Providence (The Velvet Series Book 2) Page 14

  “That was you in the bathroom earlier, wasn’t it?” I don’t need to turn around to know whose hands are locked on my hips, but I make an effort to anyway. Katrina prohibits it, closing the small gap between us. I can feel her warm breath on the back of my neck as her hands force my hips to move in time with hers. Within seconds my body joins her movements. I can feel the soft caress of her nose as she slowly moves her head from the base of my neck around to my ear. “Were you thinking about me?” I freeze as she whispers the question, her breath tickling my sensitive ears. I feel the pressure of her hands on my hips as she forces me to turn and face her. Her silver eyes ooze something I’ve only glimpsed there before. She pulls me closer to her and wraps her arms around my waist. I feel my arms wrap around her neck, wondering where the command came from. We continue grinding against one another, our eyes locked, unwavering; as if we’re challenging each other to make the next move. The two halves of my brain fight a war with each other, half wanting the next song to have the same tempo, the other half hoping it’s something upbeat so I can escape this without further damage. I have no idea where our friends are, the only person I see is Katrina, and all I feel is lust surging through my body. Katrina licks her lips and draws my attention to them. I close my eyes trying to shake the image, but all I can think about is what it would feel like, her lips on mine, running my tongue over her lower lip. I feel the pressure of Katrina’s lips on mine and fleetingly wonder if I’m imagining it. She runs the tip of her tongue over my lips, and I feel my body tremble as I part my lips to respond. Our lips collide and our tongues tentatively probe one another’s mouths before the kiss intensifies, our need for one another growing at a fever pitch. I pull out of the kiss slightly as I suck on her lower lip before forcing our mouths back together. The song ends and our lips separate. I look at Katrina and see a barrage of emotions cross her face as she looks at me, shock, horror, mortification, sadness, but none of the desire that had been present. She backs away from me, and I see her dart into the crowd. I stand frozen, unable to process what just happened. When I can finally move, I try to follow her trail through the crowded bar, knowing she must have gone outside. I head out the door looking for her, but she isn’t there. I walk around the building, but don’t see her. I call her, but she doesn’t answer. I send her a text while I stand at the entrance waiting for her response, one that never comes. I have no idea what just happened or what it means.

  “Are you ok?” I hadn’t heard the door open, but Abby stands in front of me. Everyone witnessing the kiss only makes this worse, they will expect answers, answers that I don’t possess.

  “I’ve gotta get out of here.” I pull up the app and arrange for a ride home.

  “If you leave now everyone will think you left together.” Abby is right, I know she is, but I can’t go back inside and deal with my friends right now.

  “It doesn’t matter. You should go inside and have a good time.”

  “Ok.” She turns to head through the door, but stops before opening it, turning back to me. “Sara, you didn’t do anything wrong. I know you’re telling yourself that you did, but she went after you.”

  “I know, but I should have walked away. Part of me didn’t want to.” Abby shakes her head as she opens the door and heads back inside.

  My ride arrives, and I ask the driver if she has time to make a quick stop. She assures me she does, so I give her Katrina’s address. Her condo is closer to the city than her house was, but still on the way to my place. I try to call her again, but this time I go straight to voicemail. Now I know she’s avoiding me. The driver pulls into her driveway, and I ask the her to wait a minute. I feel like a stalker as I knock on her door. There are lights on, and I catch the movement of the blinds out of the corner of my eye. She won’t be coming to the door. I have no other option but to give up and go home.

  Chapter 12

  Saturday morning I get up and drag myself into the three interviews we have scheduled. I’m not mentally focused enough to do this today, but I have no choice. I check my phone only to see that I have no missed calls or messages since I last checked it 15 minutes ago. I shower and change into business professional attire, wishing I could just wear the scrubs that I wear more often than not. I step out of the house into the early morning sunshine, thankful that I was able to drink enough water last night to eliminate any chance of a hangover today. I send Katrina another message asking her to talk to me, but hold out no hope of getting a reply. I leave for the office, stopping to pick up bagels, fruit, and juice on the way.

  The interviews go well enough, I think. I’m honestly so distracted by waiting for my phone to vibrate that I can hardly focus. One candidate seems to standout above the rest though, and my partners seem to agree. Not wanting to lose this candidate like we have others before, we call and ask if she’d like to come in to discuss things some more. Given that she currently lives in California, we agree to meet with her in an hour. I grab a bagel and head to my office, closing the door for a little bit of privacy. A knock at the door wakes me. I lift my head from the desk as the door opens. One of my partners informs me that Dr. Westland is back. He pauses and looks at me, I know he wants to say something else but thinks better of it and closes the door. I check my hair and face in a small mirror I keep in the top drawer. I make a few minor adjustments to my hair and quickly eat half the bagel I grabbed earlier. Time to get this over with.

  I leave the office telling myself one month. Westland will be starting in one month, meaning that by the holiday season I should have some of my workload lifted, allowing me to take a vacation. It’s all that I’ve wanted this last year, to have a new partner committed to joining us, reducing my caseload. I should be happy, but I’m still distracted. I check my phone to see that I have several new messages and missed calls, none of them from Katrina. I ignore all of them and head home.

  I have a lot to get done, but it isn’t going to happen today. Instead, I change into a pair of mesh shorts and a t-shirt, order a pizza and put on Closer. I binge on pizza and wallow in my growing emotional whirlwind. When the credits roll I start Great Expectations. Noticing a trend, I shut it off and start The Silence of the Lambs. I wake up on my couch to find the movie over so I shut off the TV and crawl into my bed.

  I wake up early Sunday morning recognizing the manic state I get in when something unresolved is bothering me. My emotions are in complete chaos, my burnout, sexual frustration, confusion about the Katrina situation and a litany of others pulverize the damn that usually holds everything back. I want to scream, cry and hit something all at the same time. The bad thing is that Katrina still has not contacted me, the good is that I always get a lot accomplished when I find myself like this. The sun isn’t up yet, but the grocery store is always open. I make a list of what I need and am home before dawn. I look around the house to see if anything needs cleaning, but the service always does an excellent job and the house is spotless. I round up any laundry that needs to be done and get that started. I get caught up on my charting between loads. I prep some meals for the week and get everything cleaned up. I’m fully caught up and out of things to do before noon. Still wanting the distraction of busy work, I back my car out of the garage to detail and wash it. With nothing else left to do I jump in the shower. I hear the doorbell ringing as I step out, so I toss on clean shorts and a shirt without toweling off. I open the front door to find Katrina standing on my porch. She stares at me, and I’m keenly aware of the shirt and shorts and clinging to my skin, showcasing the fact that I am not wearing a bra or panties. I really don’t care at this point, so I walk away leaving the door open.

  “You have a key you know.” I hear the sound of the door closing behind me but don’t bother turning around to see if she’s here or has run off again.

  “I didn’t know if you’d want to see me.”

  “You didn’t know if I wanted to see you? I called and messaged you several times. I even stopped by your place Friday night. I know you were home, that you know i
t was me. I’ve tried, and you’ve been avoiding me.” There is an edge to my voice, I can feel the anger building up inside.

  “I know. I needed time to process.” I wait for her to continue, but she just stands there staring out the window. I refuse to beg her to talk, so I open the refrigerator and look for something to drink. Finding nothing, I close the door and settle for a glass of water. I offer the glass to Katrina. She takes it, so I fill another. “Can we sit down?” She heads into the den before I can respond. I find her seated on one end of the sofa, so I plant myself on the ottoman, not wanting to be too comfortable. I listen to the sound of the clock on the wall ticking the seconds away, waiting for Katrina to finally speak. “So, things got a little crazy Friday night.”

  “Was that before or after you kissed me then ran away?” Katrina flinches, and her eyes shift to the floor.

  “That’s fair. Both I guess. Please don’t take it personally.” Katrina seems to have lost some of the life that she’s shown the last month or so, but it doesn’t stop me from being angry.

  “Don’t take it personal? You came after me, you flirted with me, you started shit with me on the dance floor, you kissed me and when I responded you ran away and ignored my existence. How do I not take that personally?”

  “I ran because I felt like shit after it happened!” She shouts, but I can’t tell if it’s because she’s trying to get through to me or if she’s becoming angry herself. She takes a deep breath and blows it out slowly. “You’re right, I flirted with you, I watched you dance, I thought about you in the bathroom, I pursued you on that dance floor, and I kissed you…all because I wanted to. l wanted it, and I enjoyed it…but somewhere in the mix of making out with you and the alcohol, Jill came to mind, and it was like having a bucket of ice water tossed on you as a means of waking you up when you’re sound asleep. I felt like I had betrayed her, that I cheated on her, that I shouldn’t be enjoying myself with you. I couldn’t breathe. So I ran. I hid in the parking lot across the street. I watched you when you came out looking for me, you walked around the building, and then Abby checked on you. I used her distraction to sneak out of the lot and down to the corner. I caught a cab and went home. I was there when you arrived a short while later but couldn’t see you.” She looks at me, wanting a response but I can’t give her one. I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut, I want to breathe but I can’t. “I’m sorry, this isn’t fair to either of us.”

  “What do you want me to say?” I can’t yell at her, argue with her, or anything really. I’ve never been in her shoes before. It’s clear that the situation has been bothering her as much, if not more, than me.

  “I don’t know, tell me something, anything. Don’t you feel anything right now?”

  “I feel, I don’t know…confused I guess.” This conversation hasn’t clarified any of my confusion regarding what happened between Katrina and I. I still am unsure if I harbor genuine feelings for her.

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means that I need you to leave.” Katrina drops her gaze from my face to the floor as she stands up. She heads for the front door, and I follow her down the hall. She opens the door to leave, but turns to face me after she steps out onto the porch.

  “Are we ever going to be ok? I really don’t want to lose you.” I see her eyes become glassy, know that there are tears there, threatening to make their presence known. She looks miserable, and her sadness weakens my resolve.

  “We will be.” I have nothing else to say, so I close the door, leaving her standing there. I feel insensitive and foolish, but mostly I wish I could just not feel. Thankful that I’m not on call, I shut off the ringer, plant myself in my reading chair and stare off into space.

  Chapter 13

  I don’t see or really speak to Katrina for two weeks. I message Jason excusing myself for missing our sessions due to work. I have no idea if Katrina showed up, I just know I couldn’t see her, much less spar with her. Katrina messages me but I either neglect to respond, or I keep my responses as short and uninviting as possible. I resort to living on autopilot, moving from one commitment to another, trying to not feel anything, but the emotional whirlwind persists. Everyone tries to get me to talk about it, but I don’t care to, so eventually, I stop talking to everyone. This is how I cope, how I deal with problems. It isn’t healthy, but it’s how I work.

  I pull into my driveway late Friday evening to find Katrina sitting on my porch, a takeout bag sitting next to her. I should be irritated that she’s here without an invitation, but I can’t deny that I miss her. I park my car in the driveway and make my way to the front door. I slide my key in the lock and enter the house, leaving the door open behind me. I hear the door close and Katrina’s footsteps behind me in the hall.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Alex said you were going to have a late day, so I brought you dinner…and I miss you.” I have to admit to myself that I’ve missed her as well. Two weeks and I still have no idea what my feelings toward Katrina are.

  “Please don’t say things like that to me.” I see the confusion on her face.

  “That I miss you? Why not? I do miss you.” She still doesn’t get it. I close my eyes in frustration.

  “Don’t you get it? I have no idea how I’m supposed to feel about you or our situation.” Katrina is still confused, and if I’m honest, so am I. I still don’t have answers for how things got so out of hand, but the fact that what happened is still bothering me is answer enough.

  “What do you mean?”

  “It means that I think I might have feelings for you that I either didn’t know existed or that I ignored until everything blew up. You either don’t or can’t return those feelings. I don’t want to lose you as a friend, I’m just struggling with sorting out my emotions right now. So I can’t have you showing up here telling me that you miss me because I miss you too, I’m just not sure on what level.” Katrina processes my words, giving them time to sink in. I busy myself getting a glass of ice water, not wanting to see any signs of hurting on her face. I take a drink and deposit the glass on the counter. I want to change into something lighter, so I head towards my bedroom. Katrina blocks my path, the look on her face isn’t one of hurt.

  “You know that I care about you too, right?” She takes my hands in each of hers, my body involuntarily responding to the contact. I close my eyes and breathe, not wanting to say something harsh or do something foolish. When I open them again Katrina has moved a step closer, the lust filled look back in her eyes.

  “Please don’t look at me like that.”

  “Why not? I want you, you want me. We could have some fun.”

  “Where is this coming from? Why would you even suggest it? Do you enjoy seeing me like this? Do you want to humiliate me more?” She recoils at my words and the site of two weeks of repressed emotions threatening to streak down my face.

  “No, it isn’t that. I enjoyed what happened at Velvet, I thought you said you did too. We could enjoy each other some more, if you want.”

  “Why so you can run out of my house like your ass is on fire the same way you did at the bar? No thanks, I’d rather not invest in something so I can get hurt in the end.”

  “But I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just thought that maybe we could keep this casual, you know, one of your no strings flings you’ve told me about.” I know my feelings are more evolved than lust when this doesn’t even sound remotely appealing.

  “If you came over and told me you were on the same page, that you weren’t going to freak out and run then maybe we could try again. But you want casual sex and I know I can’t give you that.” I pull my hands free from Katrina’s and move around her to escape down the hall. I slam my bedroom door and grab a clean pair of shorts and a t-shirt. I drag my feet hoping Katrina will leave, but I find her sitting in the den when I finally emerge from hiding. I head into the kitchen and hear footsteps as she follows me.

  “I do care about you, more than you realize it seems. There’s
just this horrible guilt that I feel when I think about that. I don’t want to feel like that with you, the guilt I mean. I’m trying to sort it out, I really am, I just hate not seeing you, not talking to you.”

  “What do you want me to do with that? Am I supposed to just sit around waiting for you to figure it out? Feel like I’m the other woman while you sort out your guilt complex? That isn’t fair to me, and I refuse to put myself in that situation. Come back when you’ve sorted it. We can talk then.” I storm back down the hallway and slam my bedroom door for the second time since I arrived home. I sit on my bed and stew, waiting to hear the sound of the front door closing. After fifteen minutes there is a knock on my door.