Page 17 of All In
“Well, I’m tired and I want to go home, so can you make this quick?”
His light brown eyes widened in disbelief. “That’s all you have to say to me? After six months?”
“What more do you want me to say? I’m sorry?” I blew a lock of ratty hair out of my eyes. “Fine, I’m sorry. Happy?”
“Not remotely.”
“What do you want, Theo?”
“To talk,” he said. He scrubbed his hands through his short dark hair. “Jesus, Kacey, it’s been six months.”
“To talk.” I pretended to think it over, while my mind was a shocked blank. “Sorry, Teddy, but I got nothing to say.”
“Sorry isn’t good enough.”
We stared each other down, and somewhere behind the alcohol, I knew I wasn’t going to win this standoff.
“Fine,” I said, handing him my guitar. “Let’s talk.”
“Where?”
“Somewhere neutral.”
“Like?”
If he was shocked when I gave him my home address in the Seventh Ward neighborhood, he didn’t show it. He punched it into his phone’s GPS and Siri helpfully chirped directions at him.
“Now I’ll have to move,” I muttered.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
We pulled up to my street with its rows of shotgun houses. Theo parked his car in the carport behind the Toyota I’d bought used in Vegas. On my frantic drive to Louisiana, the universe sat on a pillow in a box on the passenger seat, seatbelted in. I never drove the thing anymore. My house was only ten blocks from the French Quarter.
Not to mention driving when one was blitzed 24/7 was highly irresponsible.
God knows I’m responsible, I sneered at myself.
My porch lights—the beautiful whiskey-bottle lamps Jonah had made for me—were burned out. Had that just happened, or had I not noticed until now? My cheeks burned as I struggled to get the damn key to find the lock. Inside, I strode toward the kitchen to make a nightcap, leaving Theo to shut the door and pick up my dropped purse.
I poured vodka over ice. “You want one? Or a beer?”
He shook his head. He stood with his arms crossed, his dark-eyed gaze unwavering. I sipped my drink, self-conscience of every movement. “You wanted to talk, right?”
“I didn’t fly all this way to listen to bullshit.”
My eyes flared wider. “Bullshit? I haven’t said a word.”
“Yeah, no kidding.”
“You’re the one stalking me.”
“People are worried about you, Kace,” he said, his voice softening slightly.
“Oh, it’s a guilt trip then. Do you get frequent flyer miles for those?”
Theo didn’t laugh and his eyes didn’t leave me. My cheeks burned. I slammed my drink on the tiled kitchen counter.
