Page 10 of Backslide
The forest-green suitcase is almost as tall as Nell. Which isn’t saying all that much. And as she begins to drag that heavy-ass thing alongside her, the world’s slowest and saddest attempt at storming away, I catch her flinching in pain.
Ah-ha!I knew that rotator cuff injury would still be a problem.
I let myself feel smug for a second. Then, I sigh inwardly. I obviously need to carry the stupid thing for her. But what’s the likelihood that she bares her fangs and bites me before I can get close enough to grab it?
This is the problem with this infuriating woman. She’s stubborn as hell. Would barely accept help even when she liked me… let alone now.
On the flight up, I was genuinely hoping we could see each other and keep it chill this week. Maybe laugh about the past—how it’s ancient history, anyway. Meet as benign acquaintances.
When I spotted her at baggage claim, I legit thought it was a good sign—a chance to ease the tension before we arrived at the property and were surrounded by our shared past.
But seeing her is more confusing than I imagined. She’s just as maddening as always. Her words sting just as much. And, worst of all, she’s just as hot. I can’t tell if I’m more attracted to or irked by her, but whatever I’m feeling, it’s not anything like benign.
The past doesn’t feel so past.
Her thick hair is longer than I’ve ever seen it and streaked with a million shades of light brown and blond. Back in the day, she used to wear it pin straight, and even then it drove me crazy. But now she’s letting the waves fly—and it’s next level. I’d been kind of hoping she’d let herself go over the years or even over-injected her face until she looked like someone else,everyoneelse, at least in LA—but, of course she didn’t. She’s Nell. She’s beautiful. Natural. Sprightly. And she’s annoyingly fit.
Even in sweatpants and high-tops, her style is on point. And though she looks a little tired, her sleepy eyes—that crazy gray color I’ve never seen on anyone else—call to me in a way I don’t want to feel. I’m not here to wipe that smudge of makeup from under her cat-like eyes with my thumb, though every inch of my body thinks I am. I’m not here to untangle her necklaces. That hasn’t been my job for years.
C’mon, man. You know better than that.
Grabbing my own reasonably sized suitcase, I follow behind her as she tries to sprint toward the automatic glass doors. I coach myself not to check out her ass. I should not. I will not. And yet, I do. And judging by what rockets through me, it’s a huge mistake.
But I only have a beat to tamp that shit down because she’s racing ahead of me. Injury or no, she will not be stopped. She is intent on escaping me and I’m surprised to feel a pang of hurt.
And that pisses me off.
“Hey, Nell.Eleanor.At least let me help with your stupid…”
“Jolly Green Giant,” she says without glancing back.
“The Jolly Green Giant is jolly. That thing has more Hulk vibes.” Or maybe that’s her.
We make it through the automatic doors and outside onto the curb, and she blinks against the light. A cloud cover has started to move in, that kind of overcast filter that feels brighter than straight sun. Clusters of other travelers are huddled near their baggage, awaiting pickups. Normal travelers. Who don’t loathe each other.
I slide my sunglasses on—I’ll take any barrier between us.
Why am I still standing here?
I tell myself I am acting on a sense of basic decency instilled by my mom and older sister. Nell is a woman alone, she’s lugging a giant fucking monster of a suitcase, and she is clearly hurt. It doesn’t matter if she’s a demon in disguise. Or that she thinks I’m a horrible person—and, around her, I start to wonder if she’s right.
Maybe it was a mistake to come to this thing alone.
An older man in a uniform with an official-looking airport employee badge passes by. “Excuse me,” Nell calls out sweetly—like she’s an entirely other human being. “Sorry to bother you, but do you know if car service pickup is here or…?”
He pauses and grins at her, mistaking her for a normal person—a pretty, polite woman who doesn’t stomp on people’s hearts and eat them raw. “Right across the street here, miss. You need help with that bag?”
“Thank you so much, sir. No, I’ve got it,” she smiles.
“Are you sure?”
“I can help her,” I say, stepping forward.
“No,” she snaps. “You can’t.”
“I could if you weren’t impossible!” I say, losing my temper. “That thing is clearly too big for you and your shoulder is obviously messed up.”
“You’re obviously messed up!” she snipes back, full of venom.
