Crashing Back Down (14 page)

I frowned, not wanting to discuss it further. “I don’t remember it, Cali. I blacked out.”

Cali put her burger down and turned her barstool so she could look right at me, frustration building with every word that came out of her mouth. “Margret, you kissed him today. How did it make you feel?”

Her eyes were boring into me, and I blushed again. “It was amazing while it lasted. His lips are the perfect combination of soft and rugged.” I clasped my hand over my mouth, shocked at my own words.

Cali turned back to the bar, grabbing her beer again. “Then you have your answer. Go for it. He obviously won’t say no.” The tone in Cali’s voice was dramatic and annoyed, but I knew she meant what she was saying, just reluctantly. She finished her entire beer and signaled to Todd for a refill. Knowing us too well, Todd brought us both beers and left us to continue our conversation.

With pleading eyes, I looked at her, feeling as if I was about to start falling apart right there onto my plate. “Can’t we just shoot the shit and forget about everything this afternoon? Please?” There was no reason to continue talking about my Walker situation; I told him we were just going to be friends, nothing more or less. Why was Cali swooping in now when it was too late, complicating everything?

Cali grimaced at me. “Mags, I don’t think we can ignore this one. You’ve been hiding from your feelings for too long.  Even though I would rather you be with
anyone
else, at least it’s a start to you moving on. Besides, you don’t like Kyle, and I’m married to the bastard!” Cali paused for a second, her lips softening and with love rushing into her eyes, she put her hand on my shoulder.  “I’ll always be in your corner even if you dive my bat shit crazy!” We both giggled and, begrudgingly, I agreed that if we didn’t have to talk about the subject anymore, I would think about my feelings, or lack thereof, for my roommate.

After finishing our deliciously messy monster burgers, we gave Todd hugs over the bar and promised him we wouldn’t be strangers anymore.

Cali and I got back into her car in an awkward silence. I felt a little embarrassed about our conversation, so the pause in discussion was warmly welcomed after a few uneasy moments. Luckily, Cali had no intention of pressing me anymore on the issue of our girls’ day. We went and got manicured, pedicured and plucked for the remainder of the late afternoon. We talked about frivolous things with our technicians and mostly giggled during our appointments. It felt fantastic to relax with my best friend.

Cali dropped me off, rolling down her window as she pulled out of my driveway, calling out after me. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

I waved her goodbye with a forced “Ha! I’m an angel compared to you!” 

I sighed as I turned to go into my dark, empty house. I flicked on the front room lights, remembering Walker had plans for the evening. Light feelings of jealousy hit the back of my brain, thinking he might be out on a date. I had to remind myself I told him hastily that I just wanted to be friends, so whatever he was doing was none of my business. I did find a little comfort in his comment the night before about not dating, then remembering the beginning of that conversation sent me into a momentary fit of jealous rage.
What if he’s out screwing that blonde bitch of a bartender from the night before? Yuck!

I collapsed on the couch and tried to figure out what to say to Walker when he finally got home.
Do I really have feelings for him? Or is it that I just miss Randy so much?
My brain started to hurt with all of my indecisiveness, and I flipped on the TV to try to snuff out the noise in my head. After about a half hour of Laverne and Shirley, my stomach started to growl.

Opening up my fridge, I stared at the random items, none of them perking my interest in the slightest. . Without a second thought, I crabbed a Chinese food takeout menu out of the drawer, my old standby. I placed an order for delivery, trudging back over to the couch after pouring myself a too-large-to-be-classy glass of Pinot Noir.

The doorbell rang not too long after, announcing the arrival of my scrumptious junk food. I grabbed my wallet out from inside my purse on the table next to the door and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill. The familiar smile of my delivery driver beamed at me as he handed me the brown paper bag of more greasy food, and took my money. He wished me a pleasant evening and left in a rush, practically running to his car. I had almost entirely stopped cooking for myself over the last few months, so the pizza and Chinese food delivery guys in the area all knew me pretty well as a good tipper. I smiled down at my bag of General Tso chicken and returned to my comfy seat on the couch.

I started flipping through the channels, trying to find something to distract me as I took out my chopsticks and white to-go boxes. Finally, I settled for some mushy old movie and brought my legs up to sit more comfortably. I could barely watch the movie as I ate, thinking way too much about Walker. It surprised me how much I thought about him, how many things seemed to remind me of him, and how badly I wanted him to be there with me. It almost felt like I was divided right down the middle. Half of me wanted something more with Walker, and the other thought the notion was utterly ludicrous.

Forcing myself to shut off my brain, I watched the end of the movie, envious of the couple living happily ever after at the end of their drama-filled love affair. I glanced down at my phone, realized it was only eleven thirty, and couldn’t help but wonder when Walker was going to be home. I tried not to think about that, and where he was. I dragged myself upstairs to shower off my crazy day, and climbed into bed with another glass of wine and a good book to, hopefully, lull me into a peaceful sleep for a change.

Before long, my eyelids started to get heavy. I set the book and wine glass down on my nightstand, glancing at the clock one more time. It was almost two in the morning and there was not one sign of Walker at all. A little bit of worry danced into my mind, hoping that, wherever he was, he was safe. Pushing the bad thoughts of Walker’s terrible drinking and driving habits into the back of my mind, I willed myself to fall into a deep, wine-endorsed slumber.

I
woke up the next morning realizing that I hadn’t heard Walker come in the night before.

Remembering that we had plans for breakfast, I jumped out of bed, truly excited to see him. Even though Walker had seen me at my worst, I felt the need to make myself a little bit more presentable than usual.

I lifted my shirt to take a look at my freshly peeled tattoo. The skin was still tender and itchy, but it was healing fast. I loved my bird, and the memories it provoked were all warm and happy, helping relax my crazy mind. I stroked the tender skin, applying a fresh coat of ointment, hearing Randy tell me about these birds, as I curled up into his arms on his boat one sunny afternoon. The thought of Randy made me feel a little guilty for a moment. I had to make it a point to remind myself all my thoughts were innocent and justified, at least for the most part.

I pushed the memory of Randy out of my mind in a hurry, and got back on task. I got changed out of normal pajamas of an old Army shirt and sweats, and into short jean shorts and a black scoop neck; simple with just a hint of sexy.

Figuring I had the time, since it was eight in the morning and Walker would probably still be sleeping, I turned on my flat-iron and sat cross-legged in front of my mirror to do my makeup and hair. It only took me about ten minutes to tame my sleep-tousled hair and apply a quick layer of eye makeup.

Without hearing any movement in the house still, I made my way down to the kitchen to start brewing a much-needed pot of extra strong coffee. Even though I slept straight through the night, I felt like I hadn’t slept well in the slightest, figuring my brain hadn’t turned off entirely. Everything was still overwhelming to me, but I tried my best to keep the confusion, worry, and guilt at bay. So much had changed over the last few days and my thoughts were a jumbled mess that I didn’t want to deal with anymore on my own. I longed to go wake Walker up to start to work through the tangled mess in my brain, but I forced myself to stay put.

Leaning up against the counter next to the humming coffee pot, my eyes caught onto a strange purse sitting right next to mine on the table by the front door. I froze, my mind racing around and around, my stomach lurching. I felt like something had stabbed my heart.

Before I could make a move toward the foreign bag or to run back into the safety of my room, I heard Walker’s voice from his bedroom upstairs. “Hush, my roommate is sleeping. I don’t want to wake her.”

A familiar giggle emanated from the girl coming out of his room, making my heart sink more. I knew I’d heard that laugh before, but I just couldn’t seem to place it.

Still clinging to the counter for dear life, I could hear two sets of feet tiptoeing down the stairs, coming close to the kitchen. Walker was leading someone by the hand, but stopped dead in his tracks when he realized the kitchen light was on. I could only see him as he quickly turned to face me from the entrance of the kitchen.

A panicky frown filled his face. “Morning, Mags. I was trying not to wake you.” His eyes darted to his hand as he pulled the twittering girl into my view. My jaw dropped in disbelief as the blonde bartender from The Saloon came scooting into the entryway. “Mags, you remember Cindy, don’t you?” He wasn’t making eye contact with me.

I shook off my shock and moved toward Cindy, rage bubbling up in my stomach. I wanted to punch her in her giggling face; she was intruding on my home and my man, but I surprisingly kept my composure. With the images of tackling the whore to the ground in my thoughts, I forced a smile, my anger and calmness colliding making my brain thump angrily against my narrowing eyes.

“Hi, Cindy.” I waved. “Coffee? It just finished.”

I could not believe what was coming out of my mouth; my normal course of action would have been screaming for this bimbo to get the fuck out of my house, slapping Walker for the last forty-eight hours of torment he had put me through, and now this. He had just told me he wanted to be with me a day ago, and bringing this girl to my home was how he showed it? I did my best to mask the disdain in my voice, and to my surprise, Cindy didn’t seem to notice how upset I was.

A wave of relief came over me when Cindy declined my offer for coffee, claiming she needed to get home to walk her dog. My stomach churned when Cindy kissed Walker deeply goodbye, and headed out my front door. By the time she was gone, tears were forming pink streaks down my pale cheeks.

Walker turned to me, in shock. His desperate green eyes tried to search mine for any answers. His face was twisted into painful distress and seeing it made me want to hold him. I got angrier with those emotions and screamed out loud in frustration. When he tried to choke out an apology, I just held up my hand and told him, in the most even tone I could manage, “I frankly don’t give a shit what you have to say while that bitch’s scent is still on you. Go take a shower, give me a minute, and maybe I will be able to look at you.”

Sullenly, he let his gaze drop to his feet. “Yeah, okay.”

He walked up the stairs and turned on the shower right away. I heard his sighing and frustrated rants at how stupid he was as I made my way back into the kitchen.

At least we’re agreeing on one thing at the moment, you are an ass!

I sulked over to the kitchen table, collapsing into a hardwood chair. Seeing Walker with Cindy made me see I actually wanted to be with him. My stomach was killing me, and tears were surging down my hot cheeks as sobs choked out of my burning throat.

I detested the way I was feeling. It was an utterly different type of broken heart than what I had grown accustomed to. A wave of rejection and shame crashed hard as I replayed the morning’s events in my head. The worst part of it all was how stupid I felt for being like this. The last time Walker and I spoke, I told him we were friends and roommates, and that was that. I had no claims over him whatsoever. It was not my place to say he couldn’t sleep with whomever he wanted.

With a shudder, I thought about what Walker had done the night before. Maybe he took Cindy out on a date, or just went to The Saloon and got sloshed. For some strange reason I wanted to know. I felt like if it had been the latter, I wouldn’t be as mad.
Or should I be madder?
I was tormented and defeated, crying into my folded arms on top of my kitchen table, an utter blubbering fool.

I jumped up when I felt a warm hand touch the small of my back. I looked up into Walker’s surly face and stared, unable to find any words to say to him. He knelt down beside me, resting his head on my thigh. With a big sigh, he breathed, “I am so sorry. I got drunk and she was there. I didn’t sleep with her.” I still couldn’t find words for him; I just sat still and silent, hoping he would elaborate.

After a few minutes of silence, Walker finally got up the nerve to continue. “Mitch and I went to have a few beers. One thing led to another, and shots got involved. Once I was good and plastered, she pounced, but when she got back here, I couldn’t go through with it. But I was too lit to kick her out and she was way too drunk to drive home, so I let her crash here.”