Page 61 of Before Eve
“I don’t care if you talked to him.” I go back to coiling and ignore the pain wrenching around within me.
“I call bullshit.”
I shoot her a look, wanting more than anything to know what he said.
Anne plants her hands on her hips. “Did that bastard try something?”
“No!” Oh my God, I don’t want anybody to think that.
“Do you want to know what he said when I asked him what was going on?”
I pick up another cable, pretending an indifference I do not feel.
“He said you guys had a little disagreement about something personal, and that was it.”
“That’s…that’s right. I told West I need some time. Now you can be a good friend and accept that, or not. Either way, it’s what I’ve decided. This is about me, not him.” Just admitting that makes me feel weary.
Anne gives me a very long look. “All right. I’m always on your side. But know that West is hurt. I can tell. Whatever happenedisabout him, too.” She points a finger at me. “I swear to God, if you disappear on me, I will hunt your ass down and kick it across whatever state I find you in. Got it? And I mean that with every ounce of love in my cynical heart.”
I chuckle, despite the whole situation. Anne knows me too well.
“Got it?” she repeats.
“Yes, got it.”
Whatever happened is about him, too.Anne’s words are all Ithink about for the next hour as I work with Ford soldering connectors.
“All good?” he asks, and I nod. “All right, I’ll be at the soundboard if you need me.” With that, he heads off.
I triple-check my work, not wanting another frayed wire, before I put one connector down and start on another.
“You slacking around this place?”
I jump and almost burn myself with the soldering iron.
West cringes. “Sorry.”
“Th-that’s okay.” I consider making an excuse and getting out of here, but that’s idiotic of me. This conversation’s inevitable.
“How are you?” His voice works its way through me, warming me, waking me.
I start to get up, and he immediately moves, kneeling in front of me. “I missed you on our big bus.”
I go back to soldering, noting my hands are now shaking.
He reaches out to hold one of the wires, and I concentrate all my energy on not burning him. The scent of melted copper wafts around us.
“Can we talk now?” He picks up a new wire and hands it to me.
I take a breath. “I think you and I should cool things. Okay?”
“I…see.”
We stay that way—him kneeling in front of me, holding a wire while I solder it to a new connector.
Awkwardness floats in the air between us, and I just don’t know what to do. As usual, the wrong thing comes out. “I can do this by myself.”
He lets go of the wire and drops his head in frustration, disappointment, and probably a million other things. “Why are you shutting me out?”
