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Stop running. Tell her the truth.But I could barely admit it to myself.
It’s too risky. Baker was different. Which made opening up even scarier.
“Yeah.” I shoved my trash into a paper bag. Admitting that didn’t make me feel one ounce better. I held out my hand for her empty wrapper. She looked as if she wanted to say something but didn’t immediately. I wasn't sure if I was relieved or disappointed.
“Are you okay?”
I jolted at the question she finally settled on. There was no demand of who Celia was to me or what happened. What mattered to Baker was how I felt. I leaned forward and kissed her lips softly, thankful again she was in my life.
“I’m not sure. But I’m working through it.” If swinging between throbbing anger and unbearable pain could be counted as such.
She nodded. “That’s all we can do.” She touched my cheek. “I’m not completely sure I want to hear all the details, but if you need to talk about it, I’m here.”
Knowing that made me feel better. “Thanks. I’m not sure I’m ready to relive it yet. But I’m glad to know you’ll be listening when I can.” I slid to my feet. “I hate to cut this short, but I gotta get back to the shop. Mind locking up?” I took the key off my keyring and pressed it into her palm.
“Hang on. I’ll leave with you.” She scrambled off the desk and collected her bag. “Oh. Your jacket.”
She held it out to me.
“Thanks.” I shrugged it on and grabbed our trash.
She slid her hand into mine and everything clicked into place.
I wanted more.
More of her body. More of her light. More of her soul.
Her heels clicked on the concrete as we moved toward the door.
I hesitated before I turned the doorknob. "It's a two-way street. If you need to talk, I mean.”
She went rigid for a moment, as if the idea was hard to handle. Then she relaxed and squeezed my hand. “I appreciate that.”
I held open the door and followed her through. Maybe we hadn’t gotten anything out in the open, but I was confident if I needed to talk, she’d be there.
As I locked up, her mouth grazed my ear. “Same place tomorrow?”
Chapter Thirty
Baker
I lingeredat the office as long as I could get away with.
I didn’t want to go home to an empty house, and Holt had already texted he was going to be late.
The silence was a comfortable one when I pushed into the apartment, but still too much for me to bear. I put on “I Feel Like I’m Drowning” by Two Feet and collapsed on the sofa.
My mind had been at war all afternoon between Holt and Kyle. One or the other had demanded my attention. A ghost and the man who was slowly but surely mending my broken pieces.
A soft rap on the door jolted me to my feet. The neighbors had a tendency to drop by whenever they felt like it, something I was still getting used to.
I checked the peephole before I opened the door.
“Mrs. Quinn.” I gave her a quick hug and stepped aside. “What brings you by?”
She held up a box of tea. “I miss seeing you every day.”
I welcomed her inside, and we caught up on the latest at Paths as I heated water and searched for cups.
