Incubus Dreams - Laurell K. Hamilton [27]
“Sure,” Jason and I said in unison.
Louie smiled. “I just need one ride, but thanks.” His eyes, which were truly black, not just darkest brown like mine, didn’t match the smile. The eyes were still angry.
“His place is on the way to the Circus,” Jason said.
I nodded. “Okay.” I looked at Louie and wanted to ask what the fight had been about, and didn’t want to ask what the fight had been about. I settled for, “Are you okay?”
He shook his head. “Ronnie will probably call you tomorrow and tell you anyway. I guess you might as well know, or maybe you can talk some sense into her.”
I gave a half-shrug. “I don’t know. Ronnie can be pretty stubborn.”
Jason laughed. “You calling someone else stubborn, that’s rich.”
I frowned at him. “You sure you don’t want to ride home with us, instead of Mr. Comedy here?”
He shook his head. “I’m on Jason’s way home.” He still hadn’t told us what the fight was about. Was I supposed to remind him, or let it go?
“Do you want some privacy here?” Jason asked.
Louie sighed. “Yes, if you don’t mind.”
“I’ll say good night to Micah and Nathaniel, and I’ll be waiting by my car.” He waved at me and walked away.
For the second, no, the third time that night I was standing out in the cool shadows of the trees getting a heart-to-heart talk with another man. This one wasn’t even my boyfriend or occasional food.
“What’s wrong, Louie?”
“I asked Ronnie to marry me tonight.”
I’d been prepared for a lot of things, but that hadn’t even ocurred to me. Marriage? I just gaped at him. When I could close my mouth and pretend to be intelligent, I said, “And why the fight, then?”
“She said, no.” He didn’t look at me as he said it. He stared off into the dark, his hands plunged into the pockets of his dress slacks, ruining the line of his jacket, but giving him something to do with his hands.
“She said, no,” I repeated it, as if I hadn’t heard it right.
He glanced at me then. “You sound surprised.”
“Well, last I knew you guys were getting along really well.” Actually, the last time Ronnie had confided in me it had been a conversation that had set us both giggling, because it had been mostly about sex. We’d both overshared, which women do more than men, and the sex had been as good between her and Louie as it had been between me and Micah. Which was pretty damned good. Ronnie had had this mistaken idea that dating Micah meant I’d dumped Jean-Claude. When she found out it didn’t mean that, she’d not taken it well. She just couldn’t seem to cope with me dating the undead. Picky, picky. I could joke, but her last stand on Jean-Claude had been adamant enough that we hadn’t talked much since.
“It’s all wonderful, Anita. That’s what is so . . .” he seemed to search for a word, and settled for, “frustrating!”
“So, you guys are getting along great?” I made it a question.
“I thought so, maybe I was wrong?” He paced two steps away from me, then back. “No, damn it, I wasn’t wrong. It’s been the best two years of my life. Nothing starts my day off better than waking up beside her. I want to start every day like that. Is that so wrong?”
“No, Louie, that’s not wrong.”
“Then why did we just have the biggest fight we’ve ever had?” His dark face was demanding, as if I had the answer and just wouldn’t give it to him.
“I’ll call Ronnie tomorrow, if she doesn’t call me first. I’ll talk to her.”
“She says she doesn’t want to marry anyone. She says, if she married anyone, it would be me, but she doesn’t want to. She doesn’t want to.” The pain in his voice was so raw, it hurt to hear it.
“I am so sorry.” I started to touch his arm, thought better of it, and said, “Maybe you could just live together?”
“I offered that. I offered to just live together until she was ready for more.” He was staring off into the darkness, again, as if he didn’t want me to see what was in his eyes.