Exit Light (13 page)

Hard.

He was smooth about it. Not subtle, by any means. But smooth. He knew just how much sincerity to use, just how close to sit. Or when to draw away. He knew when to talk and when to listen, and he didn’t seem taken aback when Tovah gave him one-or two-word answers only.

Using the excuse that females could only visit the restroom in pairs, Kelly pulled Tovah away from the men. In the ladies’ room she pulled out lipstick and bent forward over the sink to concentrate on lining her mouth while Tovah washed the greasy fish and chips from her fingers. Kelly gave Tovah a look in their shared reflection.

“So? You don’t like him? What?”

Tovah pulled out her compact from her purse and set about freshening her own makeup. “He’s cute.”

“Yeah, he is.” Kelly rubbed her teeth to clean them of any stray lipstick stains, blew into her hand to check her breath, and pulled out a package of mints. “Want one?”

“Is that a hint?” Tovah took the mints and crunched one.

“No. But it’s good to be prepared, huh?” Kelly laughed. “He sure is putting the moves on you.”

Tovah leaned against the sink. “What about his friend?”

Kelly laughed. “Married. I saw the ring. I slipped him a little comment about my husband and you should’ve seen the look on his face. Relief. Clearly he’s just along for the ride. Romeo on the other hand…”

“Yeah, Romeo.” Tovah sighed, looking again at her reflection. “He sure is cute.”

“Very.”

“But a metrosexual,” she couldn’t help teasing.

Kelly rolled her eyes. “Hey, some chicks dig that. I mean…we could make up some excuses about having to leave or something. I thought maybe you liked him.”

Tovah shook her head, watching her hair fall around her shoulders. She’d never worn it this long when she was with Kevin. Nor worn this much makeup. Though it was only a deeper tone of lipstick and a touch more eyeliner, the differences in her appearance still reminded her she was a single woman.

“Sort of like tossing out chum,” she said aloud.

“Huh?” Kelly put away her lipstick and the mints and turned to look at Tovah.

“I’m not so sure what I think about a guy who picks up women in bars, that’s all.” Tovah shrugged. “I mean, yes, he’s cute and he seems nice, but I can’t help but wonder at his motivation.”

Kelly frowned. “Yeah. But does that mean you can’t have fun with him tonight? Nobody says you have to go home with him.”

Tovah smiled at that. She and Kelly had talked a lot about sex, mostly as it related to Justin Ross or a few other celebrities. Fantasy talk. She hadn’t ever told Kelly about the nights she went searching for strangers in her dreams. Why would she? Besides, what she did in the Ephemeros was far different than what she did in real life.

“You’re right. Unless I want to,” she added.

Kelly grinned. “Ooh, c’mon, now. You’re going to make me jealous. He’s no Justin Ross, but he’s cute.”

“Of course not,” Tovah agreed. “Let’s go see if they’re still waiting or if they’ve hied off in search of greener pastures.”

Her admirer hadn’t abandoned her. Pete had lit a cigarette and was chatting on his cell phone, a call he quickly disconnected when she and Kelly returned to the table. John smiled and stood to pull out her chair for her.

“We weren’t sure you were coming back.” He smoothed his tie flat in a practiced, unconscious gesture as he sat. His smile teased one from her mouth. “So, where to from here?”

Tovah ducked her head to hide a smile at the faint look of panic and then resignation on Pete’s face. “Who says we have to go anywhere?”

John’s look of disappointment was brief, and he didn’t pout. “Good point. It’s nice just sitting here, talking to you.”

Not that she’d said anything of much consequence. Tovah didn’t hide her smile, this time. He smiled back. The conversation went on. As the hour grew late, Pete’s cell phone rang again. This time when he disconnected the call, he gave John a sort of desperate look.

“Man, I gotta go.”

“I have to get going, too,” Kelly added serenely.

They stood at the same time. After a moment, so did John. He shook Kelly’s hand again.

“Nice meeting you,” he told her.

“Thanks for the drink,” she answered with a cheery grin. “C’mon, Pete, walk me out to my car so I don’t get mugged.”

Pete looked scared again. Kelly sighed. “I promise to keep my hands to myself.”

John waited until they’d gone before he said, “Pete’s married.”

“So is Kelly.”

He looked a little surprised, but like his disappointment, that seemed to pass quickly, too. He waited a beat, one perfect hesitation, not too long or too short. “Are you?”

“No. Well, separated. You?”

“Not married,” he said with a firm shake of his head. “I mean, I wouldn’t be here talking to you all night if I were married, Tovah.”

“Good to know.” She’d already checked his finger for a ring and seen none, but that meant nothing. “I wouldn’t want to be here talking to you if you were.”

A slow grin spread across John’s face. Tension crackled between them. When the waiter came to ask if they wanted anything else, John looked to her for an answer. Tovah shook her head.

“It’s late. I’ve got to work in the morning.”

That was how he ended up walking her to her car. Clouds had covered the moon and stars, and the harsh blue-white light from the street lamps washed out John’s complexion. The night was too chilly to linger in conversation. John, apparently, had an idea of how to keep them warm.

His attempt at kissing her didn’t take her by surprise. What did was how she turned her face so his mouth landed on her cheek instead of her lips. Every detail moved her. The warmth of his lips and scent of mints on his breath, the squeeze of his hands on her hips as he pulled her closer. Even the chill of the car door behind her added to the scene.

John pulled away slightly to look into her eyes. “Sorry?”

She didn’t think she’d said anything. “For what?”

“Kissing you?” he asked. “Did you not want me to?”

Tovah laughed, self-conscious. From the sidewalk came a burst of raucous laughter as a group of men and women walking to their cars passed. Someone wolf-whistled. John, grinning, turned to look over his shoulder before he looked back at her.

“Kids,” he said, though he didn’t seem that old, himself.

“It’s cold. And late. I need to go,” Tovah said.

Her body tingled in the places he touched her. But when he bent to put his mouth on hers again, Tovah again turned her face. His lips brushed her cheek, and he pulled away.

“No?”

“I’ve got to go,” she said around a laugh, pushing at his chest a little. “It’s been nice, John, really. But it’s late.”

“I make great pancakes.” His voice dipped low. Sexy. He moved closer to nuzzle at her ear.

Oh, boy.

Arousal tip-toed over her skin, tightening her nipples. Her panties felt a size too small, suddenly. It would be so easy…

And so difficult.

“I can’t,” she whispered. “Believe me, I wish I could.”

This time, his disappointment wasn’t so easily pushed aside. It sat on his mouth and forced it to frown. He didn’t move back, not at first, and for a scary moment Tovah wondered if she’d severely misjudged him.

Then it passed. He smiled, though without the earlier sincerity. He took one step back, then another. He put his hands in his coat pockets.

“Thanks for the drink. And everything.” She didn’t like the all-of-a-sudden too-eager tone in her voice and stopped herself from saying more.

“Sure. Nice meeting you. You okay here? You’ve got your keys and everything?”

She showed him. “Yes. Thanks again.”

John nodded. “Good night.”

He didn’t ask for her number. Didn’t ask if he could see her again. Tovah watched him go, a sick feeling like an unexpected punch settling into her stomach. It was like she didn’t know what he wanted, but to have it so blatantly proven was more than an insult. It made her feel like a fool.

Worst of all, her reasons for turning him down had nothing to do with morals, or her hopes that playing hard to get would hold his interest better than going to bed with him at once. No. She had no problem with sex for the sake of sex…at least, she didn’t used to.

No. She’d turned him down because she was afraid of that moment when the lights go off and the clothes fall away, when she could no longer hide what shouldn’t have to be a secret.

And what had happened? She’d been rejected anyway, no matter how subtly, and she couldn’t even blame it on prejudice about her disability. It was a rejection, entirely, of her.

She didn’t bother to watch him turn the corner, just got in her car and fired the engine. The ride home took less than ten minutes. The mail scattered on the floor when she opened the front door. Her foot caught a sales flyer and she slid hard enough to catch herself on the side table. Muttering a curse, she bent to gather it.

The envelope marked with the return address of a familiar legal firm caught her eye as she hit the button on the answering machine. She slit open the envelope and pulled out the thick sheaf of papers just as Kevin’s voice emerged from the speakers.

“Tov, it’s me. I really need those papers signed.” A feminine voice burbled something she didn’t understand in the background. “Yeah. Anyway, if you could get them signed and sent back ASAP, I’d appreciate it. Bye.”

He’d actually said
ASAP
like it was a word. Tovah checked the date on the top letter. Two weeks ago. She flipped the envelope. Two days ago.

“Prick.” Saying the word aloud made her feel better. “Did you tell her you didn’t mail the fucking papers and I only just got them? No. I bet you told her I was holding on to them to be a bitch. Well, guess what, asshole, you can wait another two weeks before I sign these.”

She tossed them onto her kitchen table and looked up as Max came out of the kitchen. “Hey, buddy. What’s up? Did you miss me, at least?”

Max sat on his haunches, grinning.

“Yeah,” she told him. “I know. I’m out late. I’ve been drinking and canoodling. Are you going to ground me?”

No discernable judgment from Max, whose tail thumped the hardwood floor in a regular beat. Tovah sighed and scrubbed at his head with her fist. His fur, soft on her knuckles, made her think of the way John’s hair had touched her there not so long ago.

She sat suddenly in the worn leather chair just inside the living room doorway. Max whined and laid his head on her knee. Tovah closed her eyes against unwelcome tears.

“You know what he wants me to sign?” she asked him. “You want to know what those papers are? A share of my insurance claim, Max. Yes, that’s right. He drove the car that crashed into the truck that crushed my leg. Welcome to the fucking house that Jack built. And now he wants a piece of the settlement.”

Max licked her hand. Tovah sniffled, hand pressed to her eyes. “He left me, and he still wants a piece of my money. Never mind that he makes almost twice what I make. Or that he doesn’t want to take responsibility for any of the medical bills, Max. Because I haven’t forced him to. Because I’m too damned nice, that’s what! That’s what!”

It was no good yelling at the dog, who couldn’t complain about being so abused. It wasn’t Max’s fault Kevin had turned out to be a heartless bastard. Or maybe just a bastard, which was worse. That he kept on finding ways to gouge her when he knew how much he was hurting her, and did it anyway.

“Jennifer must be one smoking hot piece of pussy, that’s all I have to say.” Tovah rubbed beneath Max’s chin. The dog’s eyes closed in ecstasy. “Hear me? Pussy.”

He barked, once, twice, and she shushed him with a laugh, mindful of the neighbors. “You said it. I hope she gave him the clap, too.”

Tovah looked at the table where the papers lay, then down at her faithful pooch. “It’s bedtime.”

Max yawned and put his head back into her hand. Tovah put her face to the dog’s soft fur, smelling faintly of shampoo. She closed her eyes and took what comfort she could from knowing that if nothing else, she was the world to this one creature.

He took her up against a wall, hard and fast. No speaking. Tovah touched the lines of his face, heard the rough hoarseness of his breathing. They climaxed together, him with a shout and her with a sigh.

It was easy to tilt the wall behind her until she lay upon it, easier still to shape hard brick into a soft mattress. They lay upon it together, both still breathing fast. So far, neither of them had said a word.

“Tell me what I needed,” Tovah said. A challenge.

Her lover turned on his side to stretch out along her body. Warmth from his skin kept the chill from her better than any blanket. He ran his hand over her body.

“To feel wanted.”

This perfect answer hit so close to home she gasped with it and sat, turning from him. Tovah pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes, pushing back tears. She wished she hadn’t asked.

He touched her hip and drew her closer, back toward him. He spooned against her. His breath caressed the back of her neck and stirred the tumbled length of her hair.

“Is it so wrong?” he asked finally. Softly. “Why should you be ashamed of something so many people want?”

She couldn’t explain to him that she didn’t want a guide. She wanted a lover. A real person to hold her. To want her.

Her lover said nothing when she didn’t answer. He stroked over her hip, then up again, each touch meant to calm her. The subtle tug and pull of his will tried to soothe her, and after a while, she let it. She let him take away the tension and the grief, let him surround her instead with calm.

She turned to look at him at last. “You always have a different face, but I still know it’s you.”

He smiled. “I’m whatever you want.”

She teased his hair from golden to midnight and shaped his eyes from green to gold. “What about what you want?”

He shrugged and kissed her. Against her mouth, he murmured, “I’m not concerned with my physical representation.”

“Why not?” She sat again but without drawing away.

He sat, too. “Because it doesn’t matter what I look like. It matters how I behave. Doesn’t it?”

He cocked his head to look at her. His features stilled, frozen by her will, and he smiled and didn’t fight her. Tovah gave him perfect arched brows and blue-green eyes, a full mouth and two dimples.

“It’s distracting,” she said after a moment, though the result was perfect.

He passed a hand over his face like a mime using the motion to change expression. “Only because you let it be.”

“I thought you were supposed to give me what I want,” Tovah said, annoyed.

“What you need.” Her lover smiled. “Guides give you what you need, remember? Even when you don’t know you need it?”

Tears stung again and she blinked against them. She lifted her chin, stubborn, feeling an urge to argue. “Okay. So give me what I need.”

She thought he would make love to her again. Make her breathless. Make her forget there was a real life that failed her.

Instead, he drew her close and linked his fingers with hers. He held them tight in his, held her against his body, her head upon his shoulder. He embraced her, skin on skin, and though his lips pressed against her neck, the kiss was one of comfort and not seduction.

It was exactly what she needed.

“Where’s your friend?” The witchwoman’s words were not cruel, but her tone was. She leered in the doorway.

The boy said nothing. He watched the dogman pacing, its fists clenching and sometimes creeping to the tools on its belt. Drool, thick white curds of it, curdled in the corners of its mouth. It smelled bad.

“Don’t you know there’s nobody for you?” The witchwoman put herself between the boy and the dogman, forcing him to look at her, instead. “Maybe you’d like it better if I let him have you? Would you like that?”

She snapped and the dogman turned. It squatted by her side so she could pat its head. Like a pet. The boy shuddered and withdrew. He was so tired his eyes felt like he’d rubbed sand into them, but he dared not close them.

“Do you want him?” the witchwoman asked the dogman, who growled low in its throat. Her fingers stroked over coarse fur. “Do you want to bite that boy? Make him bleed?”

The dogman’s growl revved like an engine. Like laughter. It lunged forward, snapping at the boy’s feet.

With a cry, the boy jerked out of reach, his eyes closing and hands thrusting forward. Pushing. Pushing. Wishing he could run and knowing he had no place to go.