Never Say Never (13 page)

“Hey.” She wrapped her fingers around my upper arm. “I hope you’re not upset or anything. You don’t have to worry. I’m okay. I’m not going to do anything crazy or anything. Really.” I realized that she thought I was worried about her reaction, when all I cared about was making sure she couldn’t read my mind. Surely my heart was plainly on my sleeve.

I let my eyes move to hers and was surprised to see that she was smiling, looking almost exuberant. My feelings were safe.

“You mean you’re not going to hold it against me?”

“Nope.” Her fingertip traced a cross over her heart. “I’m fine.”

“Good.” Great. Sara was fine. I had to escape, to give myself time to get a grasp on my raging emotions. But I could think of no way to get away easily. “Don’t take this the wrong way or anything, but I need to go back to my room. Okay?” Her smile fell. “Leslie. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Really,” I insisted.

“Are you upset?”

“I’m not upset. Sara. Really,” I lied, now dangerously close to tears. Forcing a smile, I met her doubtful gaze. “I’m just tired. It’s been a long weekend.” Michelle seemed miles away. “And this conversation’s been a little draining. That’s all. Don’t worry.” I said the last words as I hoisted myself from the mattress. “Feel like taking a swim in the morning?”

“Sure.” Her response was terse. “Knock when you’re ready.”

“Okay.” Again I forced a smile. “Good night, Sara.” I wasn’t sure if she replied. I turned blindly and made my way through the open doors, closing the one on my side and fumbling to lock it with shaking hands.

I don’t think I slept at all that night. My mind raced while I lay awake, replaying the events of the evening over and over, always lingering over the kiss. Then I mentally dragged myself back to reality and my anger took over. It had taken me so long to get over that infatuation. And now there I was, right back to where I’d been months ago. Old feelings swelled inside me.

Why had she wanted me to kiss her?
Probably an experiment. A way to exorcise the past and the pain she’d suffered since high school.
Well, I hope it worked.
But what if she wanted more? What if she became curious and decided she wanted to explore her sexuality? Like Julie had. My thoughts drifted to Julie. That’s all I had been to her. A curiosity. An experiment. Well, I wouldn’t let it happen again. I’d learned that lesson long ago. And I would never, ever let myself be some kind of guinea pig for Sara.

By the time my alarm clock went off, I was bleary-eyed.

Thankfully, the day passed without Sara mentioning what had happened the night before. Perhaps I’d imagined its significance.

The project was moving along quickly. Billy was ecstatic since it looked like we would meet all our original deadlines. My emotions were mixed. It would be good to get back home, but I’d grown fond of Atlanta as well.

Sara and I continued to spend much time together as always.

I kept waiting for her to drop a bomb in my lap, but she didn’t.

Apparently she wanted to forget the kiss had ever happened, I reasoned. Either that, or the kiss had really been far more important to me than to her. I was probably right on both counts.

As the end of the week neared, Michelle called and invited both of us out to dinner on Thursday night. I fully expected Sara to turn down the invitation, but she accepted eagerly.

We took our rental car to a barbecue restaurant just outside Atlanta. The ribs were absolutely heavenly, and we made gluttons of ourselves. I’d been concerned that the evening might prove uncomfortable, but I needn’t have worried. Michelle and Sara got along famously, and I found myself in the position of being a spectator, watching and laughing at their conversation, but not really participating. They were both in rare form, incredibly funny and boisterous.

My eyes moved between them, and I couldn’t suppress the smile that came to my lips. They were so different, yet each so striking in her own way. Michelle so alluring, and Sara so lovely.

My mind created an image of the two of them together, as lovers.

They would make a great couple.
Oh, the heads would
turn!
As the thought took hold, my stomach began to sour. Great.
I can see it
now. I introduce them to each other, and they fall in love.
I shook my head and spent the rest of dinner trying not to let the thought slip back into my mind.

When we returned to the hotel, Sara joined Michelle and me in my room. They continued to banter for a short while before Michelle had to leave.

“I have a lesson at six,” she grumbled. She turned to me and asked if I was going to stay in town for the weekend.

“I’m not sure,” I told her. “I was thinking I should probably go home.”

She frowned playfully. “I can’t convince you to stay?” 

I was aware of Sara’s watchful eyes. “I’ll think about it and call tomorrow, okay?”

Satisfied, she turned back to Sara and said good-bye. Sara responded by thanking her and telling her that she’d had fun.

Awkwardly, I followed Michelle to the door, expecting to drop a quick kiss on her lips before I let her escape. But she caught me up in her arms, kissing me slow and hard until I was out of breath.

“I really think you should stay,” she said under her breath.

Then she grinned and put a hand to my cheek before vanishing behind the door. My cheeks were flushed when I turned back to Sara’s reproaching eyes.

“You didn’t kiss me like that.”

My head snapped back. My neck was suddenly taut with anxiety as the emotions I had so carefully suppressed all week burst forth, exploding in anger.

“I’m not sleeping with you, either.” The razor-sharp words stung her, betraying my feelings. We stared at each other, both of us surprised and fuming. I became contrite, wanting to apologize but not trusting myself to speak.

Her eyes narrowed. “Christ. Where in the hell did that come from? What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing is going on with me.” I moved to the bed and flung myself across it. “Stop analyzing me.” I was acting like a spoiled brat.

She continued to watch me, frowning. “Are you mad because I didn’t leave you two alone? Because I went to dinner with you?” My laugh was brittle. “Yeah. That’s it, Sara. You’re right again. You know me so well.” Sarcasm dripped from my voice.

“I don’t think I know you at all.” Her voice was quiet, almost sad. She strolled to the door, slowly pulling it open and stepping out to the hallway. I fought the urge to call her back, my eyes burning as I heard the lock click into place behind her.

The downward spiral had begun. I was self-destructing and sabotaging the friendship. I could see it, feel it, and know that I was responsible. But I didn’t know how to stop it. How would I ever get past this? How could I ever get back to just being her friend?

Sara joined me for breakfast the next morning. We were quiet and tentative with each other, both still stinging from the night before. The day wore slowly, and I was still undecided about whether or not to go home. I thought of the questions that Susan would ask. And the answers that I didn’t have for her. Maybe I’d just stay in Atlanta after all.

At the end of the day I looked around half-heartedly for Sara, not surprised when I couldn’t find her. Assuming she’d already left for the hotel, I trudged back on my own. Once there, I called Michelle to let her know I’d decided to stay in town. She explained that she had to work that night at the bar, but maybe I could come down later and keep her company? I agreed that I would, then changed into shorts and a T-shirt while I tried to relax and watch the evening news.

A light tapping from the other side of the connecting doors interrupted my thoughts. Reluctantly, I swung my legs off the bed and stepped to the door, pulling it open. Sara was leaning against the doorjamb, dressed in jeans and a hunter green sweater, a jacket and overnight bag slung over one shoulder. Her expression was almost sheepish.

“Hi.” Her eyes dropped, taking in my casual attire. “I thought maybe we could share a cab to the airport.” I shook my head, feeling like a jerk again. “I decided to stay.” She looked crestfallen. “Michelle?”

I nodded. “She’s working tonight, but I’ll probably go down to the bar and join her later.”

Again she nodded quietly, then smiled weakly. “I had a lot of fun with her last night. I can see why you’re so attracted to her.”

“She’s a sweetie,” I agreed.

“But it’s not serious.” She was fishing again, and I had to laugh.

“No. It’s not serious.”

She nodded again, hedging, looking like she wanted to say something else. “I was hoping that we could talk on the plane. I had something I wanted to tell you.”

“Not another confession.”

She smiled. “Well, kind of.”

My heart sank. I didn’t think I could take much more. “Should I sit down?” I tried my best to be lighthearted.

She nodded, then reached out to touch my arm as I turned away. “No. I was just kidding.”

Relieved, I leaned against the door, careful to keep distance between us.

“I think you’ve misread me.” She stopped and laughed at herself. “I mean, I’m sure I’ve been difficult to read.” I decided to sit down after all, pulling out a chair several feet away and folding myself into it. She remained where she was, leaning against the doorway.

“I’ve wanted to tell you,” her face colored as she paused.

“The other night, when you kissed me...” I tried not to flinch as I braced myself for her words. “It was very nice. I wanted you to know that it was special.”

I felt my resolve weaken as I returned her steady gaze.

“And last night. I wasn’t trying to be a jerk when I said that about you kissing Michelle.” She took a deep breath, pressing farther into the doorway. “I was jealous. Pure and simple. I wanted to kiss you that way too.”

After a solid week of preparing myself for the possibility of this moment, my response was well rehearsed, quick, and cutting.

“Ah. The old curiosity and the straight-woman theory comes through again.”

She looked like I’d kicked her in the stomach.

“That’s all you can say? I tell you how I feel and you throw it back in my face?”

In all of my imaginings, I’d never anticipated how I might reply to her anger. Or her hurt.
Stop it. Stop it.
“I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair,” I backpedaled. “This just feels vaguely familiar, and, you know, rule number one.”

“Fuck your rules. I can’t believe I bothered to tell you this.” Her hands were clenching and unclenching, her face bright red. “God. I’m so stupid.”

“Sara.” I stood up and moved toward her. “I’m being a jerk.”

“You’re right. You are.” She began to back away from me, shaking her head.

Oh god, I’d done it again.
“Sara.” Again I approached, but she continued to back away until she was in her own room and it was I who was standing in the doorway.

She turned back to face me just as she reached the door to the hallway. “Tell me. If you’re not serious about Michelle, then what’s the attraction? What is it, Leslie? Why are you seeing her? Is it the excitement?” She was goading me. “Just for fun? Great sex? What?” Her hand was resting on the doorknob behind her.

“Or is it just your ego?”

“It’s safe,” I shrugged.

“Because it’s safe? That’s sad.” She shook her head, her tone sarcastic. “That’s really sad. But you know, I’m not a bit surprised.” Her laugh was caustic. “I have a plane to catch.” Before I could think of a retort, the door was open and she was gone.

I paced the room for what seemed like hours until I could no longer stand it. I slipped into a pair of jeans and sneakers, pulled a sweater over my head, and grabbed the keys to the rental car.

Without so much as a look in the mirror, I was out the door and headed for the bar.

Once in the car, I changed my mind and headed for the highway, feeling the need to clear my mind before I saw Michelle.

I scolded myself over and over. How could I have talked to Sara like that? How could I have been so vicious, so vindictive?

Congratulations, Leslie. Job well done.

The knot in my stomach took hold and grew, overwhelming me until I felt ill. My instincts told me to track her down, call her, anything. Let her know I’d do anything to take it back. But the other part of me took over, working to calm me down, coldly pointing out that it was better this way.

I tried to convince myself that it didn’t matter, all the while knowing that nothing else did. Finally, some two hours later, I found my way back to town and the place where I knew I could find some solace.

Thankfully, Michelle was glad to see me. I found her in the room with the dance floor, standing at the far end behind the bar, her chin propped on an upturned hand as she watched several couples dancing. The smile on her face disappeared once she registered my distress. She moved to my side of the bar to wrap her arms around me in a comforting hug.

“Honey, you look absolutely miserable,” she whispered in my ear. My chin trembled, and I felt dangerously close to tears. She stood back to search my eyes. “What’s wrong, Leslie?” I couldn’t speak. I was too afraid the tears would spill. She hugged me again, holding me a little longer before pulling back and guiding me to a bar stool.

“Sit,” she directed, and I complied. Miserably, I just stared at her while she held my hand and watched me.

“Is this about Sara?”

I was astonished. “How did you know?” I found my voice.

“She was here,” she said quietly.

“She was here?” Incredulous, I nearly jumped from my seat, but Michelle reached out to hold me still.

She nodded. “Don’t be mad. She needed someone to talk to and I was the only one she could think of.”

“She came here to talk to you?” My spine stiffened with fury, then swiftly changed to anxiety. “What did she say?” Michelle shrugged. “That you had argued. That she was on her way to the airport but couldn’t leave.” Her smile was lopsided.

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

“No.” I rolled my eyes. “Yes. I think I need to.” I sighed. “Do you mind?”

“That’s what I’m here for,” she assured me. “Hang on, I’ll get you a drink.” She slipped back to the other side of the bar and returned with a glass of chablis and a bowl of pretzels.