Stay a Little Longer Page 5

  “No,” Caty sighed. “Well, I had one when I had an accident way back. My friend isn’t really my therapist, but he studied psychology to please his parents because they wanted him to be a doctor.”

  She tucked her hair behind her ear. “I’m babbling.”

  Elan gulped.

  Caty resumed putting her clothes back on. “I’m attracted to you for all the wrong reasons. I could hear him telling me that.”

  It was a nail in his coffin. Elan glumly stared down at himself, now the only one naked and freezing in the room. This is your fault. You said you can’t, he thought.

  “Now that that’s established,” she inhaled, getting all serious, “don’t feel bad about it. I kissed you first. We were in the moment. I was seeking validation. My therapist would also say that.”

  Caty tilted her head at him. “You seem as if you needed . . . something too. We were doing each other a service.”

  “A service,” he repeated. But he hadn’t given her what she needed.

  “And you don’t even like me.”

  “Not true,” he was quick to refute.

  “Yeah? What do you like about me?”

  He wanted to raise his hand and gesture at all of her, but he didn’t. It just seemed as if that wasn’t her point.

  “You seem interesting,” he managed.

  Caty laughed. She stepped closer and ruffled his hair, as if he was a kid. “Oh, honey. You have no idea.”

  Two for two. How low can one go after today, really? First, she was ditched by Otto. Then Madeline chased her. Second, she was rejected by this guy who she thought was honestly into her. Well, maybe she was more into him, but Elan liked her enough, she reckoned, and that was fine. She wasn’t going to marry him—she just wanted some attention. She was longing for that feeling of being wanted again. And she’d felt it with him; she was sure. He was with her when they were sucking each other’s faces, wasn’t he?

  What the hell happened?

  She headed to the bathroom, and before closing the door, she told him, “Just go.”

  She turned on the shower, and the sound filled the bathroom, comforting her a bit. She leaned back on the door and tried to hear what was going on in the room.

  He could go; he should go.

  How many hours did she have left before she flew out of the country? This was exactly why she didn’t stay in the Philippines for too long. She just had the worst luck here.

  She closed her eyes and prayed please, please, please, until she heard movement. Feet shuffling. He’s probably getting dressed.

  Caty turned back, faced the door, and waited.

  A couple of minutes passed then nothing. Her hand hovered over the knob until she heard the door open and close.

  So he did go.

  She dropped her hand. She should have just stayed alone this whole day. Why the hell did she think that having some company would be a good idea? Especially when she barely knew him?

  She stared at herself in the mirror. Her eyes looked tired, her hair was a mess, and her eye makeup needed a touch-up. Instead of repairing the damage, she took the rest of her clothes off and stepped into the shower. It was freezing cold, and she shuddered as soon as the water hit her head and shoulders, but she let it soak her.

  If she could drown the memory of this day, she would.

  When she was done, she took her time with the hair dryer and what little makeup she had in her purse. She managed to smile at her reflection.

  She’d be okay. She just needed to get back to Toronto.

  She had some time to nap before her alarm went off; then she called reception. No one was answering, though, so she went down to ask for a cab.

  As soon as the elevator doors opened, she saw him waiting for her in the lobby.

  She quickly pushed the elevator button to close the doors again before he could get up from his seat. She gulped.

  Great, what’s the plan? Hide in the elevator? She had to go out; she knew that. She just had to walk out of the elevator then straight to the door with her head up. She could get her own cab.

  Caty took a deep breath and pressed the open button.

  He was still there. What the hell is he still doing here? He looked confused at what she did. If she had cared, she would have explained. But she had a plan: walk out, head up.

  She focused on the glass doors. He didn’t follow her, thank God, and she managed to get out fine.

  It was still pitch dark, and the guard jolted from his sleep when he saw her.

  “Taxi, ma’am?” he asked.

  Caty nodded. The guard rubbed his eyes and stumbled out into the street to hail a cab.

  “I’ll take you,” she heard.

  Caty ignored him. In her periphery, she saw him walk up to her until he was just a foot away.

  “We don’t have to talk,” he offered.

  Caty paused. She watched the guard struggle to get a cab, as the streets were void of vehicles.

  She just needed to get out of this country. Fast. But if that meant spending a couple of humiliating moments with this guy again . . .

  Well, it’s not like the worst hadn’t already happened.

  “You don’t have to sit next to me.”

  She turned, deciding that her desire to leave the country was stronger than her desire to avoid him. So she handed him her bag as if he was her chauffeur and said, “Let’s go.”

  The drive back was very quiet. Sure, Elan had wanted quiet earlier, but not now. It was awkward and uncomfortable and just . . . wrong. He’d waited in the hotel lobby for hours because he couldn’t just go, but he couldn’t stay with her either.

  They arrived at the airport, and she quickly thanked him and started to open the door.

  Elan hurried around the car to catch the door and held it open for her.

  “You don’t have to do that,” she said.

  “Look, I’m . . .”

  Caty shook her head. “Don’t. You’re gonna make it worse.”

  He’d been about to apologize, but would that make it worse? She deserved the apology—he was the one who’d messed up.

  “Look, let’s just drop it,” Caty continued. “I mean, who knows? We might actually have a shot at being friends. We already got rid of the sexual stuff.”

  Elan wasn’t expecting that. How would leaving each other sexually frustrated give them a shot at being friends? Maybe it was one of those things, an ice cream cone: something nice and sweet to tell someone before it melts. This girl lived in another country, and he had a full life here. Not to mention the fact that he may have been in love with another girl for the last two years. Sex or not, he and Caty were not made to last longer than this day.

  But he decided to hand her an ice cream cone too. “Good, I could use one of those.”

  Caty smirked. “Especially now that you’re gonna break up with Juliana, right?”

  He frowned. “Why would I break up with her?”

  “This is a fact,” she said, holding up a finger. “Once a girl gets a boyfriend, she loses her two closest friends. Those girls she was roomies with in college? They’re as good as barnacles on her ship.”

  She continued, “Juliana and I just made up. I’m her boyfriend’s sister, so it’s not gonna be me, Judy.”

  “So you assume she’s gonna drop me?”

  “There are too many people in her life,” Caty argued. “She has fantastic parents too. How can a person be that loved?”

  Elan pursed his lips and shrugged.

  “You heard me, right?” She raised an eyebrow. “She has a boyfriend. You are not him.”

  He bowed his head, then nodded.

  She must have felt bad for him because she laid her hand on his shoulder. He was getting used to that—it was her habit. “It’s okay. You’ll find someone else.”

  Was
she actually comforting him? After what he did to her?

  He looked at her and thought, I really liked this girl. Regret hit him right then and there, and he felt the pain sink in.

  “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way,” Caty started, “but I hope I never see you again.”

  Elan met her eyes, mouth agape. How do I respond to that?

  She smiled and said, “It’s for your sanity.”

  He didn’t get it, but he simply nodded. He’d missed it. He had mighty fucking missed this one.

  “But if I see you elsewhere, I’ll say hi.” Caty lifted her hand to pinch his chin. “Promise me you’ll be happy to see me too?”

  He sighed, nodding his head slowly.

  “So much for living up to your name, Elan.”

  “I’ll change it to something else,” he retorted.

  “Judy?”

  He laughed, his hand finally touching hers. He felt the electricity that shot up between them. He mentally kicked himself in the ass for being such a disappointment.

  “I didn’t do a web check-in, so I’ll . . .” She jerked her hand away and pointed toward the entrance.

  “Right.”

  “All right.” Caty took a deep breath. “Guess this is it.”

  Elan lifted his arm to wave. “Have a good flight.”

  She was lingering, and so was he. They had been saying goodbye to each other for half a day, and it still felt too soon to say it. Caty took a tiny step toward him.

  “For what it’s worth, you were great at making out.”

  He tried to repress a smile.

  “Gee, thanks, Caty,” she mimicked him. “You were great too.”

  Elan felt a tug inside his chest, and he smiled. The way she was looking at him now was making it even harder for him to say anything.

  So he said nothing and dipped his head down to kiss her instead. He wasn’t too polite about it either, cupping her face with his hands and taking her lips fully.

  Why had they stopped kissing in the first place? His fault. Right. He started to pull away, but he felt her fingers run up his chest, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and reeling him back in.

  They broke away grinning, his forehead brushing hers.

  “Now, that’s how you do it my way.” Her hand rested on his nape, and she kissed his neck softly, a heated graze that made him feel warm inside.

  His back hit the side mirror of the car and it hurt, but he didn’t care. Nothing could distract him now.

  “Sorry,” he groaned. “I can’t let you leave thinking that I didn’t—”

  Caty patted his chest as she pulled away. “Checking in.”

  “You don’t have any luggage.”

  “Right.” She tiptoed and met his mouth again, tongues sliding back and hands roaming the skin underneath clothes. “God, I’m supposed to hate you.”

  “Oh, got you covered. Been hating myself too.”

  Caty kissed him one more time, two, maybe three, before completely stepping back on her heels. She cleared her throat. “Okay, that’s . . . see? I’m good at that too. We made quite a show for those nosy old ladies.”

  She pointed to their direction and waved them off. He felt his cheeks warm.

  “Don’t say anything more.” Caty took another step back. “Let’s leave it at that, okay?”

  He knew what she meant. They should leave it while it was still good, before they ruined it. So he agreed. He took another look at her, as if to take a mental picture. Despite the dark rim under her eyes from staying up that night and her creased clothes, she looked quite resplendent.

  Elan shrugged, with a smile to match hers.

  “Classic Elan,” Caty teased, as if they knew enough about each other to have inside jokes. She finally turned after a quick wave.

  As he leaned back on his car, his smile spread into a silly grin, and all Elan could do was watch her leave.

  part

  We can all begin freely—a slight preference is natural enough; but there are very few of us who have heart enough to be really in love without encouragement.

  jane austen

  five

  nine months later

  It could be worse. For one thing, she could be wearing the wrong dress, but she wasn’t. She looked gorgeous in this dress. And why shouldn’t she? Caty had lined up for a warehouse sale to get it. She’d elbowed women out of the way to have it.

  When her roommate Lucian asked her why she’d bought such a ridiculously embellished gold gown, she told him she was saving it for a special occasion. She tried it on and showed him, and he said she looked like a trophy.

  Good, Caty thought. She wanted to look like a trophy. She wanted to look like gold. She wanted to be first prize. Not second, not third; she wanted to be first.

  So she carried the gold gown home, kept it in the bag, stored it carefully, and didn’t wear it again until this night.

  When she walked out of her room and met her brother, Kip, he gave her a look and said, “You know this isn’t your party, right?”

  Caty smirked. “Shut up, Crispin.”

  He shuddered hearing his real name. “I mean, you look great.”

  She did. The gown’s top was embellished with gold appliques and sequins, held together by thin spaghetti straps. The dress cascaded into pure tulle and flowed as she moved, exposing a good portion of her leg every time she put her right foot forward. The back was scooped way down, almost to her waist.

  She kept her hair down in a messy wave, and it fell below her shoulders, framing her face well. She’d grown out her bangs and dyed her hair red. It worked well with her skin tone, brown-red lips, and, of course, the gold gown.

  “I know,” she just answered. “But you should really save your compliments for your girlfriend.”

  Caty walked ahead of him, knowing he was only waiting outside the room for Juliana, who just stepped out. She was wearing a red sheath dress with a halter neckline and a slit just a couple of inches above her knee—simpler and more modest than what Caty wore, but she looked so good in red that even Caty whistled when she came into view.

  It was the Coronados’ thirtieth wedding anniversary, and Juliana’s parents had decided to renew their vows that afternoon. This evening, the family was having dinner and drinks with the rest of the town—including the mayor and his wife, the bored trophy wives of the Tourism Club, and their sons and daughters. There was a club for events like this, and the party was called a “ball.” For such a small town, people did like to make something big out of things like thirty years of marriage, a new fountain on the plaza, the fiesta, or someone’s eighteenth birthday.

  Caty was here with her mother for the occasion and also to get her fix of sunshine. It was pretty cold in Toronto, and like a bird, she needed to leave to survive.

  Since they got the invitation for the wedding anniversary two months ago, her brother, Kip, had been pestering them to attend. He’d decided to stay in the Philippines so he could take over the company their father started with Juliana’s dad—and be in the same country as his girlfriend. Caty knew she had to show up. For moral support, she figured.

  It had only been nine months since Caty was last in San Juan. She thought about her last day and quickly winced, glancing at her brother and Juliana’s public display of affection instead. Seeing him kiss Juliana’s wrist as she reached out to caress his face was way better than recalling how humiliating that last day in the Philippines had been.

  She really was hoping she’d have better luck this time.

  She wondered how it could work here, dating in a small town. Caty was certain everyone had been talking about Juliana and Kip since they first started showing up in places together. She shuddered as she imagined how people would have speculated. It was the town’s hobby. Some people liked to call it “caring for the community,” but she’d n
ever been a fan of it. Especially when she’d been a target not so long ago.

  That’s why she could never live here again. She couldn’t deal with people nosing around.

  Caty cleared her throat, and Juliana turned to her. “I can go first, if you guys need more time?”

  Juliana answered, “No, we’re good. Let’s go.”

  Kip and Juliana’s hands interlaced as if it was automatic, and they walked toward her.

  “Great.” Caty smiled, turning around before she sighed. They started down the stairs to the party.

  Caty hoped she’d have more time to enjoy the night, but looking around the whole room, she already knew it would be hard.

  Good thing she had her gold dress on. She had seen it in a magazine and knew she had to have it. Some girls might picture their wedding dresses, but Caty pictured the dress she’d wear when she finally got her revenge.

  That’s what the gold dress was for.

  That’s what tonight was about.

  That’s why she thought it wouldn’t be so bad to come home again after all.

  Had he been transformed or what? Elan had driven the roads to San Juan so many times in the last nine months that he could probably close his eyes and get there—not that he ever would.

  The first time, he had to get his car. The second time, he had to take something back to Juliana. At first, Kip wasn’t happy that he kept coming back, but they got to talking and began this weird friendship. He kept coming back because despite being a city boy, he had discovered the town’s charm. The little quirks, the easiness of the lifestyle, the fresh air.

  Of course, there was that girl he was waiting to see. He knew Caty wouldn’t come back just yet, but he kept hearing her name in conversations. Sometimes she was mentioned several times, sometimes never at all. Whenever he heard it, he tried not to appear too interested. He’d look down, rub a hand across his jaw, and ask polite follow-up questions.

  What he found out about her during these fleeting conversations was that she used to be in love with another man, she liked to dance, she had a car accident with Juliana when they were sixteen that eventually made her move to Toronto, and, finally, the most important information: she was coming home for the Coronados’ wedding anniversary.