He sat down in the chair across from the sofa and his gaze was on me. I didn’t want to look at him. The fire was less confusing and unsettling. I didn’t have to pretend with the fire. Creed, however, was a different story. How did he expect me to act like we were strangers when there was so much in our past?
“You sure you’re ready for a New Hampshire winter if you’re already freezing?” he asked me.
I turned my head to meet his gaze then. “How do you know I’m moving to New Hampshire?” I asked him.
He smirked. “I asked.” That was it. All he was saying was that he asked.
“Why?” I shot back. If we were “strangers” then why did he care?
He sat his cup of coffee on his knee and gave a small shrug of his shoulders. “Hell, Sailor, I don’t know. Maybe because yesterday I was coming to stay with Chet and try out playing with this new band and the next thing I know you come walking back into my world. I was fucking curious,” he replied.
I watched him as he took another drink of his coffee before responding.
“You acted like you didn’t know me,” I said, pointing out the obvious.
The corner of his lips curved ever so slightly. “Yeah, well, I don’t know about you, but rehashing our history together in front of those two didn’t sound like a good time to me.”
Okay. That did make sense. If he’d let on that we knew each other, they would have wanted to know the details. Griff would have wanted more than I’d be willing to share. He would have wanted to know why I never told him about Creed and Cora. I wouldn’t have been able to explain that without possibly hurting him. I turned my focus back to the fire and drank my coffee.
We sat in silence for several minutes. I didn’t know what to say or if there was anything to say. Our past needed to stay in the past, and although I felt like I was lying to Griff, I couldn’t talk about Creed and Cora. I’d never been able to talk about the Sullivans. Not to anyone other than my therapist and she had forced it out of me.
“Best if we keep the past to ourselves,” he said breaking the silence.
I nodded my head and didn’t look at him.
He stood up then and I wondered if I’d ever be alone in the same room with him again. This would be my only chance to ask him the questions that had not only hurt me but had broken me. I had this moment and I knew I wouldn’t take it. It no longer mattered. I had moved on from Creed Sullivan. He wanted to forget and so did I.
“Griff seems like a nice guy,” he said as he stood looking down at me.
I nodded. “He’s a great guy,” I told him and forced a smile. If no other truth could be told that one could. I’d been lucky when Griff walked into my life. He had been everything I needed. He had saved me when nothing else had worked. Loving Griff was easy.
I didn’t watch as he walked away. The bedroom door closed and I knew I was alone in the room again. I had a list and some phone calls to make. Thinking of Creed Sullivan was in my past and I would not bring that back up.
I picked up my pen and opened my notebook, just as the first strum of the guitar came from the other room. Pausing, I let myself remember how his face looked when he played. It had once been one of my favorite things to see.
Creed stopped playing after an hour and fifteen minutes. I had given up trying to make a list and taken my overnight bag to the community bathroom. Luckily it was available and I had plenty of time to get a shower and put on some makeup. When I walked out of the bathroom there was a woman outside the apartment door texting something on her phone. She glanced up at me and did a once over then went back to her texting. I needed her to move so I could get inside the apartment but the tall, dark-haired, stunning female with eyes that reminded me of a cat was apparently busy.
When I stood there not moving and trying to politely wait for her to finish her text conversation, she glanced back up at me and, this time, she was scowling with annoyance. “Can I help you?” she asked with a snide tone that was uncalled for, considering I was the one who should be annoyed.
“Yes, if you could let me get inside that would be nice,” I replied as politely as I could.