Page 6 of Just Between Us

“Where’s Cassie?”

“Hmm, that doesn’t answer my question. I repeat, who the fuck is this?”

“Tell her it’s Alan.”

Tilting the phone away, I look at Cassie. “Know a guy named Alan?”

Before she can respond, although I bet she has plenty to say, I put the phone back to my mouth. “Sorry, pal. She’s never heard of you. Now I hate to be rude and cut this call short, but Cassandra is a little tied up right now, and I’m busy with a dick that works every damn time.”

Cassie’s eyes go wide and she mouths,Oh my god!

Alan is still sputtering when I end the call, and Cassie is gasping for breath through laughter.

“That guy sounds like a tool, and I try not to judge folks.”

“That’s one way to describe him.”

Before Cassie arrived, I was having one ofthosedays. The kind where I’d already smoked half a pack by noon and couldn’t tell you where the rest of the afternoon disappeared to. The hours just vanished, eaten up by all my swirling thoughts. It’s times like this, no matter what I do, I can’t get out of my head. Life feels off key, sometimes too sharp and other times too flat. I usually end up at the bar just to have somewhere to be that isn’t alone with my thoughts.

Then she walked in, and I thought,Good. A distraction.

But it didn’t take long for me to see she’s more than a simple distraction. We’ve been chatting for damn near an hour, and if I have my way, she’ll stay at least an hour more. Talking to women has always come easily to me. Hell, one of my mom’s favorite stories to tell is the time in first grade I tried to get my teacher’s number. But sitting here with Cassie is different. There’s a flicker of interest blazing up behind my ribcage, and it’s been a long time since I’ve felt that. There’s only been one other woman who interested me right off the bat like this.

The thought arrives without permission, along with that familiar ache beneath my sternum. My surroundings turn to static, and for a second, I’m not sitting in my bar. I’m somewhere else entirely, watching someone else laugh.

Giving my head a quick shake, I dislodge that train of thought, and instead focus on the woman in front of me.

Before showing me the website, she informed me she’s on amission to find herself again. My gut says there’s more to this story than a simple breakup. Whatever happened, it wasn’t good. She seems pretty worn down.

“All right. From that call alone, I already know I don’t like the guy. So, here’s the deal. Tell me the worst things about him. And I mean, really sell it to me. Lay it on thick.”

Cassie’s eyes drop to where the cherry stem from earlier lies, and she picks it up, twirling it between her fingers. She doesn’t speak right away, just keeps twirling the stem, and I get the sense she’s deciding how much of herself to hand over to someone she just met.

“He was charismatic. He had this way of winning over a room. Everyone we knew respected him. Clients, friends, strangers at parties. That’s how he won me over.” She winds the stem so tightly around her pinky the skin turns pink. “So, when he wasn’t nice to me behind closed doors…” A pause. “Over time I began to think maybe I was the problem. I’d replay conversations in my head, looking for where I went wrong. Was I too needy? Too sensitive?” Her voice has dropped so low I have to lean in to hear her over the sounds around us. “And he had so many opinions he treated as facts.” Cassie lets out a humorless laugh. “He had opinions about what I wore, what I thought, what I enjoyed. And I just rolled over and took it.” She lifts her chin, gaze meeting mine, lips down turned. “I all but handed him the red pen and let him edit me down until I was invisible. I’m pretty sure nobody wants to feel invisible.”

The annoyance I felt toward the guy is now a simmering anger. I’ve known this woman for an hour and I already know she’s too good for someone like that.

“But you want to know the worst part?”

Clearing my throat, I find my voice. “What’s that?”

“I’m a licensed therapist. A damn good one with a master’s degree and years of training. I should have known better.”

My brows furrow and I tilt my head. “I dunno about all that.I’ve yet to meet a perfect person. You’re a human who’s allowed to make human mistakes.”

Cassie shrugs again and lets her gaze fall while I study her. I’m no therapist, but I do know what shame is like. I know the feeling of being mired in regret. And I don’t think sitting here in the bar is what either of us needs right now.

“Tell you what. I’ll go clear your tab, and you follow me.” I flick my hand for her to scoot, but she pushes it away, making no move to let me out.

“I can’t just follow you. For all I know, you could be a serial killer.” A hand goes to twist one of several delicate hoops stacked up her earlobe.

I give her a flat look. “While I’d love to show you where I keep all the bodies, that’s not what we’re doing tonight.”

“I’m serious! You’re a total stranger to me.”

I lift a brow. “I assure you I am not a serial killer.”

“That right there. That’s exactly what a serial killer would say. Next thing I know I’m tied up in the trunk of a car.”