Hold Me Close Read online

  “I got rear-ended. I came up too hard at a red light. I’m fine. Damage to the bumper, but that’s it.” Effie clicked off the television, cradling the phone against her shoulder.

  “Shit. Why didn’t you call me?”

  “For what?” she said. “Would you have come over and made me tea?”

  “Maybe.”

  Effie laughed without humor. “Sure you would’ve. You’re a regular fucking Mary Poppins.”

  Silence. Bill sighed. Effie pressed her lips together, closing her eyes, thinking of the way that door had opened.

  Who are you?

  “You could come over, if you want to.” She kept her voice light. “My mom took the kid. She won’t be home until tomorrow. We could watch a movie. Order pizza.”

  He wouldn’t agree to it, of course. This was Bill on the line. All at once, though, Effie could think of nothing but having him there next to her. Having someone. Anyone.

  “Never mind,” she whispered, already steeling herself for the refusal.

  “I’ll be over in half an hour.”

  He was there in forty minutes, two frozen pizzas in one hand and a paper sack with a bottle of Bushmills in the other. “This won’t fuck with your meds or anything, will it?”

  “I’m only on ibuprofen. And I could use a drink.” Effie still wore a pair of yoga pants and a slim-fitted T-shirt with a hoodie sweatshirt. She’d brushed her teeth, but not her hair. Looking at Bill now, she thought maybe she should’ve put on some mascara, some eyeliner, something. She’d been less than glamorous in front of Bill many times before, but somehow she was now made shy by the way he stood in her front room.

  In her kitchen, she sat at the table while Bill preheated the oven and slid the pizzas onto two stoneware pans. He cracked open the bottle and poured them both a glass.

  “Oh, the ice maker doesn’t work,” Effie said when he tried to get some through the fridge door. “You have to get it from inside.”

  Heath would’ve known that already, she thought and shoved it immediately away. Heath was not here. But Bill was.

  He handed her a glass rattling with cubes and brimming with whiskey. “Here. Sip it. Don’t gulp. Pizza will be ready soon. You need to eat something, and I don’t want any bullshit about it.”

  Effie managed a small nod. “Thanks.”

  Bill took the chair across from hers. He held his glass in two hands, spinning it before taking a drink. The whiskey made him grimace, but he drank again almost at once before setting the glass on the table. He looked around the kitchen.

  “Nice place.”

  “Thanks,” Effie repeated. There didn’t seem much else to say.

  Fortunately, she didn’t have to think of anything. Bill took over the conversation, regaling her with stories about his job and the wacky things he’d had to deal with in the past couple of weeks. He kept them light. Funny. She appreciated the effort he was making.

  After the pizza, Effie took Bill into the den to pick out a movie on streaming. When he put his arm around her shoulders, Effie stiffened for a second or two before relaxing into his embrace. Bill looked at her.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. I just...” Her shrug sent a soft wave of aching through her, despite the medicine and the booze.

  Bill took his arm away from her and put an inch or so of distance between them. “I get it. Your boyfriend might not approve.”

  “I’ve told you a million times. Heath isn’t—”

  “Not Heath. That other guy. The one with the glasses.” Bill frowned. “That guy.”

  “Oh.” Effie chewed the inside of her cheek for a moment. “I’m not seeing him anymore.”

  Bill put another inch between them. “Oh. I get it.”

  “Get what?” Effie frowned and wished she’d poured herself another glass of whiskey.

  Bill’s brow furrowed. “He dumped you, so good old Bill’s here instead.”

  “That’s a stupid thing to say, and you know it.”

  “Why’s that stupid? I know you’ve been dating him. That guy. Like he mattered, like he made a difference. Next thing I know, you’re inviting me over here. I should’ve figured it was because he dumped you.”

  “He didn’t dump me,” Effie snapped, defensive, because part of what Bill was saying was true. “We agreed not to see each other again. It wasn’t working out.”

  “No surprise there,” Bill muttered.

  Effie got off the couch to stand in front of him. “He wasn’t the kind of guy I could be with long-term, okay? I thought he was. I wanted him to be. But he wasn’t.”

  Bill sat forward to put his elbows on his knees. “So you come running back to me.”

  “My God,” Effie said, stunned. “You’re acting like you care.”

  Bill stood, forcing her to take a few steps back. “What makes you think I don’t?”

  They were quiet then. Effie crossed her arms over her chest. Bill went into the kitchen and brought back two more glasses of whiskey, but Effie didn’t want any now.

  The problem was, she had no idea what she wanted.

  “Do you?” she asked finally.

  “Of course I do.” Bill sat on the couch again. “Sit down.”

  She did, one knee tucked beneath her so she could turn and look at him. “I never know, with you.”

  He reached to push her hair off her face, then over her shoulder. He let his touch linger a moment or so on her cheek before dropping his hand. Bill shrugged.

  Effie closed her eyes for a second, thinking hard. Then she leaned to kiss him. Soft. Sweet. A brush of lips, the tentative hint of tongue. Bill pulled her onto his lap.

  Effie groaned, though not with pleasure. “Ouch.”

  Bill kissed her again, too hard. Effie turned her face just enough that his mouth skidded to the corner of hers. He pulled away.

  “You want me to leave?”

  “Did you just come over here to fuck me?” Effie asked.

  Bill’s eyebrows went up. “Why else would I come over?”

  “To take care of me. To make me tea. To make sure I was all right?” She tried to push off his lap, but she was too stiff and sore, and Bill grabbed her wrists to hold her still.

  “I brought you pizza and booze.” Bill smiled, charming. Sly. “Isn’t that better than tea? And making you come would be better than pizza. C’mon, Effie. Let me get my mouth on that sweet pussy. You’ll forget about everything else.”

  For an hour, she thought. Or less than that. She’d used him for that purpose in the past, but now the thought of him touching her turned her stomach. She pulled at her wrists to free herself from him and got off his lap.

  “I’m an asshole,” Effie said. “I thought maybe... Shit. I thought that just maybe...”

  “Ah, here we go again. You thought what? I’d be your hero?”

  Effie looked at him. “You’ve rescued me before.”

  Bill said nothing. He rubbed his mouth for a moment. Then he shook his head. No light in his eyes. No love in his voice. He got up and paced for a moment in front of her, then turned.

  “That first time I saw you in that bed, I was sure you were dead. You know that? You were so still, lying there in your own mess. Like some kind of fucked-up Sleeping Beauty. And I thought, there’s no way that girl’s alive. Or the kid, either, the one on the floor. I was sure I’d walked in on two corpses. And then you opened your eyes.”

  “We would’ve died, if not for you.” Effie swallowed bitterness. “A week without food, we could’ve gone longer, but four days without water? The drugs in our systems? We were both almost dead when you showed up.”

  “Sheila Monroe was the reason you didn’t die,” Bill said flatly. “If she hadn’t come to the house looking to score drugs from that creep Andrews and found you both, I