The Light Between Us (10 page)

“
Uh, dating?” 

“
Yes,” Derek said, relishing the puzzled look on the younger man's face.  “Which makes me very curious as to what you're doing here, in the morning, shirtless and making breakfast for the woman I brought flowers and chocolate for.”

“
I – well, we just met last night.  She didn't say – I mean, I never would have – I'm really sorry, man,” Sam said, the half-cooked eggs forgotten, the blood fleeing the blonde man's face.

“
Yeah.  I'm sorry, too.”  Derek set the flowers and chocolate bar on the kitchen table.  He shook his head.  “You know what, just – forget it.  I'm going to go.”

“
What do you want me to tell her?” Sam asked, following him to the door.  “About the flowers?”  Derek's anger joined with a sick feeling of self-disgust. 

“
Whatever you want,” Derek said, opening the door.  He paused, turning to face Sam.  “Tell her the flowers are from you.  I don't give a damn.”

Derek turned and slammed the door in Sam's face, relishing the impact's vibration jolting through the soles of his shoes. 

He strode out of the apartment building and down the sidewalk as fast as he could, eager to get as far from this place of his shaming as possible.  Derek felt his lip curling in derision.  He couldn't believe he'd fallen for this woman, couldn't believe how he'd tied himself up in knots over her . . . and she'd gone out and fucked some other guy while he was in agony. 

I knew this was a bad idea.
Derek shook his head at himself, pounding the pavement, not seeing the city blocks slide by him. 
I
knew
it.

This was his fault, he knew.  He never should have let Ruth in, let the way she caught his eye catch at his heart, too.  He felt like an idiot letting himself being taken in like this.
So amateur
.  There was no way he'd make that mistake again.  Ever.

* * *

Ruth wiped the water from her skin and wrapped her hair in a towel, then tiptoed back the bedroom, smelling something delicious wafting from the kitchen. 

“
Mmm, whatever that is smells great,” Ruth called to Sam as she opened her closet.  “I'll be right there.” 

As she scanned the clothes hanging in the closet, a moment of indecision gripped her.  What to wear to tantalize Sam?  Something cozy or sexy, or something else entirely?

But then
, she remembered,
I've already tantalized and won him over, just by being myself haven't I?
  So she threw on her faded and inordinately comfortable Star Wars t-shirt, a soft gray thing stamped with the image of Boba Fett, the bounty hunger, and then slid into her favorite pair of jeans. 

Tying her tendrils into a damp bun on the top of her head, she walked into the kitchen to see Sam pushing eggs around a pan.  “Yum,” she said, coming up behind him and wrapping her arms around his waist.  “Did you add salsa?”

He nodded.  “Yeah.” 

Something in his voice caught at her, making her frown.  She stepped back, moving to his side so she could see his expression.  About to ask him what was up, the words died on her tongue when she saw a massive bouquet of white roses on the table, partially obscuring what looked like a bar of chocolate.

“
Did you . . . ?” she began, mind calculating.  She didn't take that long of a shower.  Where could he have gotten the flowers and chocolate from?  “Did you . . . order me flowers?”  A smile played around her lips, loving the surprise even though she couldn't figure out the logistics of its possibility. 

“
I didn't.”  That same something was in Sam's reply again, and this time she could see his brow furrowed in – what?  Anger? 

“
Then how –?”

“
They're from your boyfriend,” Sam spat out, throwing the spatula he was using down and moving the pan of cooked eggs off the hot burner.  “You know, the one you didn't tell me about.”

“
My boyfriend?” Ruth asked, shaking her head.  What the hell was he talking about?  “I –”

“
You made a cheater out of me, Ruth.”  Sam crossed his arms, turning to face her, his hazel eyes burning with hurt, his voice no less powerful for its lack of volume.

“
No –”

“
And maybe,” he continued, ignoring her protestations, “that doesn't matter to you.  But it matters to me.  I do not want to be a cheat, and you made me one without telling me.  That is seriously not okay.”

He headed for the bedroom, shoulders slumped.  Ruth followed after him.  “Sam, please.  I'm really sorry . . . but I honestly have no idea what you're talking about.”

He snorted.  “Well, the man who brought the chocolate and flowers seemed to know all about it.”

“
Man?  What man?”

“
I don't know, some guy who looked like he could model for a living.”  Sam pulled a shirt over his head.  “His name was, I don't know, Dylan or Derek or something.”

Ruth froze.  “Derek?  Derek brought the roses and chocolate?”  She stared hard at Sam, trying to figure it out.  How could Derek have brought it, after he'd betrayed her yet again?             

“
Yeah, I guess.  Things sounding a little more familiar now?”  Sam retrieved his shoes from the corner where he'd kicked them along with his socks, starting to tug them on.

“
No, not really.”

“
I don't understand why you keep lying to me about this, Ruth.  I know you're dating him.  Stop denying it.  It's kind of ridiculous.”

“
I'm not lying,” she said, hands on hips.  “Yes, I know Derek, but we are certainly not dating.  I don't know what he said to make you think that –”

“
How about, 'we're dating'?” Sam snorted.

“
Well, we are not dating.  Not as far as I know, anyway.  We met two nights ago, and in that time he's apparently been with two other women.  And,” she added, veins throbbing with the injustice of the situation, “just to be clear, neither one of those women was me.”

Sam pursed his lips, staring at her long and hard.  “Fine,” he said at last.  “So, why'd this guy show up on your doorstep with presents if you're not together?”

Ruth shook her head, shoulders going limp.  “That,” she said, her brain tumbling with possibilities, each as mystifying as the last, “is an excellent question.”

Chapter 6

Ruth was laying a sheet of morning work on each of her students' desks when Padme sung into the room's early Monday morning quiet.

“
So,” Padme's voice filled with anticipation, “you have got to tell me how this weekend went.”

Ruth paused in her work, unsure of what to say.  “It was . . . interesting,” she finally said, continuing on her route.

“
Interesting how, exactly?  I have been tied up in knots, waiting to hear what happened with Derek.  And I'm really hoping for a saucy, coital tale that is completely inappropriate for work.  So, dish.”

Finished passing out papers, Ruth leaned against one of the desks, shrugging.  “Well, I guess there was some sauce,” she began slowly.

Padme squealed, stamping her feet in excitement.  “Yes!  That is amazing.”

“
Um, that probably depends on how you define amazing.”

Her friend frowned.  “That sounds decidedly less coital that I was expecting.  What happened?”

Ruth shrugged.  “Well, I met this guy.  A poet, if you can believe it.  His name is Sam and –”

“
Wait. 
Wait
.  Are you telling me that said sexiness happened with
not
Derek?”

Nodding, Ruth continued, “I met him at the coffee shop I went to write at on Saturday night.  And he was really nice, and . . . I don't know what got into me, but I basically invited him home with me  We went out for a couple drinks, and then after . . . well, you know.  The coital tale.”  Ruth felt herself blushing. 

Padme gaped at her.  “That is insane.”

“
It is
so
insane.  And in fact, I only even met him because he was getting on my nerves.”

“
So . . . in the space of twenty-four hours you, who had all but sworn off men, attracted two guys and slept with one of them?”

“
Um, yes?” Ruth said, unsure if this was a truth she wanted to own up to.

But Padme was practically jumping up and down.  “That is amazing!”  Then she hesitated, the frown returning.  “But wait.  You'd said that maybe it wasn't quite as amazing as I think.”

Ruth sighed.  “Well, Sam and I spent the night at my place.  And then in the morning, when I got out of the shower, Sam was mad and there were these white roses –”

“
Uh oh,” Padme breathed, forehead creasing. 

Ruth continued, “Apparently, Derek of all people had stopped by.  Can you imagine?  What in the world would he be doing at my apartment?”

“
Well,” said Padme slowly, “why wouldn't he be?  I mean, you said you gave him a chance to prove himself, right?  On Saturday?”

“
Yeah, and I called him that evening, like you told me to.  And you'll never guess what happened.”

“
Um, I think I can.”  An uncomfortable expression spread across her friend's face.

Ruth narrowed her eyes, taking in the guilty twist of Padme's lips.  “What do you mean?”

“
I am so sorry, Ruthie.”  Padme grabbed Ruth's hands, squeezing tight.  “I ran across Derek when I was heading home Saturday night.  And he told me about everything, and it's my fault he showed up at your place with roses.  I told him to.”

“
You told him to?”  Ruth felt her brain working hard to comprehend her friend's words.  She could practically hear gears grinding and groaning.

“
I had no idea about Sam.  I never would have encouraged Derek to go explain the situation if I'd known, I swear.”

Ruth felt a burning pressure begin to build in her chest.  “Explain what situation?”

“
The woman who answered his phone when you called?  He's not with her.  It was his friend's girlfriend.”

“
He told you that.”  Ruth's voice sounded flat to her own ears, the pressure expanding from her chest up into her throat, morphing into a throbbing ache.  She wasn't sure if she wanted to scream or cry.

Padme nodded.  “I am so, so sorry.  I never meant –”

“
Padme, I – I just –“ Ruth tugged at her curls hard, exasperated.  “I don't even know what to say.”

“
I told Derek to come beg for your forgiveness.  And I'm not above begging for forgiveness myself.”  Her friend stared at her in earnest, eyebrows raised, dark eyes full of pleading. 

Ruth contemplated taking Padme up on her offer.  The pain of hearing the woman's voice coming over the phone, the anger and hurt in Sam's eyes, her torturous inner conflict over the two men – all of this could have been saved if Padme hadn't intervened. 
Or really, interfered
, she thought.  So much confusion could have been saved. 

Finally, Ruth shook her head, squeezing Padme's hands back, though the ache in her throat did not dissipate.  “As tempting as it is, I won't make you grovel.  I know your heart was in the right place.  Although it made things way messy yesterday morning.”

“
So,” Padme said, wheels turning behind her eyes, “did Sam and Derek
meet
, then?”
 

Ruth nodded, making the other woman groan.  “Sam answered the door when Derek came by, I guess, and by the time I got out of the shower, Derek was gone, Sam was pissed, and there were roses on my kitchen table.  And chocolate.”

“
I told Derek to bring both,” Padme said, smiling weakly.  “I really screwed things up, didn't I?  What happened with Sam?”

“
Well, whatever Derek said left him with the impression that Derek and I are together.   I explained my side of things, and I think Sam believes me.  But . . . I don't know where we stand.”  She sighed.  “Before Derek showed up, Sam said he wanted to see me again.  Now, though . . .”

“
Do you want to see him again?”

“
I guess,” said Ruth.  “I mean, yes, I do.  He's so nice, Padme, and has these beautiful hazel eyes and a mess of blonde hair.  And he's a poet.”

“
You said that already,” Padme pointed out.

“
Well, it's a big turn on, okay?” Ruth wrinkled her nose. 

Padme grinned.  “Okay.”

Ruth threw her head back, rubbing her palms down her throat.  “I don't know what's wrong with me.  Things are probably destroyed with both Sam and Derek.  I mean, I have more hope of things continuing with Sam.  He didn't say he wouldn't call me, at least.  And he seems like a nice guy.  A
really
nice guy.

“
But . . .?” Padme prodded.

“
But – and I feel like an idiot for saying this – he's not Derek.  And there's just something special about Derek.  Something exciting.”

Padme peered at Ruth for a moment.  “He turns you on.”             

The blush flashed up Ruth's cheeks.  “Um.  Well.  Yes, I suppose that could be it.”

“
He makes you hot.  He makes you want to get crazy.”  Padme nodded at Ruth, whose mouth was hanging open, feeling half mortified and half mesmerized. 

Could that be it?  And was that any kind of reason to go after a man who, in just about all other respects, seemed like a terrible person to pursue a relationship with? 

“
That's –” Ruth began, then shook her head, words failing.

“
Am I right or am I right?  I'd bet good money on this.  You keep saying Sam is nice, which is great and all, but he doesn't turn you on.  Not like Derek, anyway.  And it's my personal opinion that you need some crazy loving in your life.”

Ruth glared for a moment.  “You'll understand if I'm feel a little leery about your advice right now.”

“
Ouch.  And true,” said Padme, wincing.  “But I stand by my opinion.  I mean, look what happened after you met Derek – you picked up a different guy.  You, the great mistrust-er of men.”

Ruth down at her palms, resting in her lap.  Was Padme right?  Had Derek's brazenness somehow worn off on her in the short time she'd known him?  She had seen even in the moment that asking Sam out and then home was uncharacteristic for her.  But was it Derek?  And – did it matter?

“
Maybe you're right,” she sighed at last, “and maybe you're reaching.  Either way, it doesn't mean much.  Derek's probably done with me, and I have no idea where I stand with Sam.  It's done.”

“
Do you want it to be done, either with Sam or Derek?”  She smirked.  “Or, um, both?”

“
No.  But it's all kind of ruined beyond fixing, isn't it?”

“
Look, you said that you think Sam is nice, and that Derek is . . . shall we say scintillating?”  Ruth blushed again.  “And it seems to me that Derek's had something like this coming to him, philanderer that he is.  This weekend has been one colossal misunderstanding.  No harm, no foul.”  She paused, thinking for a moment.  “Well, maybe some harm . . . but all the mistakes were honest ones.  No one was committed to anybody, no matter what Derek told Sam about the two of you being an item.”

“
Sure,” said Ruth, throwing her hands up in the air.  “But I kind of have the feeling that Derek isn't going to answer any calls from me, and Sam . . . well, he's so nice I hate to mess with his heart any more.  I didn't mean for him to get caught up in a jumble like this.  ”

“
Do I hear you choosing Derek?” Padme teased, leaning in close.

“
Ugh.  I guess.  And like I said, it doesn't matter.  He's not going to talk to me, I bet.”

“
Maybe he won't take your calls . . . but that won't stop you from seeing him again.  Groveling can go both ways.”

“
I don't know where he lives, or works.  Just forget it.”

Padme dashed to the classroom door.  “Hang on a sec,” she said, eyes glinting, and then disappeared.

Ruth sighed, getting to her feet.  She glanced at the wall clock.  Just a few minutes until  students tumbled into the school, bleary eyed from the weekend.  Moving to her desk to flip through her lesson plans for the day, she had to laugh a little at the weekend she'd had.  How was it that the last time she'd been at work, life had felt small and suffocating?  And now, in spite of the comedy of errors of the past two days, she felt somehow more awake, more hopeful, even though she didn't have reason to hope for something with Sam or Derek.  It was like she had more energy, more to give her students.  And the thought of writing wasn't a sad project of wish-fulfillment, but real and valuable. 

Was Padme right?  Had Derek given her this?  Or was it Sam?  Or something else entirely?  She shook her head.  She didn't really care where the refreshment was coming from, she was just grateful that she felt it at all.

Her friend dashed back into the room.  “Here,” she said, thrusting a small rectangular piece of cardstock at Ruth.

“
What's this?” Ruth frowned, taking the paper.  Flipping it over, she read the words
Derek Stone, J.D.,
followed by the address of a law firm, along with his cell and work numbers.  Her eyes widened.  “How did you get this?”             

“
He wanted your address.  I wanted to have his contact info so I could come kick his teeth in if he did you wrong,” Padme said, shrugging.  “I never imagined that you'd be the one doing the wrong.”

“
I did not!” Ruth protested.

Her friend laughed.  “I know.  Anyway, I've got to get to class, but I think you should pay him a visit.  I can't tell you what kind of flowers to bring, though.”