Feels So Right

“I don’t know about that.” She felt herself blushing and was very glad Wesley wasn’t in the room. Something about Colin …

“Did he say why he was coming back?”

“Just that he was in pain and needed to see me. Must have been bad. He sounded as if he were talking through his teeth.”

“Furious he had to crawl back to you.”

“Could be.” She immediately had to banish an image of Colin, shirtless, on his knees … “I can’t talk long, got a Come to Your Senses meeting in a few. Just wanted to let you gloat.”

“I’m gloating, I’m gloating. When do I get my drink at Joe Bar?”

“Whenever you want it.” Like all introverts, she was protective of her alone time, but she always made the effort to see Wesley, a former marathoner. His running career had ended with a car accident—much worse than Colin’s fall from his bike—and head injury that ensured he’d never run again, though he credited Demi with helping him relearn how to walk. For a brief time, maybe two weeks after his therapy ended, they’d tried dating, but it had never felt right and they’d happily gone back to being friends.

“What’s tomorrow, Tuesday?” he asked. “I have a date. How about Wednesday?”

“Wednesday’s fine. You seeing Cathy again?”

“Yup. See if she can fall in love with a guy who shuffles instead of walks.”

Demi grimaced in sympathy. Wesley had been remarkably free of self-pity during his recovery, but it must be agony as a former athlete to walk as if he’d just learned how. Which he had in a way. “If she can’t handle a good shuffle, she doesn’t deserve you.”

“You’re a good person, Demi. Remind me why we’re not dating?”

“I think it was the lack of desperate need to jump each other.”

“Oh, right. That. We’re not quite old enough to settle for peaceful companionship, huh.”

Demi snorted. “I’m never going to be that old.”

Wesley burst out laughing. “That’s my sex fiend. Okay, go meet with your business partners. And don’t let that Bonnie woman get to you.”

“I promise.” Demi grinned. Wesley was always watching out for her. Whoever he landed would be one lucky woman. She hoped Cathy had brains enough to see that. “Bonnie isn’t terrible, she just doesn’t know what to make of me. The woman is totally out there, and I’m totally in here.”

“No excuse. She gives you any more trouble, let me know.”

“See you Wednesday.” She disconnected the call, put aside her knitting—a short-sleeved cotton sweater in an easy zigzag pattern for spring—and went in search of her shoes, which she found in her room, one on the floor, one on the bed where she’d kicked them off.

Ready. Sighing, she exited her second-floor apartment and headed down the hall. Bonnie had painted the walls with twining rose vines and, for Jack and Seth, who’d been disgusted by the girlie touch, a line of tanks along the baseboard. At the end of the hall was the apartment the five of them shared as a common area, though Demi didn’t spend much time there.

Jack, Seth, Angela and Bonnie had been four of the original five University of Washington alumni who bought and renovated the building, naming it Come to Your Senses when they realized their five businesses represented the five senses. On the first floor was Angela’s bakery, A Taste for All Pleasures. Across from that, Bonnie’s flower shop, Bonnie Blooms, smelling wonderful. Farther down the hall, Jack Shea represented sight with his photography studio, and Demi’s physical-therapy practice was all about touch. She’d bought the space from Caroline, one of the original five investors, who’d moved out of town to get married. Upstairs, Seth Blackstone—representing sound—lived and composed music in the largest of the apartments.

The other four residents were already seated in the spacious living room, drinking soda and/or beer from the refrigerator they all chipped in to keep stocked. Likewise they’d each donated old or unwanted chairs and tables to furnish the place. Feeling out of place and nervous as she always did around her building-mates, Demi grabbed a Sprite from the refrigerator and plunked down on the room’s newest and ugliest piece, a black-and-white, futuristic leather love seat she’d gotten from one of her sister Carrie’s I’m-bored-with-my-furniture remodeling fits.

Seth, Jack, Angela and Bonnie had been close friends for six years; they shared a boatload of history, in-jokes, stories—it was hard not to feel like an intruder. Given that Demi’s shyness made her feel like an intruder in pretty much every social situation anyway, this one was particularly difficult. Angela had been sweet to her, as had Jack and occasionally Seth. Bonnie would be the toughest to melt, but Demi hadn’t given up yet.

“Hey, Demi, how’s it going?”

“Fine.” She nodded stiffly at Angela; the chestnut-haired beauty was sitting on the beaten-up rocker in the corner of the room. The question always made Demi feel she should come up with thrilling new daily developments. The truth was, her life was pretty simple and pretty fulfilling—except in the romance department. It just didn’t make good press.

Jack grinned at her from his signature overstuffed wreck of a chair. He’d always been friendly, but was much more relaxed and outgoing since he met and fell in love with a woman named Melissa. He’d been photographing her without her knowledge at Cal Anderson Park for weeks before she walked into his shop, saw pictures of herself and freaked out. Happily, he’d quickly gained her trust and eventually her heart. “How’s things in the physical-therapy world?”

“Okay. Thanks.” She felt herself blushing, hating the stilted way she spoke, hating the awkwardness that had risen inside her since she was a child, which made the easy banter others took for granted so impossible for her. Once she was comfortable with people, once she trusted them, she was fine. But with Bonnie all but rolling her eyes at Demi’s presence in the room, she couldn’t unbend enough to sound like a normal person. Which of course made Bonnie’s scorn worse. “People keep getting hurt. Keep needing me.”

“Have you seen that gorgeous guy again?” Angela was all ears. “If he’s been around lately I’ve missed him.”

“Colin?” Demi felt a funny jolt of adrenaline. How weird that Angela would bring him up today. “I’m seeing him at noon tomorrow.”

“Ooh!” Angela waggled her eyebrows. “Bonnie, we’re going to have to line up in the hallway and watch this one go by.”

“I have to take a rain check.” Bonnie shook her head regretfully, glancing at Seth, who sat next to her on the old green couch. “I have a lunch date tomorrow.”

“Yeah? What’s this one? Garbage man? Prison guard?” Seth tried to look casually interested, but was clearly wary, or at least it seemed that way to Demi. Seth and Bonnie—some romantic history there, Demi was sure of it. Sparks and intimacy flew between them, and whenever they were together they were either fighting or laughing, never indifferent. But with Bonnie signed up on Seattledates.com, they must be on the outs.

“His name is Don.” Bonnie lifted her chin, smoothing folds of her bright, outrageously patterned top. “He’s a lawyer.”

“A lawyer.” Jack rolled his eyes. “That’ll be fascinating conversation.”

“Maybe he’ll show you his briefs,” Seth added.

“Oh, that is just the most clever line I’ve ever heard a million times.” Bonnie sighed.

“Yeah, it was lame.” Seth hoisted himself off the couch, stretching his over-six-foot lean frame. “I must need another beer. You want anything, Bon?”

“No. Thanks, Seth.” Bonnie glanced tenderly at his back; she was clearly capable of deep loyalty and affection—just not for Demi.

“Good luck, Bonnie,” Jack said. “You certainly deserve a normal experience.”

“No kidding.” She rolled her green eyes. “It’s been one disaster after another.”

A snort from Seth, who was at the refrigerator. “Anyone else need anything?”

“No, thanks.” Angela opened a folder on her lap. “But I have an idea I want to share with you guys. Actually Melissa got me thinking about it.”

“Uh-oh.” Jack’s dark eyes turned warm. He was totally hot anyway, and looked even hotter when he thought about Melissa. Demi wouldn’t mind some guy turning liquid on her behalf. She’d had one long-term boyfriend in college, one a few years after, then some casual dating but nothing for a while. At twenty-eight, she was starting to wonder about settling down, having babies, the whole deal. Too bad she couldn’t just snap her fingers and find the perfect mate. That’s what her older brother and sister had done, once again demonstrating their ability to sail effortlessly through life. She had no idea how they did it. Everything she accomplished seemed to require superhuman effort.

“Last summer Melissa had that idea about making Come to Your Senses a one-stop bridal-pampering place, remember?”

“I loved the idea.” Bonnie nodded enthusiastically. “Flowers from me, cake or pastry from Angela, a portrait by Jack and music from Seth, our very own YouTube sensation.”

And …? Demi sat silent, not able to tell if the omission was deliberate, unsure whether pointing it out would make things better or worse.

“And a massage from Demi,” Angela prompted gently.

“Right.” Bonnie thwacked her forehead. “Sorry, Demi. I forgot you.”

“’S’okay.” Demi kept her eyes down. The closest she and Bonnie had gotten to friendliness was when Angela and Bonnie bumped into her on their way to go dancing one evening last summer and had dragged her along. It had been one of the most fun nights Demi’d had in a while. She loved to dance. That night alcohol and circumstances had made Bonnie actually pleasant, a start Demi had hoped they could build on afterward.

Not so much.