Never Can Tell (11 page)

“Never,” he says softly. “It's okay. You are not her. You will
never
be her.”

I don't know what to say, how to respond to that and tell him my fears, let them spill from me like a tsunami and overtake us both. I open my mouth once and snap it shut. When my phone rings, I answer it. Ty looks disappointed which makes my stomach drop, but I have to deal with these issues on my own. I can't burden him with anymore darkness. We're both finally crawling out of the cave and into the light. He might be a few feet ahead of me, but if I dump this on him, I could leave him behind. I won't do that.

“Never?”

It's Lacey.

“Hey,” I answer, glad for the reprieve. Ty raises his eyebrows and moves away, giving us some privacy. “How's it going?” I miss my roommate sometimes. I mean, I was never really that good to her when I was there, but she was my only friend. I shiver a little. Just thinking of what it was like, alone and desperate, grasping straws in my quest to find something worth living for, dreading weekends because I was most suicidal then. I bite my lip so hard it bleeds.

“Okay, I guess. We have finals next week, so you know,
ugh.
What are you up to?” I lick the blood away and decide to test my news on Lacey before I use it on the rest of my family. Beth seemed okay with it, but you never know how the others might react, and I don't want to do anything to disappoint them, to make them doubt me. I just want to be loved by them.

“Um, guess what?” I ask her, and she gets all excited. Being around Lacey is like being around a cocker spaniel or something. I can already imagine her tail wagging happily at the thought of good gossip. “I'm pregnant again.”

“Shut the fuck up!” she says, and I think I hear giggling in the background. Trini, I assume. The two of them are inseparable now. Lacey keeps saying they're going to run away to Massachusetts and get married, but who the fuck knows? “That was quick. I didn't even know you
could
get pregnant that soon after giving birth.”

“Yeah, neither did I.” I sit down on the bottom step and sigh heavily. “But yeah, I guess it's possible.”

“Without condoms, it's not just possible but probable,” Lacey says and I narrow my eyes. She thinks it's funny because her partner can't knock her up if she tried. Mine can impregnate me with a single kiss, a glance, the touch of his hand across mine.
Fucking stud.

“Thanks for the education,” I say. “I sure hope you're using dental dams.” Lacey doesn't take offense to this. In fact, she really doesn't take offense to much of anything. She's so … light. It's nice to see there really are people like that in the world, that not everybody has to be dragging around enough baggage to sink an ocean liner. That gives me hope for my sisters, my son, my … whoever it is that's inside of me now. I feel a little flicker of proud for saving Lacey at the convenience store. If she'd gotten raped, a little monster might've climbed into her heart and darkened the skies around her. This, of course, makes me think about Ty and how we met, really met, how we picked me up out of the glass and carried me outside, pulled shards from my skin, and sat on the beach with me to talk. Just talk. About nothing and everything, open and honest. I hope to God I don't screw things up with him.

“I was calling to see what you're doing for Christmas,” she says, and I can already tell that she has something in mind.

“Apparently, we're going to my ex-boyfriend's cabin wherein lies an anatomically correct statue of a buck and the opportunity to convince my younger sister to bite the bullet and try to get in his pants.” Lacey laughs, but only because she isn't looking Noah Scott in the face in one of those epic
oops
moments that haunt you for life. “Shit.”

He pauses awkwardly by the door, but it's too late for either of us to pretend he hasn't heard. We both stay very, very still.

“I want to see you, and we don't have any plans, and I really, really need to see little Noah, so … ”

“I'll text you the address here,” I say and she squeals. My eyes are still locked onto the baby blues of the man I lost it to, who was so sweet and kind, who I totally and completely fucked over. What if, somehow, I damage Ty the way I damaged Noah? What if I'm just not meant to be with any one person? Maybe that's why I slept around so much … because I'm not worthy of keeping. I shake my head to clear it of this bullshit. “I'll send over our schedule when we know what it is.”

“Yay! Okay, love you, Nev. I'll talk to you later. Trini and I are about to hit up the beach.” The phone call ends and I drop it into my lap. I clear my throat and get ready to apologize but Noah interrupts me.

“We had a one-night stand, Never.”

“Yeah, I mean, I guess you could call it that,” I say, feeling offended that that's how he remembers us. It might've been one night, but it wasn't a stand, it was a declaration. I pined for him for years, and that's how he thinks of us? Noah lifts up his hands and looks back and forth, flicking his eyes here and there like he expects Ty to jump out and growl. And you know, he just might do that.

“Not you and me, Zella and me.” My brows climb high and kiss my scalp. Nausea climbs my throat when a meaty smell wafts out of the kitchen, but I push it back. Noah sighs and leans against the wall, closing his eyes and sucking in a humongous breath.

“When?” I need to know everything, all the details. This is such bull. That little bitch has been keeping secrets from me. I wonder what else Zella is up to back in Texas.

“The day you left to go to New York. I, we, I knew for sure we were done for good, and I just … I lost it. I cried and I … I broke a window in your bedroom.” I think about it, but can't picture anything different. I must not have been paying attention. Either that or the midwestern wind has already coated the window is so much dirt and gunk that it doesn't look new anymore.

“Why?” Now it's my turn to look around and see if Ty's listening in. But my reasons are different than Noah's. I
want
Ty to hear. I want him to know the pain I inflicted on another person. I want him to know he can't trust me. But most of all, I want him to sweep back in here and take me in his arms. God, I'm fucking needy.

“I loved you so much,” Noah says, keeping his eyes closed, doing his best to control his breathing. “I waited for you for so long, and then not to even have a chance … ” He finally drops his chin and cracks his gaze, focusing all of that longing and need into a single beam. I have to glance away because it's not right for me to accept this. I have no hold on him, and he will never have a hold on me. I've got to convince him to move on. I thought he was okay, but this look, these feelings. Maybe he's not? “Zella was there, and we'd been talking for years, so … we had sex.” He swallows hard. “And I told her I wasn't interested in a relationship. I mean, I told her that before we had sex, so she'd know. I wasn't over you yet.”

“Have you talked about this with her?” Noah shakes his head.

“After we … finished, she got up and left. It was like you all over again. She went back to fucking Texas.” He sounds exasperated, tired, worn out. I feel sorry him, and guiltier than ever. “I wrote her a really nasty email and then, I don't know. She won't talk to me anymore.” I blink at him slowly, trying to come to terms with this. Noah Scott made a mistake. Noah Scott is capable of making mistakes. Noah Scott is not perfect. Huh. “I want to apologize, Never. I want to see her again. But I … she sent me that note about the cabin, but it was clinical. She wasn't really talking to me. She was just asking to use my place.” I cock my head to the side and automatically go for a cigarette. Gossip and smokes are like cheese and wine, they just fucking go together. Plus, I'm liking this. Noah is getting further and further away from boyfriend and lover status and closer to friend, cementing himself into that space where I always knew he'd be. Now to figure out this little dilemma. I try not to admit it to myself, but I like drama when it isn't related to me. I mean, not directly. The baby and the mom thing and Hannah … those things are my problem. This is just far enough away from my black soul that I can get into it and be helpful. I think.

“She knows that you'll be there, Noah,” I say, thinking of my sister. There's a five year gap in our relationship, sure, but I'd like to think I know enough about her to predict her behavior. “She asked because she wants to see you.” He doesn't look like he believes me. I watch as he runs his hand though his blonde hair. His buff new body is starting to make sense … “Are you interested in her?” He stares at me, and I can see in his eyes that he doesn't want to answer the question.

“I've only ever slept with two women,” he says, and I see where this is going.

“Me and Zella?” Noah shrugs. “Shit.” He licks his lips and lowers his voice. His hands are trembling a bit, whether from adrenaline or fear, I'm not sure. “Well, that's good I guess. If everybody has their hands in the pie, it probably doesn't taste as good.” I sound so bitter when I say this that Noah takes a step back like he's been slapped. I don't mean to inject any of my pain into this, but I can't help it. It's been surfacing a lot lately. I blame the baby again, the one in my belly.

“Can I ask you a question?” he begins, and I'm already nodding, chewing on the end of my cig and praying that there was some way I could actually smoke it. I take it between two fingers and slide it out. Just the motion feels fucking good.

“Sure.”

“Do you think my inexperience had anything to do with the situation?” He's dead serious when he asks this question, and it's about now that McCabe's sharp laugh echoes out from the kitchen. We both turn to look and see him sliding out from the space beside the refrigerator, emerging from the shadows all dark and liquid, sexy as hell, smoldering, like a damn flame lighting me up from the inside out. I have to pause and catch my breath.

“Sorry,” he says, and when he sees me looking at him, he smirks. “I was trying to be polite and stay out of it, but I felt like I needed to step in.”

“Step off, McCabe,” I say to him as he takes in the cigarette with a raised brow. “Where's my fucking baby?”

“Your fucking baby is with your fucking sister in the fucking yard.” He smiles and I throw my cig at him. Miraculously, he catches it between two fingers, glances around to see if Beth's watching and lights up. He's going to get himself into serious trouble. She might be being nice to him right now, but once he gets on her bad side, he's in tough shit. I'm not bailing him out. My sister is far too imposing for that. “Did she come?”

“Ty,” I groan, but he isn't listening. He's just changed from my soulmate, my dark, twisted other half, the black to my berry, the beat to my drums, the blood to my brain, and turned into a guy. And not just any type of guy, a slutty, pervy whore of a guy, a bad boy extraordinaire, dolling out sex advice to the less fortunate.

“She … ” Noah looks at me, like maybe he's not sure if he should continue or not. There's no way in shit I'm leaving them to have
bro time
, so I stay put and glare.

“I have a lot of experience,” I say purposely, making Ty bristle. He grits his teeth and blows smoke out his nostrils. It tangles around his nose ring and teases the air with the sweet, sweet scent of tobacco. “So go ahead. Not that I think that matters. This isn't inexperience or over experience or just being a downright fucking slut.” Noah looks confused, but Ty looks
hungry.
I lick my lips and Noah takes another step back from the two of us, eyeing us warily. “Zella is fucking
obsessed
with you and you hurt her. You have to make it up to her somehow. If you want to, that is. You never answered my question: are you interested in her?”

“I think I might love her,” he blurts. Ty raises his brows and puffs out his lower lip.

“You hear that, baby, he might love her.” He looks back at me, and I can see that he's boiling over with jealousy. We've both fucked our fair share of people, but I'm the only one who ever had sex with someone I cared about. He hates that. It drives him nuts.

I rise to my feet.

“Might is a strong word, Noah. It also means there's a possibility that you don't. Figure it out first, and then talk to her. She'll know. Women always know.” I turn around and start up the stairs, trailing a wave of dark smoke in my wake. Ty follows it, just like I wanted him to, accosts me at the top of the stairs and slams me into the wall. “This is spousal abuse,” I tell him, but down there, I'm soaking wet.

“You were begging for it, baby,” he grounds out around his cigarette. I forget all about the weirdness of Angelica and the pregnancy and my inadequacy as a mother, and I just Get lost in Ty. Besides, a good fuck never hurt to fill that empty hole inside. And if Ty's the one that's filling it, all the better.

“Actually, I was just coming up here to grab a book. I'm not interested in you right now.”

“Your kitty cat's telling me otherwise,” he purrs, still not playing husband or father or soul mate, still playing bad boy.

“I can't believe you just said that,” I murmur as his hand travels down the front of my pants and teases my clit through the hideous cotton granny panties I'm wearing. “Why are you so antsy all of a sudden. Does it bother you when I talk about all the guys I've fucked?” Ty growls, low and deep, takes a deep breath and tries to pull himself out of it.

“No, baby, I've accepted it. Soon, you'll be swollen with our second child, ripe with my fucking seed.” Okay, maybe not. He's still deep down in there, buried in darkness, but the good kind now, not the painful kind. “Does it bother you that I've fucked lots of women?”

“You're a slut,” I whisper as he licks my ear and spins me around.

“You're a skank,” he says with a delicious half grin.

“Whore.”

“Cunt.” He bites the word off with his teeth, so that it lands in the air like a compliment. He steps back suddenly and grabs me by the hand, dragging me into our bedroom and tossing his cig into an ashtray. There's not much in here now – boxes, an air mattress, our suitcases. This doesn't stop him from getting what he wants. He grabs the waistband of my pants and drops to the floor, dragging them down, exposing the copper curls between my legs. He presses his face there and breathes deep, flicking his eyes up to my face. I stare down at him defiantly as he untangles the pants from my ankles and stands back up.