“Ah, yes. It’s a bit of a mess right now, though.” I squeezed past him and started speed-cleaning, picking up the books and other assorted debris scattered across the floor. I should have asked him to give me five minutes before coming up. My mother would be horrified. Since returning from LA I’d let my world descend into chaos. It suited my frazzled state of mind. Didn’t mean David needed to see it. I needed to make a plan to clean up my act and actually stick to it this time.

“I used to be organized,” I said, flailing, my fallback position for everything lately.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“This won’t take a minute.”

“Ev,” he said, catching hold of my wrist in much the same manner that his gaze caught me. “I don’t care. I just need to talk to you.”

A sudden horrible thought entered my mind.

“Are you leaving?” I asked, today’s dirty work shirt clutched in my suddenly shaking hand.

His grip tightened around my wrist. “You want me to leave?”

“No. I mean, are you leaving Portland? Is that why you’re here, to say goodbye?”

“No.”

“Oh.” The pincer grip my ribs had gotten on my heart and lungs eased back a little. “Okay.”

“Where did that come from?” When I didn’t answer he tugged me gently toward him. “Hey.”

I took a reluctant step in his direction, dropping the dirty laundry. He pressed for more, sitting on my bed and pulling me down alongside him. I sort of stumbled my butt onto the double mattress as opposed to doing it with any grace. Story of my life. Object achieved, he gave up his grip on me. My hands clenched the edge of the bed.

“So, you got a weird look on your face and then you asked me if I was leaving,” he said, blue eyes concerned. “Care to explain?”

“You haven’t turned up at midnight before. I guess I wondered if there was more to it than just dropping by.”

“I drove by your apartment and I saw your light was on. Figured I’d send you a text, see what mood you were in after our talk today.” He rubbed at his bearded chin with the palm of his hand. “Plus, like I said, I keep thinking of stuff I need to tell you.”

“You drive by my apartment often?”

He gave me a wry smile. “Only a couple of times. It’s my way of saying goodnight to you.”

“How did you know which window was mine?”

“Ah, well, that time I talked to Lauren when I was first came to town? She had the light on in the other room. Figured this one must be yours.” He didn’t look at me, choosing instead to check out the photos of me and my friends on the walls. “You mad that I’ve been around?”

“No,” I answered honestly. “I think I might be running out of mad.”

“You are?”

“Yeah.”

He let out a slow breath and stared back at me, saying nothing. Dark bruises lingered beneath his eyes, though his swollen nose had gone back to normal size.

“I really am sorry Nate hit you.”

“If I was your brother, I’d have done the exact same f**king thing.” He braced his elbows on his knees, but kept his face turned toward me.

“Would you?”

“Without question.”

Males and their penchant for beating on things, it knew no end.

The silence dragged out. It wasn’t uncomfortable exactly. At least we weren’t fighting or rehashing our break-up one more time. Being broken and angry got old.

“Can we just hang out?” I asked.

“Absolutely. Lemme see this.” He picked up my iPhone and started flicking through the music files. “Where are the ear buds?”

I hopped up and retrieved them from among the crap on my desk. David plugged them in then, handed me an ear bud. I sat at his side, curious what he’d choose out of my music. When the rocking, jumpy beat of ‘Jackson’ by Johnny Cash and June Carter started I looked at him in amusement. He smirked and mouthed the lyrics. We had indeed gotten married in a fever.

“You making fun of me?” I asked.

Light danced in his eyes. “I’m making fun of us.”

“Fair enough.”

“What else have you got here?”

Cash and Carter finished and he continued his search for songs. I watched his face, waiting for a reaction to my musical tastes. All I got was a smothered yawn.

“They’re not that bad,” I protested.

“Sorry. Big day.”

“David, if you’re tired, we don’t have to—”

“No. I’m fine. But do you mind if I lie down?”

David on my bed. Well, he was already on my bed but … “Sure.”

He gave me a cagey look but started tugging off his sneakers. “You just being polite?”

“No, it’s fine. And, I mean, legally the bed is still half yours,” I joked, pulling out the ear bud before his movements did it for me. “So, what did you do today?”

“Been working on the new album and sorting out some stuff.” Hands behind his head, he stretched out across my bed. “You lying down too? We can’t share the music if you don’t.”

I crawled on and lay down next to him, wriggling around a bit, making myself comfortable. It was, after all, my bed. And he would be the only male who’d ever lain on it. The slight scent of his soap came to me, clean and warm and David. All too well, I remembered. For once, hurt didn’t seem to come attached to the memory. I poked around inside my head, double-checking. When I’d said I was out of mad, it had apparently been nothing more than the truth. We had our issues, but him cheating on me wasn’t one of them. I knew that now and it meant a lot.

“Here.” He handed me back the ear bud and started playing with my cell again.

“How’s Jimmy?” I rolled onto my side, needing to see him. The strong line of his nose and jaw was in profile, the curve of his lips. How many times had I kissed him? Not nearly enough to last me if it never happened again.

“He’s doing a lot better. Seems to have really gotten himself right. I think he’s going to be okay.”

“That’s great news.”

“At least he comes by his problems honestly,” he said, his tone turning bitter. “Our mother is a f**king disaster from what I hear. But then, she always was. She used to take us to the park because she needed to score. She’d turn up to school plays and parent–teacher nights high as a kite.”

I kept my mouth shut, letting him get it out. The best thing I could do for him was to be there and listen. The pain and anger in his voice was heartbreaking. My parents had their overbearing issues, certainly, but nothing like this. David’s childhood had been terrible. If I could have bitch-slapped his mother right then for putting that pain in his voice, I would have. Twice over.

“Dad ignored her using for years. He could. He was a long-haul truck driver, away most of the time. Jimmy and me were the ones that had to put up with her shit. The number of times we’d come home to find her babbling all sorts of stuff or passed out on the couch. There’d be no food in the house ’cause she’d spent the grocery money on pills. Then one day we came home from school and she and the TV were gone. That was it.” He stared up at nothing, his face drawn. “She didn’t even leave a note. Now she’s back and she’s been hurting Jimmy. It drives me nuts.”

“That must have been hard for you,” I said. “Hearing about her from Jimmy.”

One of his shoulders did a little lift. “He shouldn’t have had to deal with her on his own. Said he wanted to protect me. Seems my big brother isn’t a completely selfish prick.”

“Thank you for texting me.”

“S’okay. What do you feel like listening to?” The sudden change in topic told me he didn’t want to talk about his family anymore. He yawned again, his jaw cracking. “Sorry.”

“The Saint Johns.”

He nodded, flicking through to find the only song I had of theirs. The strum of the guitar started softly, filling my head. He put the cell on his chest and his eyelids drifted down. A man and a woman took turns singing about their head and their heart. Throughout it, his face remained calm, relaxed. I started to wonder if he’d fallen asleep. But when the song finished he turned to look at me.

“Nice. A bit sad,” he said.

“You don’t think they’ll be together in the end?”

He, too, rolled onto his side. There was no more than a hand’s width between us. With a curious look, he handed me the cell. “Play me another song you like.”

I scrolled through the screens, trying to decide what to play for him. “I forgot to tell you, someone was in saying they’d seen you today. Your anonymity might be about to run out.”

He sighed. “Bound to happen sooner or later. They’ll just have to get used to me being around.”

“You’re really not leaving?” I tried to keep my voice light but it didn’t work.

“No. I’m really not.” He looked at me and I just knew he saw everything. All of my fears and dreams and the hopes I did my best to keep hidden, even from myself. But I couldn’t hide from him if I tried. “Okay?”

“Okay,” I said.

“You asked me if you were my attempt at normal. I need you to understand, that’s not it at all. Being with you, the way I feel about you, it does ground me. But that’s because it makes me question f**king everything. It makes me want to make things better. Makes me want to be better. I can’t hide from shit or make excuses when it comes to you because that won’t work. Neither of us is happy when things are that way and I want you to be happy …” His forehead furrowed and his dark brows drew tight. “Do you understand?”

“I think so,” I whispered, feeling so much for him right then I didn’t know which way was up.

He yawned again, his jaw cracking. “Sorry. Fuck, I’m beat. You mind if I close my eyes for five minutes?”

“No.”

He did so. “Play me another song?”

“On it.”

I played him “Revelator” by Gillian Welch, the longest, most soothing song I could find. I’d guess he fell asleep about halfway through. His features relaxed and his breathing deepened. Carefully, I pulled out the earbuds and put the cell away. I switched on the bedside lamp and turned off the main one, shut the door so Lauren and Nate’s eventual return didn’t wake him. Then I lay back down and just stared at him. I don’t know for how long. The compulsion to stroke his face or trace his tattoos made my fingers itch, but I didn’t want to wake him. He obviously needed the sleep.

When I woke up in the morning he was gone. Disappointment was a bitter taste. I’d just had the best night’s sleep I’d had in weeks, devoid of the usual tense and angsty dreams I seemed to specialize in of late. When had he left? I rolled onto my back and something crinkled, complaining loudly. With a hand, I fished out a piece of paper. It had obviously been torn from one of my notepads. The message was brief but beautiful.

I’m still not leaving Portland.

CHAPTER TWENTY

I think I’d have preferred to find Genghis Khan staring back at me from across the café counter than Martha. I don’t know — a Mongol horde versus Martha, tough call. Both were horrible in their own unique ways.

The lunchtime crowd had eased to a few determined patrons, settling in for the afternoon with their lattes and friands. It had been a busy day and Ruby had been distracted, messing up orders. Not like her usual self at all. I’d sat her at a corner table with a pot of tea for a while. Then we’d gotten busy again. When I’d asked what was wrong she’d just waved me away. Eventually, I’d corner her.

And now here was Martha.

“We need to talk,” she said. Her dark hair was tied back and her make-up minimal. There was none of the LA flashiness to her now. If anything, she seemed somber, subdued. Still just a touch smarmy, but hey, this was Martha after all. And what the hell was she doing here?

“Ruby, is it okay if I take my break?” Jo was out back stocking shelves. She’d just come back from her break, making me due for mine. Ruby nodded, giving Martha a covert evil eye. No matter what was going on with her, Ruby was good people. She recognized a man-stealing sea monster when she saw one.

Martha headed back outside with her nose in the air and I followed. The usual flow of city traffic cruised by. Overhead, the sky was clear blue, a perfect summer’s day. I’d have felt more comfortable if nature had been about to dump a bucketload of rain on top of her perfect head, but it was not to be.

After a brief inspection of the surface, Martha perched on the edge of a bench. “Jimmy called me.”

I sat down a little way away from her.

“Apparently he has to apologize to people as part of his rehab process.” Perfectly manicured nails tapped at the wooden seat. “It wasn’t much of an apology, actually. He told me I needed to come to Portland and clean up the shit I’d caused between you and David.”

She stared determinedly ahead. “Things aren’t great between Ben and him. I love my brother. I don’t want him on the outs with Dave because of me.”

“What do you expect me to do here, Martha?”

“I don’t expect you to do anything for me. I just want you to listen.” She ducked her chin, shut her eyes for a second. “I always figured I could get him back whenever I wanted. After he’d had a few years to calm down, of course. He never got to screw around, we were each other’s first. So I just bided my time, let him sow all the wild oats. I was his one true love, right, no matter what I’d done? He was still out there playing those songs about me night after night, wearing our earring even after all those years …”