Page 86 of The Diamond in the Rough

“There’s nothing to talk about,” I mumbled, pulling my arm away from her.

“Have you been on any dates?” Sam wanted to know.

“No!” I hadn’t. A casual dinner after work with no discussion of relationship status whatsoever did not count as a date. And neither did dreams that I’d invaded, which was the only context in which anything even remotely romantic had happened.

“But you like someone?” Sam asked, a sly smile on his lips.

I felt a muscle tick in my jaw. “It’s nothing,” I repeated, more forcefully.

Melissa touched Sam’s arm. “Did something happen?” she asked me.

“No, nothing. That’s the problem,” I snapped, then winced. “Sorry,” I mumbled. “I really don’t want to talk about it.”

And now I felt even worse.

I’d come here to put my guilt out of my head for a while, and the fact that Sam and Melissa were forcing me to think about it made me irritable. It was my own fault, and I knew that. If I hadn’t done what I’d done, there would be nothing for me to feel guilty about in the first place. And maybe Raj would still have been speaking to me.

I knew Melissa and Sam just wanted me to be happy—wanted me to feel like I was included, wanted me to feel like I should share my life with them.

But I wasn’t like them.

I was a monster. Or, at least, I was a horrible person. I did things that other people found unforgivable.

I wondered, not for the first time, if being awful wasgenetic. If the fact that my uncle and even my parents had somehow destined me to keep doing things like invading Raj’s dreams or getting snappish with my friends when they just wanted the best for me.

“Sorry,” I mumbled again. “I guess I’m just not very good company tonight.”

“Bah,” was Sam’s immediate response.

Melissa hugged me. “Sorry we were pushy,” she said, then kissed the side of my face. “Now. Let’s finish this puzzle.”

16

He was looking forwardto dinner—Mason’s cooking was always far better than anything he managed to put together. And Mason had been up this morning putting something in the fridge, which meant that he had plans for something that night.

Maybe Mason had news about the adoption. Or maybe Jackson had done particularly well on a test. Or something completely different.

No matter what it was, it was going to be tastier than this.

He poked at the noodles in their lackluster tomato sauce that he’d microwaved for lunch. He’d made it two… no, three days ago. It was passable. Better fresh than three days old, anyway.

I sighed,glaring down at the offending spoon.

I usually brought food that I could eat with my hands, but I hadn’t had any breakfast food in my apartment, so I’d grabbed some instant oatmeal cups at the grocery store so that I could have a stash in my desk. I’d hoped that the spoons in the office would have gotten little enough recent use that they’d be safe, but apparently not.

I contemplated the spoon, currently sitting on the counter.

At the moment, Ward and Mason were both out, presumably because of the lengthy and complicated process of adoption. I hoped it was going well—I didn’t know that I ever wanted kids myself, but I knew they loved kids. And as far as I could tell, they’d be good parents. They seemed to be good uncles to Jackson.

Beck was in her office, doing research on the site of her next job—a newly-renovated restaurant up in the Shenandoah that was having poltergeist problems. She was happy that it would likely only be a day trip or an overnight, unlike some of the places she had to stay for days to a week.

From what she’d said, hotels especially were difficult to do quickly. Sometimes she had to go through every room. But a restaurant generally only had a few spaces and could be dealt with much more quickly.

There were no clients on the docket for the day, so it was likely going to be quiet. Assuming nothing came up that was going to demand either Beck’s attention or mine.

I could finish my last two papers, which would almost wrap up my semester. I only had one class that had an exam, and that was the following week. I wasn’t particularly worried about it.

What I was worried about was the fact that it was the day that Violette was going to bring a picnic lunch, and we were going to walk down to the closest park, hopefully find a bench or picnic bench or maybe she’d bring a blanket. I had no idea.