Coming Home

  She pulled her brow together, waiting for him to go on, but he simply sat there, running his fingers through the ends of her hair.

  Leah brought her hand back to the side of his face, and he lifted his gaze. “I’m gonna stay tonight. I’ll be in the next room if you need me. There’s a pail on the side of the bed,” she said, leaning over and dragging it closer. “And here,” she added, uncapping the bottle of water and holding it out for him.

  He looked down at the bottle and then back up at her, his expression softening.

  “It might help a little. For tomorrow,” she said with a shrug.

  Danny stared at her for a second before reaching for the bottle, taking three long gulps before wiping the back of his hand across his mouth.

  “Okay, you need to lie down now,” she said, taking the bottle from his hand, and just as she was about to stand from the bed, he brought both of his hands to the sides of her face, his fingers sliding behind her ears as his thumbs caressed her cheeks.

  Leah froze, lifting her eyes to his, and for the first time that night, they seemed completely at peace.

  “My sweet girl,” he whispered, and then his lips were on hers.

  Compared to the explosiveness of their last kiss, this was a slow burn; Danny kissed her reverently, the gentle brushing of his lips igniting every nerve ending in her body before he pulled away slightly, turning his head faintly from side to side as he ghosted his lips over hers.

  And then he lay back onto the mattress, his hands slipping from her face as he threw his forearm over his eyes.

  Leah brought both hands to the bed as she closed her eyes, exhaling a long, quivering breath.

  Holy. Shit.

  She had no idea how long she sat there trying to pull herself back together, but eventually she stood, grabbing the comforter at the foot of the bed and pulling it up over him.

  He didn’t move, and Leah exhaled in relief; he was finally asleep.

  She walked around to the other side of the bed and pulled the trash can a bit closer to him as she placed his bottle of water on the bedside table.

  “Good night, Danny,” she whispered before she made her way out to the living room.

  She stood in the middle of the room, contemplating her options. Driving home at nearly four in the morning wasn’t really something she was looking forward to. Plus, she had told him she would stay the night.

  Although chances were, he wasn’t going to remember that.

  Leah’s eyes moved from the front door to the couch, where a large afghan was draped over the back of the cushions.

  “Oh, screw it,” she mumbled, walking to his front door and locking it before she picked up his keys from the floor and placed them on the little table in the entryway. She went back to the living room and kicked off her shoes as she grabbed one of the throw pillows and propped it against the arm of the couch.

  It was more comfortable than she thought it would be, and she reached up and grabbed the afghan, flipping onto her side as she curled herself into it.

  Her body was completely exhausted, but her mind was on overdrive. She wanted so badly to make sense of everything that had just happened. She wanted to know what had caused him to drink so heavily. She wanted to know why he was trying so hard to stay away from her if he was attracted to her. She wanted to analyze his words, his actions, until she could rid herself of the confusion and apprehension coursing through her body.

  She wanted to think about all of that, but the only thing her mind would focus on was that kiss, and the look in his eyes as he called her his sweet girl.

  And so eventually she stopped trying to think of anything else and surrendered, replaying that moment over and over, letting it lull her to sleep.

  Leah opened her eyes to the unnerving, disoriented feeling of waking up in a strange place. As soon as she remembered where she was and why, she bolted upright on the couch, swiping the hair from her eyes as she looked around.

  The clock on the cable box said eleven forty-six.

  “Jesus,” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes before she stood from the couch and threw the afghan over the back of it again. After placing the throw pillow back where it belonged, she sat on the arm of the couch, chewing on her bottom lip as details of the night came flooding back to her.

  Danny, completely wasted and clearly upset in her car. Danny’s lips in her hair. I lied to you. About so many things. His hands clasping hers as he told her he couldn’t be with her. That it wouldn’t be fair to either of them. My sweet girl. That soft, chaste kiss that once again left her reeling.

  Leah ran her hands down her face as she exhaled, and then she stood from the couch and padded over to the doorway of his bedroom. She leaned against the doorframe, folding her arms over her chest as she looked at him.

  He was lying on his stomach with his head turned away from her, his arms up at his sides and his hands shoved under the pillow. Leah noticed that the bottle of water on the nightstand was empty, and she tiptoed over to the pail, cringing as she peeked inside.

  All clear.

  Her shoulders dropped in relief, and she watched the rise and fall of his back for another minute before she left his bedroom.

  Leah went to the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face, using some toothpaste on her finger to brush her teeth as best she could.

  When she was through, she walked back out to the living room and stood in the center of it.

  She didn’t know what she should do.

  She didn’t want to just leave without talking to him about everything, but she knew he needed sleep right now. She couldn’t hang around his apartment all day waiting for him to wake up, and even if she could, trying to have a serious conversation with someone who was hung over was just a bad idea, plain and simple.

  But she did need to talk to him. She needed to make sense of everything once and for all, because as much as he’d told her last night, so much was still left unsaid. If anything, Leah felt more confused than she was before he confessed his feelings to her.

  Go home. Call him tomorrow, after he’s had some time to recover.

  With a plan in place, Leah felt a little better as she stepped into her shoes and scanned the apartment once more. She knew he would be hurting when he woke up, whenever that was, so she tried to anticipate anything he might need. She went to the fridge and got another bottle of water, quietly placing it on his nightstand as she grabbed the empty one.

  As Leah tossed the bottle in the trash, her eye landed on his coffee maker, and she decided she would set up a pot of coffee for him before she left.

  She opened a few cabinets, finding the coffee on the third try, and just as she brought it to the counter and popped off the lid, she gasped.

  Realization washed over her, bringing a rush of nausea with it as the puzzle pieces clicked into place.

  How could she not have seen it earlier?

  “I had no right to ask you out.”

  “I can’t see you. It’s not fair to you.”

  “I lied to you.”

  And then, something he had said to her a while back:

  “I don’t have a girlfriend, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

  Leah stood there unmoving, the lid of the coffee still in her hand.

  It was so obvious.

  How close had she come to being the other woman? There was some girl out there who was with Danny, who maybe even loved him, completely oblivious to their phone calls, their texting, their kisses.

  Oh my God, I kissed him. I kissed another girl’s boyfriend.

  Her heart started racing, and she felt as if she might be sick. This was all hitting far too close to home for her, and she knew she needed to get out of there.

  Immediately.

  With trembling hands Leah snapped the lid back on the coffee and turned, gasping loudly as the can slipped from her fingers and crashed at her feet. The top popped off, spraying coffee grounds across the floor.

  Danny stood in the doorway, his arms stretched
above his head as he gripped the frame. The way his arms were lifted caused his T-shirt to ride up, revealing the faint trail of hair that disappeared beneath the waistband of the flannel pajama bottoms he had put on. His hair was a rumpled mess, and his eyes were squinted against the light.

  He looked at her, the corner of his mouth lifting in a smile as he brought one of his hands down and touched his finger to his nose.

  “Not it for cleaning that up,” he said, his voice husky with sleep.

  “Do you have a girlfriend?”

  Confusion instantly marred the playful look on his face, and he took his finger off his nose and slid his hand up into his hair. She didn’t plan on blurting it out that way, but she couldn’t stand this any longer.

  “No,” he said. “I already told you I didn’t.”

  “You also told me you lied to me.”

  Danny’s eyes fell closed as he shook his head gently, and then he dropped his head back, covering his face with both hands. “Fuck,” he said, his voice muffled behind them. He slid them down his face before he met her eyes again. “What did I tell you last night?”

  “Do. You. Have. A. Girlfriend?” she asked, her voice livid. “Yes or no?”

  “No. I swear to you, Leah. No, I don’t.”

  She stared at him and he stared right back, never breaking eye contact. He seemed completely sincere, which ironically only made things worse, because now she was more confused than ever.

  “What did you lie to me about, then?” she asked.

  “Nothing.”

  She laughed bitterly, shaking her head. “I can’t do this. I can’t play these games.” She walked toward him and twisted her body, squeezing between him and the doorframe before she stormed into the living room and grabbed her purse. She turned and came to an abrupt halt, nearly walking right into his chest. Danny reached out and steadied her, gently grasping the tops of her arms.

  “Leah, please,” he said, and she shook her head, refusing to make eye contact.

  “I can’t take lying, Danny. It’s the one thing I can’t take.” She went to step around him, and his grip on her arms tightened.

  “Please. Can you just let me explain?”

  Leah closed her eyes, exhaling softly. Part of her just wanted to distance herself from the whole situation as soon as possible, but the other part of her desperately wanted to hear what he had to say. If she left now, she knew a piece of her would always wonder if she’d made the right decision, and in a way, she was almost more afraid of that than of being vulnerable with him.

  She opened her eyes, keeping them trained on the floor, but she nodded slightly, and Danny exhaled as she felt his grip on her arms loosen.

  She turned her back on him, walking over to the couch and taking a seat, and he sat on the coffee table in front of her, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. He dropped his head and took a deep breath before he lifted his eyes back to hers.

  “First of all, thank you for taking care of me last night. I’m sorry you had to deal with me like that.”

  “Don’t apologize for that. I didn’t mind taking care of you. That’s not why I’m upset.”

  He nodded gently as he wet his lips. “I just…I want to make this better, but I don’t even know what I said to you last night.”

  She sat up a bit straighter, running both hands through her hair. This was it. She was going to put it all on the line, and hope he would do the same in return.

  “Look,” she said. “I don’t want to play games with you. You’re always so back and forth, and I don’t like that I never know what to expect from you.”

  He pulled his brow together before dropping his eyes to the floor, and Leah chewed on the corner of her lip, summoning the courage to say the rest.

  “I mean, can we just be real with each other? I like you. I really do. And if you don’t or you can’t feel the same way, for whatever reason, then just tell me.”

  He lifted his eyes back to hers, a defeated expression on his face. “I do like you, Leah. A lot. That’s the problem.”

  “Why is that a problem?”

  Danny looked down again, shaking his head slightly. She waited for him to speak for nearly a minute before she broke the silence, trying her luck with a different question.

  “What did you lie to me about?”

  He sat up, gripping the edge of the coffee table. “I never lied to you. Everything I’ve told you about myself is true. It’s just…there are things I haven’t told you.”

  “Lies of omission, then.”

  Danny looked up to the ceiling, inhaling deeply. “It’s not lying. It’s just…not sharing everything.” His eyes met hers as he said, “You’ve done it too.”

  “What are you talking about? What haven’t I told you?”

  Danny shrugged. “Lots of things, I’m sure. What happened to your mom, for instance.”

  Leah pursed her lips as his point hit home. There were things he didn’t know about her either. Things she chose not to share. How could she condemn him for something she herself had done?

  “Okay,” she said, kicking her shoes off before sitting cross-legged on the couch. Leah pulled the throw pillow onto her lap as she said, “She died in a car accident. Some guy was driving drunk and came over the divider. Hit her head on.”

  Danny closed his eyes and shook his head slightly. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “Recently?”

  “About fifteen years ago.”

  The room fell silent, and Leah kept her eyes on the throw pillow as she picked at a fraying thread. After a few seconds, she saw him lean forward, and she looked up to see him resting his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped in front of his mouth.

  “Does it get easier?” he asked.

  The second the words left his mouth, something passed between them, and she smiled sadly. “In some ways yes, and in others, not even remotely.”

  He nodded, his eyes dropping to watch her fingers play with the loose thread on the pillow.

  “Who did you lose?”

  He swallowed hard, and it was a moment before he said, “My best friend.”

  “Bryan?” she asked, and his eyes flashed to hers as he straightened abruptly.

  “How did you know that?”

  She shrugged. “It was just a guess. The round of shots at the bar. Tommy said they were for Bryan, and you seemed to get upset.”

  Danny took a breath, his shoulders relaxing before he nodded. “Yeah. Bryan.”

  The room fell silent again, and Danny scooted forward, finding a frayed string on the other side of the pillow and mimicking Leah’s actions.

  “How long ago?” she asked, pretty sure she already knew the answer.

  “Yesterday was a year.”

  Leah nodded. They both knew he didn’t need to say anything else, and it was a moment before he spoke the words that were like a slap to her face. “He was Catherine’s grandson.”

  Her head snapped up, and unexpectedly, her eyes filled with tears. She had no idea why that affected her the way it did, but the idea of that woman burying her grandson absolutely crushed her. An image of Catherine flashed in her mind: the oversized jacket, the big bulky gloves, the man’s ring hanging from a chain on her neck.

  Was it possible those things were Bryan’s?

  She closed her eyes, forcing a tear to spill over, and before she could react, she felt the pad of his thumb brush under her eye, sweeping it away.

  Leah opened her eyes and looked at him; he had the most tender expression on his face, and she suddenly realized how backward it was, that he was comforting her over the death of his friend. She reached up and took his hand, sandwiching it between both of hers as she brought them to rest on the pillow in her lap.

  “What happened to him?” she asked, running her thumbs over the back of his hand.

  Danny wet his lips and looked down. “Head injury.”

  That was incredibly vague, but Leah knew enough not to push the issue. Instead, she kept running her thumbs over the ro
ugh, damaged skin of his knuckles.

  “That’s why I got so freaked over the flowers,” he said, and her thumbs stopped abruptly as she looked up.

  “Why did that make you so mad?”

  He shook his head with a sigh. “I wasn’t mad. It’s just…she keeps those things all over the house because when we were little, Bryan used to pick them from other people’s gardens and bring them home to her.” He laughed lightly. “She kept telling him that it was stealing and that it wasn’t a nice thing to do, but he could never understand how bringing his grandmother flowers was a bad thing. And she always put them in water. Always. Even after lecturing him about stealing, she’d put them up in a vase. Every fucking time.”

  He looked down, a smile on his face as he shook his head at the memory. “When you sent them, it just freaked me out. I didn’t know how you knew to get those for her. I didn’t even think about the possibility that you’d seen them in her house.” He lifted his eyes to her face. “I’m sorry about that, by the way. That was so shitty of me.”

  She shook her head. “It’s fine.”

  It was quiet as they sat there, his hand in both of hers.

  “Losing Bryan,” she finally said, and he looked up at her. “That’s not the reason you keep pulling away from me.”

  He pulled his hand from hers and Leah straightened, instantly lamenting the loss. Danny gripped the edge of the table and closed his eyes. “I don’t know how to explain this to you.”

  “Just say it. Whatever it is, just say it.”

  He sat completely still for a moment before he pushed off the table with a huff, walking around to the other side. He stood there, blinking up at the ceiling with his hands clasped on top of his head. “Fuck…I just…” He let his hands fall, shaking his head before he looked back at her.

  It hurt to watch the struggle on his face. She could see that he wanted to tell her, but fear, or embarrassment, or both, were stopping the words in his throat, and she had no idea how to make it easier for him.

  Tell him something. Something about you. Something you’re not proud of.

  “You want to hear something awful?” Leah said gently, and Danny stopped pacing as he looked at her. “About two years ago, my father had a heart attack.”