“Bene friends? Me, neither. My partners always wanted something more.”
“Same here.”
“So?”
“I guess we could try it.” What was I saying? I could just call her up whenever I wanted sex and see if she was in the mood? Then we part ways and have a beer over a ballgame the next time? Not if we kept having the same kind of sex we’d had at first. No possible way. I’d be in love in a week, if I weren’t already, which I wasn’t because I wasn’t like Vivian who equated sexual intimacy with romantic feelings.
“Don’t sound so enthused,” she joked, tapping two fingers against my shoulder.
“It’s just so clinical. Like ‘let’s finish dinner, we’ll have sex, and after we’ll clean out the garage.’ Not really something I’ve done.”
She laughed and the sound rumbled over me. I liked her laugh. Full but not loud or startling. “Okay then, friends. I much prefer friends to benes.”
Well, that bites. Guess I hadn’t rocked her world as much as she’d rocked mine. That’s a blow to the ego.
“Not to say that it wasn’t great,” she said when she must have seen a crestfallen look flit across my face. “I just meant I’d rather be friends with you than have sex complicate things, if that’s how you feel.”
“Yeah, sure.”
She gave me a penetrating look. For a moment, it looked like she didn’t believe me. Like she could see right through what I was saying and spot my fear that I could fall for her if we continued to sleep together.
“Fos! You gotta come ref,” Cole yelled from inside.
An amused huff left her mouth before she opened the sliders and called back, “You know how I’ll ref.”
“Dude, shut up. She’ll just turn off the Xbox,” Curtis said.
I joined her amusement. Sounded like a good way to solve an argument.
She turned back and stared at me for a bit. “So, friends then?”
“Friends.”
“Good.” She relaxed against the chair. “Just don’t give me another goodnight kiss.”
That stabbed at my heart. I expected to be hurt by her decision to forgo a sexual relationship, but I didn’t think she hated the kissing that much.
“Your kisses are dangerous.” She shot me a grin before getting up to go inside and check on the boys.
And my stabbed heart suddenly felt like ten thumping hearts had taken its place.
Falyn and I were watching a baseball game at her place. We’d pretty much exclusively hung out at her place since falling into bed together two weeks ago. It seemed dangerous to be alone in my apartment. Not just for me. I’d caught her giving me a longing look at the movies the other night. Maybe this friends thing wasn’t the right way to go.
The doorbell rang and Curtis went to answer it. Luis was coming over to watch the game with us. We’d all been hanging out together as yet another safeguard against my and Falyn’s apparent lack of control.
“We’re looking for Falyn Shaw,” a voice at the doorway said.
“Fos,” Curtis called as we turned to see who was there.
Two police officers stood at the door. I didn’t recognize either, which was odd because I knew quite a few officers in town.
Falyn stiffened beside me and jumped up as soon as one of the cops took a step inside. “That’s me. We can talk outside.”
Strange, but not more than the officer’s hard look. “May we come inside?”
“We can talk outside,” Falyn repeated when she reached them.
It was even stranger that Falyn closed the door behind her.
“5-0?” Cole asked as he walked in from the kitchen.
“You do something to get us busted?” Curtis teased.
“I’m not the one who got thrown in the drunk tank that time,” Cole reminded his brother.
“…invasion…on a jobsite…whereabouts,” came the disembodied voice of the police officer through the open sliders.
I strained to hear more, ashamed that I was being nosy, but cops didn’t stop by every day. What could they want with Falyn? God, I hoped nothing bad had happened to her. We hadn’t been talking as frequently as we used to. Something could have happened, and she hadn’t felt comfortable telling me about it.
“…not me…my rights…go down there,” Falyn’s replies were just as sporadic.
“…alibi?” That I heard loud and clear. Were they asking Falyn for an alibi or telling her that their suspect for whatever happened didn’t have an alibi?
The boys didn’t seem bothered by the fact that their housemate was talking to the police. Nor that it didn’t sound like a cordial conversation.
“Come back with a warrant,” Falyn said loud enough to be heard in full.
“You don’t want that, Falyn.”
The front door opened and she said again, “Warrant.”
“We can make this easy if you’ll—”
“Goodbye.” Falyn closed the door in their faces. Her forehead rested against the door before she seemed to realize she wasn’t alone. She whirled around to face us, her face red and eyes large. “Sorry.”
“What’s up?” Cole asked, looking concerned. Perhaps he wasn’t as blasé about this as I thought.
“Nothing. No, there might,” she paused, letting out a breath. Her fists clenched and unclenched. “No, nothing.”
“What do they need a warrant for?” I heard myself ask.
Her eyes shot to mine. It looked like she might cry. I rose from the couch in a knee-jerk reaction. I’d never seen her cry. She and I were alike that way. We’d rather chew glass than cry, and I sure as hell didn’t want to see her cry.
“Something went missing from a house we worked on.”
“Seriously?” Cole perched forward on his seat. “Which one?”
“Don’t know.”
“Why aren’t they talking to Natalie?” I asked. That seemed more logical than coming to one of the crewmembers. Maybe that had been their first stop.
She shrugged and looked away. Her sad eyes turned almost guilty before leaving mine. “Do you mind if we cut tonight short?”
I looked at the guys. She hadn’t been talking to them. They lived here. She’d been talking to me. She looked sad and embarrassed, and she wanted her friend to leave. I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to wipe those looks from her face, but I was a guest. I didn’t have much choice.
“Can I do anything?”
Her sad eyes went wide in amazement before she shook her head. “We’ll try it another night.”
As I walked toward her, she had a hard time keeping my gaze. The guys watched for a second then made some excuse to go into their rooms. They really weren’t as clueless as they seemed.
“Are you okay?” I laid my hand on her arm and rubbed softly.
“Yeah.” But her tone suggested otherwise.
“Did they accuse you?”
“I was at the house. They’re following all leads.”
“Do you want me to stay? We don’t have to watch baseball.”
She swallowed roughly. She was going to cry. Jeez, I couldn’t just leave her. They had accused her just because she’d worked in a house that had something stolen. Before I realized it, I leaned forward and pulled her in for a hug. She didn’t exactly fling herself into my arms, but she did finally settle in. It was still surprising to have her face pressed against mine, her hips and other body parts lined up with mine. I was just remembering all the benefits of hugging someone my size when she pulled away.
“Thanks, I’m good. I should let Natalie know.”
She was pushing me out the door without physically pushing me out the door. Her eyes hit mine, and I thought I could read so much more than gratitude in them. So much more than guilt or embarrassment. I thought I could read how much she wished we didn’t have to stop hugging.
“Falyn.”
“Some other time, if you want.”
That seemed to have two meanings. I wasn’t sure which one I wanted more.
Her door loomed before me. It had been a week since we’d ended the evening so abruptly. I’d left messages but hadn’t heard anything from her. Vivian was being evasive, too. I didn’t know what was going on, but it had to be bad for both of my close friends to avoid me.
When I knocked, no one answered. Her car was in the driveway. The boys’ van wasn’t. She could be out with them, but for some reason, I had the feeling she wasn’t. I knocked again. And again.
“What?” Falyn called from the side porch.
I walked around to the side and saw her sitting in a chair with a cigarette in her hand. She flicked dispassionate eyes at me, brought the cigarette to her lips, and took a long puff. It was such a different Falyn than I was used to seeing.
“Hi.” I leaned against one of the support posts, facing her.
She tipped her head in greeting and sucked in another long drag.
“You okay?”
“Sure. You?” Her tone was light as if we’d talked last night, but it wasn’t the same lightness she used when she accepted invitations to join my tours or made suggestions to hang out or agreed to help fix whatever happened to make my bathroom fan stop working. This seemed forced, polite, obliging.
“You haven’t been around.” Anywhere. Not here, not at softball games, not on my couch, not on bike rides.
“Work’s crazy.” That wasn’t a lie. Vivian had said as much when I checked in with her and tried to be offhand about how much I was freaking out that my buddy had stopped talking to me.
“Can I sit?”
Her long stare made me uncomfortable. It was an easy question, but she seemed to be considering it. For the first time, it felt like she didn’t want me here. “Sure,” she finally said.
I eased into the seat, hitching it around to face her. The evening air brushed over us. Warm for June, but my shorts and sleeveless polo were virtually all-weather for me. A forest of pine, spruce, and aspen trees surrounded Glory’s side and backyards. In the distance Aspen Mountain stood tall and proud. The perfect little spot.
“You don’t seem like everything’s okay,” I offered, flicking my gaze between her and the colorful plant at the edge of the yard. “I hate when people say that to me, but you really seem like something is terribly wrong.”
She let out a long sigh, stubbed out her cigarette, and immediately pulled another from a half empty pack. “Bad week. I’ve been thinking about moving back.”
“What? No.” I jerked forward in my seat. Dammit, how could so much change in one week? “Why?”
“Nat doesn’t deserve…” She shook her head. The strands of her hair didn’t move as they usually would. Either she hadn’t washed her hair this morning or she’d worn a hat at work. “I’m not sure this is a good fit for me.”
“Did something happen with one of the clients? I know she has you going out on electrical jobs, but I thought you liked that.” She did. I knew that. She preferred being an electrician to working regular construction. She hadn’t done either back in Denver. So why would she be thinking of moving back where she wouldn’t get to do the work she loved?
“I did, do, it’s just…” Another pull on her cigarette. The stench permeated every molecule on the porch and made my eyes blink away a slight sting. “Nothing. A feeling.”