Free Desperate Measures by Fern Michaels Page A

friend like you. I hope ... I mean, if we’d gotten involved, two months from now we’d wave good-bye to one another and send Christmas cards for a few years and then we’d forget each other. I don’t want that. I care about you too much. Sometimes I actually feel like you’re a part of me,” Annie said carefully, her eyes averted.
    â€œYeah, yeah, I feel that way too. So why—”
    â€œWe needed to get to this place. Now, when we walk away two months from now, if it’s meant to be, it will be. I don’t know how else to explain it. Are you following me here?”
    Pete nodded. “Annie, did I ever tell you about Barney?”
    â€œNo. Are you telling me there’s something about you I don’t know? Who’s Barney?”
    Pete told her. “I believed, right up to the day I turned sixteen, that Barney was going to come for me. I honest to God believed it. There are no words to tell you how I felt when midnight passed and Barney was a no-show. In my gut I still hope . . . want . . .”
    â€œOh, Pete, how awful for you. Children have a way of ... I’m sure Barney meant every word he said, and if circumstances were right he would have kept his promise. You don’t know for a fact that he never tried to find you. Did you really tell that man to kiss your ass? At six years old?”
    â€œDamn right I did. With gusto. I was sticking up for Barney. I still think about Barney. Someday I’m going to try and find him. I need to know if he tried to find me. It’s like there’s a piece of my life that’s missing. If that sounds stupid . . .”
    â€œIt doesn’t sound stupid at all. Memories are so wonderful. Especially yours. I had such an ... ordinary childhood. Nothing ever happened. Actually, it was downright boring. I was this terrible-looking ugly duckling. None of the girls wanted to be seen with me. I guess that’s why I’m such a reader. It was all I did.”
    â€œAnd look at you now!” Pete said proudly.
    Annie reached across the table to take Pete’s hand in hers. “Promise me, Pete, that we’ll always be friends. Promise me that we won’t go that Christmas-card route. I’ll always be here for you. I swear on ... on Barney.”
    Pete nodded. “I swear too ... on Barney.”
    â€œSince we’re, ah ... sharing,” he continued, “was that sappy expression on your face when you came in anything to do with you getting laid last night?”
    â€œPete!” Annie hissed.
    â€œWell, does it?”
    â€œNone of your damn business.”
    â€œI thought we were each other’s business. I want an answer.”
    â€œUp yours, Pete,” Annie said, clearly flustered.
    â€œAnd I thought you were saving yourself for me.” He realized he meant the words the moment he uttered them. Annie looked like she realized it too.
    â€œYou aren’t exactly a monk, Pete. I seem to recall some of your ... escapades, the ones you felt the need to share with me. Look at me, Pete Sorenson. Are you judging me?”
    â€œHell no. Ah, Annie ... I’ve had this fantasy for so long about us ... and how it would be.”
    â€œFantasy?”
    Pete’s head jerked upward. He’d never heard her voice sound so cold and brittle. “Well, yeah. Fantasy is as good a word as any. You made it clear you wouldn’t ... you didn’t . . . What the hell is happening here, Annie?”
    Annie was on her feet, the blue dress fussing about her knees as she gathered up her books. Her eyes spewed sparks. “Fuck you, Pete Sorenson,” she snarled.
    â€œAnnie, wait. Jesus Christ, I didn’t mean that the way you took it. Annie, wait. Goddamn it, I try to do what you want and you kick me in the gut.”
    Pete followed her outside, Annie’s shoes slapping on the concrete as she tried to run from him. “I was out of line,” he said. “I’m sorry.