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“Not when you have your own pair.” She pressed her back into the seat as he stepped on the gas. Evidently the note—even with its lack of usable info—had been enough for him to get his ass in gear. “I’ve never been to his old house. I’m not sure why. We almost went to pick up Ricki a couple of times, but there was always—” She broke off at Simon’s incredulous stare. “What?”
“You honestly don’t get why he didn’t take you to that dump?”
“Don’t call it that. I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”
“Oh, you’re sure. And you know that how? From sitting in your white-walled palace and imagining how the other half lives? We didn’t imagine. We grew up in a shitpile, and if you’re surprised why he wouldn’t take you right back into the steaming heart of it, then maybe you don’t know as much about him as you think.”
Fury and fear and indignation warred a nasty battle inside her, and the loser was her composure. “How dare you,” she breathed, gripping her purse so she didn’t start beating him with it. She’d start by messing up his model-perfect hair. “You’ve been off in Paris and Milan and Prague while I’ve been here with him.”
“Playing house.” He nodded. “I get it. But what happens to him when you stop playing?”
“I’m not playing, any more than Margo is. Are you really so narrow-minded that you believe we can’t see beyond your pasts?”
“No. But I believehemight think that. When you come from Carson, you operate with your back against the wall. You don’t hold your hand out because you’ll as likely get stabbed as helped.” He inclined his chin at her purse. “Call him again.”
“He’s not going to answer me.” God, she hated knowing that, but the certainty was as plain to her as the traffic that hemmed them in on all sides. Slowing them down to a damn crawl.
“Yes, he will. Tell him I’m coming too.”
Immediately, she saw the validity of his plan. “Asshole,” she muttered. For once, the comment was directed at Simon, not her significant other.
Simon’s smile was pure grim satisfaction. “He’s my best friend. I know what buttons to push.”
There was so much she wanted to say to that.Then why are you doing this? Why have you closed him out and shut him down? Why did you wreck everything you sacrificed so much to build?
But now wasn’t the time, and this wasn’t the place. And Nick was man enough to fight his own wars, as much as she wanted to charge in with her sword extended on his behalf.
She called Nick and predictably, the call went straight to voicemail.
“It’s me. I’m with Simon. We’re on our way to you. To your father’s house. We’ll be there soon.” She lowered her voice, casting Simon a sidelong glance. As comfortable as she’d grown when it came to telling Nick how she felt, she wasn’t used to doing it in front of an audience. “I love you.”
As soon as she clicked off, Simon pounced. “That far already, huh?”
“What do you mean already?” Her cheeks were on fire. “We’ve been dating since winter.”
“Fucking isn’t dating, and dating doesn’t mean love and romance.”
The vibration of her phone in her hand cut off her terse reply. Before she could snatch it up, Simon reached across and grabbed her cell from her lap. “Hello Nicky,” he said, continuing to navigate smoothly through traffic.
She could hear Nick railing on the other side of the phone. The words were mostly intelligible, but the anger wasn’t. He didn’t want Simon anywhere near him.
Probably didn’t wanthereither.
“You through?” Simon asked a moment later, his voice mild. The ranting began again on the other end of the line and Simon sighed, waiting him out.
She had to hand it to the dick—he definitely could teach a master class on how to effectively handle Nick Crandall.
“We’re on our way. The car’s pointed to Carson, dude. So you can cry like a little pussy or you can man up and let your girl be by your side. I don’t fully get how you snagged someone like her, but hey, I got one too. And we thought going to number one was the luckiest we’d ever get.” He waited a second then shook his head. “Any calmer yet? No? Okay then. You keep right on screaming. We’ll see you soon.”
He clicked off and tossed the phone in Lila’s lap. “He’s overjoyed at our impending arrival. Think we might get a ticker tape parade. Whatever the fuck that is.”
She didn’t smile but the band around her chest loosened, just a fraction. At least until Simon pulled up in front of a small tract house in a row of other equally ramshackle buildings. The one he parked closest to had what looked like a white picket fence out front guarding a tiny patch of lawn. The fence was barely that, missing at least half of the spokes. In between weeds ran rampant, choking the small amount of grass. In the darkness, she couldn’t see much but the overgrowth that crowded the narrow steps, leading to a porch that contained an overstuffed love seat and what appeared to be a broken down firepit. Lights burned inside in every room, pushing against small windows that were like the eyes of the shrunken building in the dark.
“Mine was two houses up.” Simon’s voice was flat, without the slightest bit of emotion. “See that empty lot? Not that you can really tell, because the houses are so close together.”
She squinted through the windshield into the darkness. “It was torn down?”
“I bought it and had it torn down.” He wrapped his fingers around the wheel. “If I could’ve burned it to ash myself, I would have.” He waited a beat. “Nicky should do the same. He’d be better off.”
