, asking for more information would not be constructive. So I set my beer aside, ease my feet out from beneath Gordon’s butt, and give Ed a smile. “Thanks for letting me visit.”
He just nods, rising to his feet. “I’ll wait outside with you.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“Yes, it is.”
No point arguing. I give Nevin and Tessa a strained smile. Tessa ignores me, but Nevin lifts his hand in a friendly enough wave. Someone should really write a guide for what to say in these situations. Etiquette for reconnecting with an ex after suffering amnesia. That would be quite useful.
Gordon whines unhappily when Ed tells him to stay inside. After giving the dog a pat and a hug goodbye, I get the hell out of there. Outside on the street, I can at least breathe easy. Ed stands beside me in silence as I pull out my cell and request an Uber. Everything between us is now cold and distant. I hate it. In all honesty, I’d rather be bewildered by desire than left bereft like this.
So I’m not emotionally empty when it comes to him. Now I know.
“Sorry for making things awkward with your friends,” I say.
“Thought we weren’t going to say sorry anymore.” Arms crossed, he stares off into the distance. “You and Tessa used to be close.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. That’s why she’s so mad at you. Mostly.”
I don’t know what to say.
In this part of the city, at this hour of the day, it only takes three minutes for my ride to arrive. I climb into the backseat, still searching for words. Something to take the edge off what happened. I should thank him, I should . . .
“Take care,” says Ed, shutting the car door.
And we’re done.
Chapter Four
“Amnesia chick?”
The barista grins, handing over