The Light Between Us (21 page)

“
Good thing I still have his number then, huh?” Padme said.  “It's at home . . . I can bring it to school tomorrow.”

Ruth shook her head.  “Can I come home with you after this is over,” she said, gesturing at the musicians, “and get it from you then?  I don't know if I can wait until tomorrow.”

Padme grinned.  “Sure, lady.”

Somewhat reassured, Ruth settled back in her seat and tried to pay attention to the performance, to lose herself in the rowdy music.  But all she could think of was Derek, and how he didn't know, and how she was about to embark upon the most insane adventure of her life with the most surprising man she could hope to share it with.

Chapter 13

Derek sat slumped at the bar, the half-consumed glass of gin in front of him holding no allure and providing no comfort. 

“
This is torture of the very worst kind,” he informed Ridger and Sandra, who were perched at his side.  The bar was strangely quite for a Thursday evening, but Derek felt glad.  The last thing he was in the mood for was the press and tumult of a crowd. 

“
That's what you get for acting like a crazy person,” snarked Sandra.             

“
Quit it,” said Ridger, nudging her.  “He's turning over a new leaf, and that is a damn good thing.”

“
You don't think I was stupid to propose?” Derek asked hopefully, turning on the stool to face his friend.

A grimace crossed Ridger's face.  “I don't know, man, it was pretty, uh . . .
surprising
.”  He fumbled for the word.  Sandra snorted.               

Derek's face fell.  He turned back to face his drink, nudging the glass with a finger, a trail of condensation glistening on the bar's surface in its wake.  “Fuck.”

“
Look,” said Sandra, rolling her eyes.  “I didn't say it was stupid to propose, just crazy.  Two very different things.”

“
They don't sound that different to me,” Derek shot back. 

“
Um, do you not know me at all?” she said.  “If there's anyone you know who embraces crazy, it's me.  Take it as a compliment.”

“
She means that you've got balls,” Ridger interjected.

“
Crazy balls,” she said, making Ridger laugh into his beer. 

You are not helping,” grumbled Derek.  “It's been a whole fucking day since I proposed, and she still hasn't called.  It's got to be official, right?  I screwed up.  I screwed it all up.”

Sandra sighed, and when she spoke her voice had softened.  “Look, just give her some time, okay?  You dropped a major bomb.  Give the girl some space to recover, to think.  It sounds like she's worth the wait, right?”

“
Certainly more than your usual female fare,” Ridger said under his breath.

“
Shut up,” said Derek. 

“
Well, it's true, man,” his friend protested.  “And I said it before and I'll say it again – I'm really glad you've gone a different way.  With women, I mean.”

“
What he means,” Sandra interjected, “is that it's about damn time you stopped being such a louse.  I can't wait to meet this chick, because she must be something special to have turned you around.”

“
She didn't turn me around,” Derek said.  “I wanted to turn me around, because of her.”

“
Same difference.”  She waved her hand airily. 

“
I get what you're saying, man,” Ridger reassured him, offering a fist. 

Derek bumped his own fist against it glumly.  “Thanks.”  He checked his phone for what was probably the millionth time.  Still nothing.  “Maybe I should call her.”

“
Derek.”  Sandra leaned forward and took his face in her hand, squeezing his cheeks so that his mouth puckered like fish lips.  “Give.  Her.  Time.”  She raised an eyebrow.  “Got it?”

“
Yeah,” he said, the reply garbled by her compressing fingers.

She released his face.  “Good.  Don't forget.  You did a ballsy thing.  Unorthodox, but not necessarily bad.  You're afraid you fucked up?  Well, you won't help things by hassling her.”

Ridger nodded.  “She's probably right.”

“
I am right,” Sandra said firmly, raising her eyes to the ceiling in a saintly expression while simultaneously flipping her middle fingers at the two men.

Ridger laughed again, but Derek couldn't managed anything more than a limp attempt at a smile. 

“
This sucks,” he informed his gin. 

“
Welcome to love, man,” Ridger said with a grin, clapping him heartily on the shoulder.               

“
Please tell me it's not always like this?”

“
No,” said Sandra with a smirk.

“
But it's worth it,” added Ridger, gathering the sassy woman into his arms and planting a kiss on her neck, making her smile in spite of herself.  “Right, lovey?”

“
Go fuck yourself,” she said, pulling away and grabbing her bag, flashing another middle finger at them as she sashayed toward the bar's pool tables.

“
That means that she agrees,” Ridger informed Derek, wiggling his eyebrows.  “Ain't love grand?”

“
It's certainly something,” Derek sighed. 
What the hell have I gotten myself into?
he wondered, shaking his head. 

Turning on his stool, Derek saw that Sandra had struck up a game of pool with a grizzled older man wearing a biker's leathers.  He grabbed his phone.

“
I'm going to call her,” he said.

“
Dude,” said Ridger, sitting up straight.  “You heard Sandra . . .”

“
I don't care.  I can't take it anymore.  I won't hassle Ruth or anything, I'll make it quick, just ask her if she's decided yet.  Two minutes, tops.”

“
I don't know, man.  You're going to ignore love advice that you heard straight from the mouth of a woman?  They don't drop their secrets very often.”

Derek shook his head.  “I'm in agony.  Just two minutes.” 

He dropped off the bar stool, Ridger's protests falling unheard on his ears, and strode for the door of the bar.  His heart lightened with every step at the anticipation of talking with Ruth, of hearing her voice and – with any luck – her answer regarding the proposal.

Derek brought her contact info up on his phone and hit send.  The phone rang just twice before it clicked in answer.

“
Hello?” came a man's voice over the line.

The words died on Derek's lips.  His stomach felt like it was attached to an anchor that had just dropped into the depths of the ocean. 

“
Hello?” came the man's voice again, sounding vaguely familiar.

Derek's mouth flapped open and closed, but he could land on no words to utter. 

“
Ruth –“ he heard the man on the other end of the line say, and at that he jerked the phone away from his ear and ended the call, chest heaving.

Jaw set, mind reeling, he walked woodenly back to the bar, grabbing his glass and downing the remaining gin in one swift movement.

Ridger eyed him with concern.  “You called her.”  It wasn't a question.             

Derek nodded, slamming the glass back onto the bar.  “I called her.”

“
And?”

He shook his head, barking a single mirthless note of laughter.  “A man answered.”

“
A man answered?”

“
Yeah.  A fucking
guy
.”

Ridger whistled, a low, swooping sound.  “Shit.  You think –“

“
She was
with
that guy?  That she cheated?  Yeah.  That's exactly why I think.”  Derek raked a hand through his hair, enjoying how some of the tendrils snagged painfully.  “I feel like such an ass.  Here I am in agony, and she's off with some other man. 
Again
.”

“
You think it was the same dude?”

“
Does it matter?” Derek snapped, fixing his friend with a steely glare.

“
I guess not,” Ridger shrugged.  “So now what?”

Derek frowned.  “I don't know.  I think I'm going to take a walk.”

“
Want us to come with?”  Ridger nodded to Sandra, who was scowling at her pool opponent as he sank ball after ball.

“
No, thanks.”  Derek slid from his stool. 

Ridger extended his hand and Derek accepted it, the two of them shaking hands.  “I'm really sorry, man.”

“
Yeah,” said Derek, voice clipped, angry, “me, too.”

* * *

Padme turned the key in the lock and swung her apartment door open.  The scent of jasmine and spiced incense met Ruth as she followed her friend inside, tossing her coat and bag on the tumble of brightly colored pillows that served as a couch. 

She sighed happily, sinking down onto the pillows herself.  “When are you going to come help me decorate my apartment, Padme?”

Her friend kicked off her towering and vividly blue heels and padded into the tiny kitchen, barely big enough to hold a small refrigerator, a petite stove, and a tiny table that doubled as a counter.  “When you tell me it's time.  Just say the word.”

“
I'm going to forget as soon as I leave,” sighed Ruth.

“
Yeah, especially considering a certain handsome distraction.”  Padme emerged from the kitchen, waving a scrap of paper playfully, throwing herself down on the pillows next to Ruth. 

“
Is that his number?”

“
Uh huh,” nodded Padme.

Ruth reached out and snatched the paper scrap, examining Derek's stolid scrawl.  Her stomach contracted in fear.  “Am I really about to do this?” she murmured, more to herself than to her friend.

“
Only if you want to.”  Padme cocked her head in questioning.  “Do you want to?”

Ruth bit her lip for a long moment, then burst out, “Yes!”

Thundering a drum-like staccato on the floor with her bare feet, Padme exclaimed, “Then what are you waiting for?  Call him!  Don't keep the poor guy waiting any more than he has to.”

“
Can I borrow your phone?”

Padme gestured to the kitchen table, where she'd slung her hand bag.  “Help yourself.  I'll be in the bedroom, to give you a bit of privacy.”

With that, her friend literally bounded away into her closet-sized bedroom, clearly buoyed by excitement, and shut the door behind her.

Ruth extricated herself from the pillows and retrieved the phone.  She dialed Derek's number, but then hesitated, hands suddenly cramping with nerves.  She tugged at her hair, heart tripping over itself. 

“
This is insane,” she told herself.  “Certifiably.”

But then the memory of the smooth-rough of Derek's hands encasing hers blossomed before her mind's eye.  She remembered his musky scent, and how her skin somehow didn't feel like it fit wrong anymore now that he was in her life.

Ruth hit
send
.

Listening to the ringing coming through, she began to pace the perimeter of Padme's living room, which was as diminutive as the rest of the place.  Ruth had made two round of the room when she heard the phone click and Derek's voice murmur in answer.

“
Derek!” she blurted, wincing, hoping she wasn't coming on too strong.  But then she shook her head.  She was calling a man she'd known less than a week to officially agree to their engagement.  “Too strong” no longer existed.