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She went to the hall table to pick up her keys. Nat followed. “We’re—” The rest of the sentence imploded when she looked at Nat’s face.
“Oh Foley. You’re totally gone on him, aren’t you?”
“No, it’s no, I’m just.” She covered her face with her hands. “Oh God, yes.”
“Don’t go tonight.”
She looked up. Nat leaned on the hallway wall. “He’s expecting me.”
“If this was meant to be, the man would have a phone. You’d be able to call him and tell him there’s a change of plans. He’s a homeless man living in a cave. Your mother!” Nat slapped her forehead with the heel of her hand. “This would put your mother in the hospital. Your dad would chase Drum off with the sharp end of a garden implement. You need to end this, whatever it is.”
“No.” She said it like Drum did. Hard, straight up, definitive. No room for compromise.
“Does Hugh know?”
“No.” Foley fisted her keys. “And you’re not going to tell him.”
Nat shook her head.
“Promise me you won’t tell Hugh.”
“How can you say that and not know you need to break this off?” Nat pushed away from the wall. “If this was reasonable, this friendship, I’d have known, your parents, Hugh. You wouldn’t have kept it a secret.”
“Like you’re not keeping your affair secret, huh? We’re not even swapping spit.”
Nat sighed. “Don’t go to him tonight.”
There were more words, more accusations chucked around with soapsuds while they washed up in the kitchen. There was no rule about who you could have for a friend. And right now, with Nat going all thought police on her, Drum was the best friend Foley had.
She was late getting to Marks Park. But he was waiting, rugged up against the cold in a fleece and a long battered brown leather coat that made him look like a rock star, with his hair falling around his collar, his sexy beard and his worn through ripped jeans. If he’d had boots instead of falling apart runners and a belt instead of an old dressing gown cord, he’d have passed for a fashion shoot subject. She barrelled into his arms, making him stagger back a step.
He caught her up. “Bad day?”
“Just missed you.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing, Gabriella, frustrating day.” They’d run together that morning so it was unsurprising he didn’t buy that.
A finger under her chin. “Tell me.”
Much as it irritated, Nat was right. If Foley was Drum’s friend she should be helping him. She pushed away. “Why don’t I know everything about you by now?”
“Is that the problem? What do you need to know?”
“What do you think?”
He pushed his hands into his coat pockets. “You know I can’t—”
“All I know is you won’t. Not your name, not your reasons. It’s a problem for me. I’ve been ignoring it, but I can’t anymore.”
He held his hand out. She knew he wanted them to walk. “Ask me what you need to know.”
She ignored his hand. “What’s your name?”
He watched her carefully, as if he thought she might sprout a second head. “You know my name, the only one worth anything to me.”
She was determined not to soften, not to let him have his way this time. “Not good enough. Why do you live in a cave?”
