Page 103 of The Bet
“Yes.” But he could have been more understanding. Even when she’d been robbed, he’d behaved badly.
“It’s not the first time I’ve fucked up.”
“Thanks for the ride, and for dinner,” she said, suddenly getting ready to leave. He wondered if she’d realized she had shared too much and now regretted it.
“It was hardly dinner. I’m glad you told me, Izzy. And again, I’m sorry for being such a douchebag.” She had revealed so much about herself in the space of an evening that it had left him speechless. It had given him much to think about, so many scenarios and conversations in their short, rocky path to go back to and review.
He felt as if he had reached a place he could only have dreamed about a few months ago. He had always known there was more to her, that there were things he couldn’t begin to comprehend about Isabel Laronde, and now she had unveiled those very things in the short space of an evening.
He didn’t want to let her go; he wasn’t ready for her to go. He wanted to hold her, and hug her, and be there for her, because the way she looked right now, a little downcast, quieter, brought out the protector in him. He wanted a name, he wanted to know what had happened, he wanted to know who the fucker was, and where the fucker was, so that he could do something.
But, the truth was, he couldn’t say or do anything. He would have to be patient and wait, and be there. For her.
“Thanks forhardly dinner, then. I really needed to be with people tonight, with someone.”
“Glad I could help out in that respect.” He smiled. “I’ve ordered you another MacBook,” he told her. “I’ve ordered it for the business,” he said, correcting himself at warp-speed. “The insurance paid out.”
“I’ll try not to get robbed like that again.”
She had a hopeless, unsure expression on her face. The kind of look he’d seen in a hundred girls before. It felt as if they were on the precipice of something.
Only this was Laronde.
It would take a kiss, some touching, and stroking of her face, saying all the right words—careful words, it being her, but hecouldsay something. And he could get on his way to winning that prize.
Only it wasn’t right.
This wasn’t how he wanted it. Because maybe this was the start of Laronde getting to trust him.
Laronde.Trusting him.
He couldn’t fuck that up for anything.
“I’ll try not to behave like a douchebag again, if you do.”
He watched her go inside, and stayed there, parked outside the street for a few moments longer than he should have. And he sat and contemplated what she had just told him.
~ ~ ~
The living room light and the TV were off when she walked back into her apartment.
But then again, it was after 11, and she wasn’t surprised that Cara had gone to bed. They had ended up at the bar for almost four hours.
Who would have thought?
Shrugging off her shoes, and her thick coat, she walked into the kitchen to make herself a cup of herbal tea. She still needed to look through some of her notes before going to bed.
“Where were you?” Cara stood in the doorframe of the kitchen, wearing an oversized sweatshirt, half yawning. “You said you didn’t want to come to the party, and I get back and you’re not here.”
“Go back to bed. There’s nothing to tell.”
“I was worried.” Her friend walked in and leaned against one of the countertops. “I thought Shoemoney might have come back and abducted you.”
“Now you’re being silly.”
“Then where were you?”
“Xavier asked me to go out to this fancy bar—
