Becoming Rain
Page 50
“You’re so easygoing. I figured you didn’t have trust issues,” I say casually.
He smiles. “I do. Not sure why.”
I’m pretty sure I know why. “I get it. I have my group of girlfriends back home and I kind of stick with them.”
“You must miss them right now. That’s a big move, coming all the way out here.”
“We still text a lot, so it’s not so bad. And everyone’s busy. But, yeah. I do really miss them,” I answer truthfully. “They’re all at our annual girl’s weekend in Loudoun right now. It’s a wine region in D.C.” I missed the last trip too. Sometimes I’m afraid they’re going to blacklist me. “We’re a special group.”
“Nice. And what makes them so special? Tell me about them.”
I can’t tell if he’s truly interested, but we do have a long drive—and while I should be using it to gather information, opening up myself is how I’m going to get him to do the same eventually. Plus, being able to talk about my real friends—Clara’s friends—relaxes me.
So I start listing the ways that we’re all so different and yet our personalities seem to mesh perfectly. How we can be our true selves around each other—strengths, flaws, and all—without fear. We just “get” each other. We praise each other’s successes and call each other on our bullshit. We’re laughing from the moment we say hello until we’re forced to say goodbye.
I finish with, “I don’t know what I’d do without them in my life.”
“You haven’t stopped smiling the entire time that you’ve talked about them. They sound like a lot of fun.” He grins. “Do you have a picture?”
“Not on this phone.” I freeze. Normal people don’t have two phones unless they work, and he knows that Rain doesn’t work. I quickly improvise. “I just got this iPhone a few weeks ago after my last one broke. I need to get it fixed so I can upload everything to Cloud.”
He nods, buying my answer.
Wanting to steer the conversation away from my accidental slip and knowing that I need to be focusing on Luke and not myself, I say, “Speaking of friends—thank you for bringing me out today. They’re all nice people. I really like them.”
“Well, they loved you.” He turns to flash me a smile. Like us approving of each other is a big deal for him. The funny thing is, hearing that makes me happy. I care that they approve of me.
“Have you known them long?”
“Nah, a few years. We’ve just been through a lot together.”
“Alex said sort of the same thing earlier.” I’m not sure how to broach the subject, but I decide morbid curiosity is fair reasoning for anyone. “So . . . that’s a terrible scar on her face.”
He nods in agreement.
“What caused it?”
Luke’s jaw visibly tightens. “It’s a really long story.”
I wait another second before pushing. “It’s a really long drive.”
I know the signs of indecisiveness. Shifty eyes, multiple swallows, licking lips. He’s considering how much he should divulge, if anything. How awkward this three-hour drive will be if he blows me off.
His thumb drums against the gear stick, but otherwise he says nothing. So, I tentatively rest my hand on top of his. With just a moment’s hesitation, his fingers shift and entwine with mine, until my hand is encapsulated and we’re shifting together.
And I tell myself that this doesn’t cross any moral lines. That I’m doing what I need to do to make him talk. That also enjoying the feel of his warmth is no big deal.
“She was married before hooking up with Jesse.” I feel his eyes flash to my face. “The guy was a possessive asshole. Used to slap her around, hurt her. Treat her like shit, generally.”
“She obviously left him.”
“I guess you could call it that. She definitely got away,” he says cryptically.
I think I know where this is heading. “Before or after she hooked up with Jesse?”
“The guy fucking deserved it. It’s not like he was faithful to her. Hell, Pris was screwing him regularly! Jesse risked everything for her. His whole family has. He treats her like a queen.”
I reach for my bottle of water, hoping such a casual act will lessen the tension suddenly growing in the car. “She seems to think you played a big role in her getting away. That she wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.”
“Uhh . . .” He lets go of the steering wheel to scratch the back of his neck—an embarrassed gesture. “I was just at the right place at the right time.” He pauses, then adds, “And I did the right thing. For once.”
“Did you know her husband?”
“Yeah. My uncle’s business partner. I met him two years ago, when I started hanging out with my uncle more. Thought he was so cool back then, all rich and Daniel Craig–like. He had this really controlled, suave way about him. A Russian James Bond. He’d bring Alex around sometimes. She looked really different back then.” He snorts. “Never in a million years would I have pictured her with a guy like Jesse, shoveling shit and picking hay out of her hair.”
“She seems really happy.” The frequent glances toward Jesse, the small smiles. I don’t think I’ve ever seen two people so in love.
“She is. She got pushed into that other life too young, surrounded by the wrong people. Got trapped.”
He smiles. “I do. Not sure why.”
I’m pretty sure I know why. “I get it. I have my group of girlfriends back home and I kind of stick with them.”
“You must miss them right now. That’s a big move, coming all the way out here.”
“We still text a lot, so it’s not so bad. And everyone’s busy. But, yeah. I do really miss them,” I answer truthfully. “They’re all at our annual girl’s weekend in Loudoun right now. It’s a wine region in D.C.” I missed the last trip too. Sometimes I’m afraid they’re going to blacklist me. “We’re a special group.”
“Nice. And what makes them so special? Tell me about them.”
I can’t tell if he’s truly interested, but we do have a long drive—and while I should be using it to gather information, opening up myself is how I’m going to get him to do the same eventually. Plus, being able to talk about my real friends—Clara’s friends—relaxes me.
So I start listing the ways that we’re all so different and yet our personalities seem to mesh perfectly. How we can be our true selves around each other—strengths, flaws, and all—without fear. We just “get” each other. We praise each other’s successes and call each other on our bullshit. We’re laughing from the moment we say hello until we’re forced to say goodbye.
I finish with, “I don’t know what I’d do without them in my life.”
“You haven’t stopped smiling the entire time that you’ve talked about them. They sound like a lot of fun.” He grins. “Do you have a picture?”
“Not on this phone.” I freeze. Normal people don’t have two phones unless they work, and he knows that Rain doesn’t work. I quickly improvise. “I just got this iPhone a few weeks ago after my last one broke. I need to get it fixed so I can upload everything to Cloud.”
He nods, buying my answer.
Wanting to steer the conversation away from my accidental slip and knowing that I need to be focusing on Luke and not myself, I say, “Speaking of friends—thank you for bringing me out today. They’re all nice people. I really like them.”
“Well, they loved you.” He turns to flash me a smile. Like us approving of each other is a big deal for him. The funny thing is, hearing that makes me happy. I care that they approve of me.
“Have you known them long?”
“Nah, a few years. We’ve just been through a lot together.”
“Alex said sort of the same thing earlier.” I’m not sure how to broach the subject, but I decide morbid curiosity is fair reasoning for anyone. “So . . . that’s a terrible scar on her face.”
He nods in agreement.
“What caused it?”
Luke’s jaw visibly tightens. “It’s a really long story.”
I wait another second before pushing. “It’s a really long drive.”
I know the signs of indecisiveness. Shifty eyes, multiple swallows, licking lips. He’s considering how much he should divulge, if anything. How awkward this three-hour drive will be if he blows me off.
His thumb drums against the gear stick, but otherwise he says nothing. So, I tentatively rest my hand on top of his. With just a moment’s hesitation, his fingers shift and entwine with mine, until my hand is encapsulated and we’re shifting together.
And I tell myself that this doesn’t cross any moral lines. That I’m doing what I need to do to make him talk. That also enjoying the feel of his warmth is no big deal.
“She was married before hooking up with Jesse.” I feel his eyes flash to my face. “The guy was a possessive asshole. Used to slap her around, hurt her. Treat her like shit, generally.”
“She obviously left him.”
“I guess you could call it that. She definitely got away,” he says cryptically.
I think I know where this is heading. “Before or after she hooked up with Jesse?”
“The guy fucking deserved it. It’s not like he was faithful to her. Hell, Pris was screwing him regularly! Jesse risked everything for her. His whole family has. He treats her like a queen.”
I reach for my bottle of water, hoping such a casual act will lessen the tension suddenly growing in the car. “She seems to think you played a big role in her getting away. That she wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.”
“Uhh . . .” He lets go of the steering wheel to scratch the back of his neck—an embarrassed gesture. “I was just at the right place at the right time.” He pauses, then adds, “And I did the right thing. For once.”
“Did you know her husband?”
“Yeah. My uncle’s business partner. I met him two years ago, when I started hanging out with my uncle more. Thought he was so cool back then, all rich and Daniel Craig–like. He had this really controlled, suave way about him. A Russian James Bond. He’d bring Alex around sometimes. She looked really different back then.” He snorts. “Never in a million years would I have pictured her with a guy like Jesse, shoveling shit and picking hay out of her hair.”
“She seems really happy.” The frequent glances toward Jesse, the small smiles. I don’t think I’ve ever seen two people so in love.
“She is. She got pushed into that other life too young, surrounded by the wrong people. Got trapped.”
