Page 88 of Love On and Off Set

I swayed.

He grinned. “Get started early?”

“Whaa?”

“Drinking.” That grin didn’t diminish. “Everyone does things in their own time, but you should be more careful. Lots of tourist traffic around here, and they’re clueless.”

I blinked. I tried to make him focus.

He wouldn’t, though, because my eyes swam. “You’re…” I couldn’t finish the sentence.

His brow furrowed. “Can I help you get home? Do you live around here? If not, can I call you a cab?”

The light turned green.

I bolted. Nearly ran through the intersection in my need to get out of there. Fortunately missed the cyclist running the red and plowing into my crosswalk. Must escape. Because I’m losing my mind. The guy even sounded like—

Nope. Couldn’t do it. Couldn’t let my mind go there. To that horrible place. To that horrible day. To all the regrets threatening to bring me to my knees.

Two blocks down, as I neared Jervis Street, I slowed. I’d only knocked into three other people—who’d all apologized. So freaking Canadian. I drew in deep lungful of air as I struggled to get my equilibrium back. That proved impossible.

Because I’d just met a dead man.

Or rather, a man who had died.

Three months ago.

Right before my eyes.

I’d held him…as he died.

Yet he’d been right there, just now. Walking a freaking-cute dog. On Robson Street. In the middle of downtown Vancouver. On New Year’s Eve.

And I hadn’t even had a drink yet.

Because, to be honest, I felt off-kilter. Like I had indulged. In my college days, I’d done that. Probably why I’d barely graduated. I’d sobered up. Well, had stopped binge drinking. Then, three months ago…

He’s dead. You saw him die.

And yet I’d seen him around the neighborhood. Just last week. But it had been a trick of the light, right?

You didn’t have the guts to go to the funeral. You didn’t actually see the body. Maybe he didn’t die.

Patently ridiculous. I’d been there when the paramedics had declared him dead. Alrick had held me. Had comforted me. Had helped me home after the police had secured the scene and we’d all been escorted away. Alrick had asked Maurice, the dentist, to get my coat. Then the hygienist had literally stuffed me in a cab for the ten-block drive home. He’d hustled me up to my condo, forced me to drink tea I hadn’t even known I’d had, and had sat with me for hours while I’d been…numb.

I’d just witnessed someone hit by a drunk driver as he legally crossed the street. Someone I knew. Someone to whom I’d owed an apology and a conversation.

And one wasted asshole had robbed me of that opportunity.

I strode down Cardero Street and then down Barclay to my building. I let myself in and headed up in the elevator. To the fourth floor. I could’ve walked, but my legs still burned from the run. I wasn’t in the greatest of shape. I looked good, but running any long distance tested muscles I rarely used.

Or so I told myself.

I entered my studio apartment with a sense of dread.

Should’ve gone straight to the bar.

Except bar food was expensive. Coming home to heat up some leftover stir fry and naan bread made more sense than enjoying one of Jack’s amazing burgers. Of course, if I stayed late, I’d probably break down and enjoy one anyway.