It made Mel’s chest ache to think about it. It actually hurt so much she had to lift a hand to rub at the spot, but it couldn’t be assuaged. “I’m not afraid of letting people in. I let everyone here in; Char, Al, the guys…I let you in, didn’t I?” She forced a smile that faded at Dimi’s next words.
“You let us in because we need you; each of us in our own way. Mother-hen-to-chick type of relationships. Face it, honey, you don’t know how to be the little chick. You don’t know how to lean on someone, or need them.”
“This conversation is about Sally,” Mel said, shaken. “About her illegal tendencies. About how she didn’t just screw us, she apparently screwed a whole line of people. How the hell did we end up talking about me and all my faults?”
“Because your faults are so cute.”
Mel snorted.
Dimi opened her mouth to say more but she was staring at something over Mel’s shoulder, lost in thought; eyes a little dreamy, mouth soft.
Mel craned her neck to see what-or who. Danny had come into the lobby, looking lean and lanky and tough.
Dimi stared at him, gone, just completely gone, including mouth sagging open and drool pooling.
Mel craned her neck to get a better view of Danny to see what she was missing. He had his blond hair pulled back from his face with a plastic tie wrap, his baseball cap on backward, knees ripped out of his coveralls, looking like…well, Danny.
And Dimi was now drooling, practically soaking him up as he headed toward the café. He smiled at Char, who handed him a soda, then leaned his head back and drank.
And from thirty-five feet away, Dimi sighed, audible only to Mel.
When Danny put the drink down, he glanced over. From across the long expanse of the lobby he caught Dimi’s gaze, then held it for a long beat before walking back outside, his long, rangy body moving with his usual laid-back ease.
Dimi let out a breath. “Yeah. Still mad at me.”
“What? Why’s he mad at you?”
“Forget it. He’s just a man. A jerky man.”
“A jerk?”
“He’s got a penis, doesn’t he?”
“Dimi. The two of you are close friends.”
“Were,” she said toughly, then sagged. “Oh, who the hell am I kidding? It’s me. I screwed up, bad. And now I feel funny around him, like I can’t breathe normally. I even sweat. It’s awful.”
Mel sat back, let out a low laugh. She recognized those symptoms! “You’re falling for him.”
“No. I’m just getting a bug or something.” She picked up her purse. “I’m out of here.”
“Dimi-”
“I’m going to be fine, Mel. We both are.”
“What about Sally?” Mel asked quietly.
“Oh, no doubt, that one hurts like a son-of-a-bitch, we both know it.”
“She was everything to you. And I’ve just dropped a bomb in your lap.” Mel wanted to hold on to her and keep her safe. And busy. Very busy. “I think we should go-”
“I told you, I’m fine.” Dimi kissed her cheek, then walked out as well, leaving Mel staring at the door, wanting to believe it.
Needing to believe it.
Chapter 24
Dimi got all the way out to her car before she let out a shaky breath. Okay, not quite as steady as she’d thought, but at least it wasn’t alcohol related. Nope, this was purely emotional stress. God, Sally.
Annoyed at herself for thinking about it, she fumbled through her purse, looking for her car keys, finding instead a pen, her favorite lip gloss, a tampon…
No keys.
“Damn it.” Finally, she dumped the entire contents out on the hood of her car. There was her library card, and that receipt she’d been looking for, but still no keys, though look at that, there was her missing book, with the gorgeous firefighter on the cover, and the wild sex between the pages.
She stared at the mess on her hood, the mess that didn’t include keys, and felt the tears building that she hadn’t allowed before. Why couldn’t she get herself organized? Why couldn’t she get it together?
Why had Sally done this to them?
Dimi had built her life on what Sally had done with hers. She’d emulated a woman she admired more than life itself because she’d never had anyone to admire before.
Sally hadn’t asked for the hero worship, she’d just lived her life fast and hard and without looking back, as if it could all end at any moment. It had been Dimi to glom on to that and live that way as well. Her own doing…but to find out that Sally hadn’t been worthy of Dimi’s admiration at all, that maybe Sally wasn’t even her real name…
God.
She felt as if her very foundation had been kicked out from beneath her. Did she still know who she was? Or who she wanted to be? Did she really?
Just a week ago she might have settled the matter by going to a bar and getting shit-faced, then going home with someone gorgeous who could take her mind off everything for a few hours.
But that thought exhausted her now. And left her sad. She wanted…something. Needed…something.
And yet she couldn’t put her finger on it. But it sure would be nice if she could put her finger on her keys!
Behind her, someone opened their door. She turned and froze.
Danny.
Perfect. He had his surfboard in the back of his truck, and he’d changed to go surfing, wearing a pair of faded yellow board shorts and battered old flip-flops. His T-shirt was the same color as his baby blue eyes, nearly hidden beneath the baseball cap he had on.
“Hi,” she said, a little breathlessly, painfully aware they hadn’t talked since that night he’d driven her home. She missed him, with an ache that nearly brought her to her knees, just from looking at him. But the loss of the friendship had been her own doing. She’d pushed to keep him at a certain distance for years, then breached that distance by asking for help as she’d needed.
Was it any wonder he’d never made a move on her?
God, the memory of that night at the restaurant made her cheeks burn.
He looked over at her. “You okay?”
It took her a moment to figure out how to answer that but before she could, he let out a low laugh and shook his head. “Never mind. You’re fantastic, right? Just like always.”
“Actually,” she said. “I’m not. Fantastic, that is.”
He went still, his gaze not so hidden now.
“And truthfully?” she whispered. “Haven’t been for a long time.”
He moved around his truck to come toe to toe with her. “Someone bugging you?”
“No, I don’t need rescuing or anything.” She stared down at his feet. They were clean and tanned, and big enough that the inane thought went racing through her mind.
You know what they say about the size of a man’s feet…
“I never minded helping you out when you needed it,” he said.
But he had minded. It had upset him when she’d gone bar hopping. And bed hopping…
As her friend, he’d worried. And she owed him for that.
He lifted her chin, his fingers on her jaw. His eyes were deep, and filled with things, things that made her swallow hard because she’d never really let herself see them before.
She was seeing them now.
“It’s okay not to be fine once in awhile,” he said. “Long as you face it.”
Face it. Something she’d never really tried. “I had some bad news today,” she said. “And it made me sad. That’s all. I’m not off to do something stupid or anything.”
“Of course you’re not.”
“So you don’t have to worry that I’ll call you needing-”
“Dimi-”
“Just go surfing, damn it.” She turned away and began to scoop her things back into her purse. She really hoped he’d leave before she had to admit she couldn’t find her stupid keys, that she once again needed rescuing. In fact, she’d eat her own purse before admitting she needed help. Again. “Better hurry,” she said. “Before the wind kicks up-”