relationship, but after eight months he’s not moved out of the family home and lately I hardly see him.”
“You must realize what it looks like from the outside.”
“No matter what I do, I end up feeling guilty.”
“Did you ever think that maybe he’s only saying these things so he can get close to his son?”
“It has crossed my mind. I’ve been trying to distance myself, but it’s tricky. He’s the father of my child. A part of me really wants this to work.” She paused. “Why do you think we’re attracted to people who can hurt us?”
“I don’t know, Macy. I suppose it has something to do with actually wanting to feel something. I guess it would be easier to be with someone who lets you glide along the surface, but who wants to live that way? The problem with your situation is that there is no balance.”
“All I know for sure is that I’m tired of hurting.” Macy leaned back and stifled a yawn. If she wasn’t careful, she’d fall asleep. Aiden looked deep in thought.
“Sorry,” she said. “I got a little serious there, didn’t I?”
“You did indeed.” He rapped the table with his knuckles. “If you’re going to get serious, I’m going to order a serious drink. You want something?”
Macy swirled the wine in her glass and admitted that she did.
* * *
They walked back to her motel together, occasionally bumping shoulders when they misstepped. Both had their hands dug deeply into their pockets. He helped collect her bag from her vehicle, which she’d parked around back. She pointed to the enclosed stairwell.
“I think I can make it from here.”
“Too risky. You might get lost.”
Macy wasn’t sure who started it. One second, they were walking side by side, and the next they were midgrope, backed up against a wall at the base of the stairwell.
“This is a bad idea,” he said, fumbling with the buttons on her shirt.
“Exceptionally bad,” she said, kissing him harder.
He slid his hand up her shirt. “But it is nice.”
“Very.”
His cell phone vibrated in his pocket and his hand stopped moving. He put his forehead against her shoulder. “That would be my conscience calling.”
“I’m sorry to hear you have one.”
“I should go.”
She held him a little tighter. “Probably a good idea.”
He kissed her on the shoulder and groaned before backing away. He nearly tripped on the stairs.
Macy laughed. “You’re not driving, are you?”
His finger waved in a northerly direction. “I live a block that way. It’s 23 Sutter Street, in case you have a change of heart.”
She saluted him. “Duly noted.”
“Tomorrow, can we pretend this never happened?”
“That’s probably for the best. Sleep well, Aiden Marsh.”
“You too, Macy Greeley.”
Macy peeled away from the wall and gripped the handrail tightly as she made her way up the stairs. She passed by her door twice before seeing the room number. No doubt Aiden was laughing at her from across the street. She had to admit she liked the sound of his laugh.
“Good kisser too,” she said, closing the door behind her.
The room was a time capsule from the 1950s. Everything from the curtains to the wallpaper to the furniture was retro, but it was clean and didn’t smell of the former occupants. She sank down on her bed and slid her phone out of the pocket of her jeans. The text messages from Ray had become more insistent as the evening wore on. She looked at the time. It was only just coming up to ten o’clock. With any luck she’d get eight hours of sleep. She took a deep breath and typed, checking the message twice to make sure she had it right.
I’m finally in my motel room. Call me. We need to talk.
She hit Send with a flourish and went to the bathroom to brush her teeth and down a couple of ibuprofen, stripping off her clothes and leaving them rumpled on the floor. There was a text from Ray waiting for her when she climbed into bed.
Sorry, no can do. How was your day?
Macy
“You must realize what it looks like from the outside.”
“No matter what I do, I end up feeling guilty.”
“Did you ever think that maybe he’s only saying these things so he can get close to his son?”
“It has crossed my mind. I’ve been trying to distance myself, but it’s tricky. He’s the father of my child. A part of me really wants this to work.” She paused. “Why do you think we’re attracted to people who can hurt us?”
“I don’t know, Macy. I suppose it has something to do with actually wanting to feel something. I guess it would be easier to be with someone who lets you glide along the surface, but who wants to live that way? The problem with your situation is that there is no balance.”
“All I know for sure is that I’m tired of hurting.” Macy leaned back and stifled a yawn. If she wasn’t careful, she’d fall asleep. Aiden looked deep in thought.
“Sorry,” she said. “I got a little serious there, didn’t I?”
“You did indeed.” He rapped the table with his knuckles. “If you’re going to get serious, I’m going to order a serious drink. You want something?”
Macy swirled the wine in her glass and admitted that she did.
* * *
They walked back to her motel together, occasionally bumping shoulders when they misstepped. Both had their hands dug deeply into their pockets. He helped collect her bag from her vehicle, which she’d parked around back. She pointed to the enclosed stairwell.
“I think I can make it from here.”
“Too risky. You might get lost.”
Macy wasn’t sure who started it. One second, they were walking side by side, and the next they were midgrope, backed up against a wall at the base of the stairwell.
“This is a bad idea,” he said, fumbling with the buttons on her shirt.
“Exceptionally bad,” she said, kissing him harder.
He slid his hand up her shirt. “But it is nice.”
“Very.”
His cell phone vibrated in his pocket and his hand stopped moving. He put his forehead against her shoulder. “That would be my conscience calling.”
“I’m sorry to hear you have one.”
“I should go.”
She held him a little tighter. “Probably a good idea.”
He kissed her on the shoulder and groaned before backing away. He nearly tripped on the stairs.
Macy laughed. “You’re not driving, are you?”
His finger waved in a northerly direction. “I live a block that way. It’s 23 Sutter Street, in case you have a change of heart.”
She saluted him. “Duly noted.”
“Tomorrow, can we pretend this never happened?”
“That’s probably for the best. Sleep well, Aiden Marsh.”
“You too, Macy Greeley.”
Macy peeled away from the wall and gripped the handrail tightly as she made her way up the stairs. She passed by her door twice before seeing the room number. No doubt Aiden was laughing at her from across the street. She had to admit she liked the sound of his laugh.
“Good kisser too,” she said, closing the door behind her.
The room was a time capsule from the 1950s. Everything from the curtains to the wallpaper to the furniture was retro, but it was clean and didn’t smell of the former occupants. She sank down on her bed and slid her phone out of the pocket of her jeans. The text messages from Ray had become more insistent as the evening wore on. She looked at the time. It was only just coming up to ten o’clock. With any luck she’d get eight hours of sleep. She took a deep breath and typed, checking the message twice to make sure she had it right.
I’m finally in my motel room. Call me. We need to talk.
She hit Send with a flourish and went to the bathroom to brush her teeth and down a couple of ibuprofen, stripping off her clothes and leaving them rumpled on the floor. There was a text from Ray waiting for her when she climbed into bed.
Sorry, no can do. How was your day?
Macy
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