the wall of glass. He looks over
his shoulder at me. “Interesting place to live.”
I laugh at the way he says interesting .
“Not exactly a comment I’ve not heard before. Some people think we’re crazy to
live up here. Linda definitely does. And other people think it’s perfect.”
He smiles and turns back to the glass. “I don’t
think you’re crazy and I don’t think it’s perfect either. I understand why you
live here. You can stare at everything you love, always, and never have to risk
being a part of it. So you, Chrissie.”
My heart freezes. A subtly put jibe at me and how
I screwed up our relationship. Direct hit. Trepidation over him being here now
wins over all other emotion.
“Actually, I picked this house for Neil. He loves
it on the mountain surrounded by forest. We both do.”
I retreat from him to the only chair in the
living room I can still get out of quickly. I sink down and wait for Alan to
follow. I watch him as he settles himself in his own uniquely graceful way on
my sofa.
His gaze moves around the room. It pauses at my
coffee table and locks on the magazines there. “Neil is certainly all the talk
these days.”
“Neil hates being on that cover. He thinks it
makes him commercial. Mainstream. He hates the publicity. And definitely that
cover.”
Alan arches a brow. “Mainstream is good.
Commercial is good. That’s where the money is. I’m glad for your sake that
things for Neil are going well.”
It sounds like he means it. But there is a slight
edge to his voice I can’t read.
It seems like I should say something about him .
“You’re looking good, Alan.”
He smiles. “I’m off the road for a year. It feels
good to just be someplace for a while.”
He sounds slightly impatient over something.
Restless being here with me, even if he looks relaxed and at ease. He stands
and my heart skips a beat as I wonder if he’s leaving so soon. Slowly, almost
leisurely, he starts roaming around the room again.
He pauses at the fireplace. He looks at me. “Jack
doing well?”
Neutral topic. Benign pleasantries. “You know
Jack. He’s always doing well.”
That earns me one of those smiles, the kind that
never fails to shoot straight to my heart. I’m feeling flustered and fretting
over why he’s here again. Maybe Alan is as unsure as I am the current state of
us. Maybe he’s waiting for me to clarify things.
“I meant what I said on the phone,” I tell him.
“About wanting us to be friends. I meant that, Alan.”
“Me, too.” His voice is nearly silent, breathy
and unthreatening. His gaze, however, is intense and the effect travels all
through me. “I should probably go.”
His words take me by surprise and disappointment
shoots through me in an impossible-to-ignore way. I don’t want him to go. I
don’t even know why he visited me.
He crosses the room as if to kiss me goodbye. I
stare up at him, blinking. “Can I ask you something before you go, Alan?”
He pauses and his expression changes, becoming
something more accessible. “You can ask me anything, Chrissie. Always.”
The voice inside my head says don’t do this but I’ve wondered and we didn’t talk about that on the phone and having him
here, now, and me this way makes it painfully present inside me.
“Why did you go to Jack’s party to see me?” I ask
in a rush before I lose my nerve. “What did you want to tell me in the pool
house, Alan?”
I take in a steadying breath of air and wait.
Alan smiles, unruffled by the questions, and lightly brushes my cheek with a
thumb. “It doesn’t matter, Chrissie. Not now. Not for either of us.”
What the heck does that mean? I stare up at him.
“It matters to me.”
He doesn’t say anything, but he sits back down on
the sofa. He lets out a ragged breath. “I went to Jack’s to tell you I love
you.”
I search his face, and in dismay, I realize he
just lied to me for the first time ever.I don’t know how I know it, but
I’m positive of it
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