“Luce,” he began, but I was true to my word. Before Jude could get another word out, I did what I should have done three minutes ago.
I punched end.
“Lucy, I’m sorry,” Anton said.
“Get out,” I said, pointing toward the door. “Just get out. I’ve had enough for one day.”
Anton looked like he wanted to say more, but for once he kept quiet. After letting out a long sigh, he headed for the door and didn’t look back.
FIFTEEN
Jude’s calls started coming in thirty seconds later. I didn’t answer them. I wasn’t ready.
India had snoozed through the whole Face Time call from hell, and Holly, Thomas, and LJ had stayed hidden in the bedroom until the coast was clear. When it was, Thomas came back into the living room, wrapped me up in his arms, and didn’t let go until I’d almost fallen asleep.
He carried me to my bed and tucked me in before crawling back into the ginormous fort and falling asleep himself.
It was a little past midnight, and I was stuck in that place between sleep and awake, when I finally answered Jude’s call. It wasn’t an exaggeration to guess he’d called at least fifty times.
“Hey, Mr. Persistent,” I said in a sleepy voice.
“Luce.” He sighed. I could feel his relief in that one word.
“You were out of line tonight, Ryder,” I said, reminding myself to stay calm.
“I know,” he replied, his voice all low and rough, like he hadn’t said a word in days. “But so were you, Luce.”
“Huh?” I sat up in bed. “I wasn’t the one verbally threatening to kill a man.”
“No. No, you weren’t. But you were the one cuddled up to him and practically sharing a pillow.”
“Yeah, Anton was next to me. So was India. And Thomas. And Holly. And LJ, too. We were all camped out on the floor watching Ice Age in a kick-ass fort.” With all the Face Time calls Jude and I had been doing, it felt strange just talking to him. I couldn’t read the expressions on his face; I could only guess how he felt from his voice.
“That man is into you, Luce. I know you don’t believe me, and I know you want to believe he’s just a friend, but friendship is the farthest thing from his mind when it comes to you.” His voice was so controlled, so restrained. I was proud of him . . . still irritated, but proud.
“We weren’t even close enough to touch elbows, Jude.”
“But that doesn’t change the fact that he wanted to touch you and easily could have, since you were lying right next to him.”
With everything that had happened tonight, I’d pushed aside the bomb Anton dropped after work. I’d planned on telling Jude, because that wasn’t something I thought I should keep from him, but now, after Jude was already pissed to the moon and back, he’d surely charter a plane and fly across the country tonight just so he could kick Anton’s ass in person. Was it a lie if I omitted it for maybe a week?
From the guilt that trickled into my veins, I guessed it was.
“Now, Luce. I’m sorry for the way I lost it tonight. That’s on me,” he said, interrupting my thoughts. “But I need you to keep your distance from Anton. I know you want to believe the best in everyone, but not everyone has the best intentions, Luce.”
“How do you expect me to keep my distance? He’s my boss. I file his paperwork and submit his expense reports and make PowerPoint presentations for him Monday through Friday.” After taking a few hours to cool off, I realized I’d been a tad rash in wanting to quit. I had a job, a good, paying one, and I didn’t want to pack up my cardboard box all because my boss had admitted he was attracted to me. Anton certainly wouldn’t have been the first boss to hit on his secretary.
“Remind me again why you’re so insistent on having your own job?”
I sighed my answer.
“Okay, okay. So you can’t physically keep your distance from him, but keep your emotional distance from him. That’s all I’m saying, Luce,” he said, sounding more tired than anything else. That was the same way I felt. “And no more lying next to him with a bunch of blankets and shit, dressed in nothing but a tiny tank top and my underwear. Okay?”
“Are you asking or telling?”
“Do you really need to ask, Luce?”
“After the whole thing tonight . . .” I said, trying not to replay it in my head. “Yeah, I need to ask.”
“Asking. I’m always asking, Luce,” he said. “Sometimes I just ask with a little extra enthusiasm.”
I heard an almost-smile in his voice and could feel my own starting to bloom. “Sometimes? More like all the time.”
He gave his low laugh. “Yeah, you’re right. But the only reason I’m asking with enthusiasm is because I care about you, Luce. I care about you more than I’ve ever cared about anything else. I’d do anything, sacrifice anything, and say anything to protect you.”
“I wouldn’t put Anton Xavier high on the list of what I need protecting from,” I replied.
“I would,” he answered instantly. “And if you’re having a tough time understanding where I’m coming from, just put yourself in my shoes. What would you do if you found out I was working for some rich, fine chick who would do anything to get me into bed, and then you called one night to say good night and found me cozied up next to her?” He paused, probably more to drive the point home than to catch his breath. “Would your reaction be so different from mine?”
I wanted to snap back with, Of course it would, or, Hell yes, but I didn’t. Because I knew he was right. Jude had made me understand his point of view, and that was a feat worthy of the Nobel Peace Prize.
“No, it wouldn’t,” I admitted reluctantly. “I’d claw that bitch’s eyes out through the phone if I needed to.”
Jude was laughing in earnest now. Hearing him laugh made me chuckle, too. “So we understand each other, Luce.”
“Always,” I said, yawning around my laughter. “Sometimes it just takes us a while to get there.”
“Sometimes?” he said. “How about all the time?”
I lay back down and burrowed into my pillow. “Thanks for calling fifty times and apologizing.”
“Thanks for answering on the fiftieth call and accepting.”
The moment after we hung up, I was free of the rest/awake limbo land. I didn’t wake up once until my little-man alarm clock was bouncing on my bed, bearing pancakes in the shape of footballs.
It was Friday night again. Our weekly dinners with our thrown-together family already felt like a time-honored tradition. Last week we’d made manicotti and garlic bread, and this week we were making our special guest’s favorite meaclass="underline" cheeseburgers and fries.
Jude had flown in earlier this afternoon, and even though I fought tooth and nail to get the day off so I could pick him up at the airport, Anton had had a big day full of meetings and conference calls, and said that if ever he needed an admin, today was the day. So I’d been stuck at the office when Jude had landed. I knew he was probably already at our apartment, just waiting.
This afternoon had been a torturous practice in patience.
I was watching my computer screen like a hawk, so when it changed over to five p.m., I was out of my seat and halfway to the door before anyone else had powered down their computers over in cubicle city. Anton had gone to an off-site meeting an hour ago, so I didn’t have to check with him to see if he had any last-minute tasks for me before I left.
Once I was inside the Mazda, I fought every instinct to NASCAR my way back to the apartment. I forced myself to follow the speed limit, and I even made myself pull over at the mall to make a quick purchase.
My watching LJ evenings and weekends was working out better than any of us could have imagined. He listened to me as much as a minicaveman could, he helped me with chores around the apartment, and I could even take him out in public without having to worry about leaving behind a trail of chaos.