Free Hometown Girl by Robin Kaye Page A

it?”
    “No. I didn’t even know where you worked. I was just as surprised to see you as you were to see me. The only difference was that I remembered you.”
    “Oh come on, Elyse. You and Mel have been best friends since kindergarten. You’ve always been inseparable. Do you really expect me to believe she never told you where I worked?”
    “You actually think I’d trick you into going to bed with me?”
    “Didn’t you?”
    “I gave you ample opportunity to ask me who I was. You never did. How is that my fault?”
    “I was trying to be nice, trying not to hurt your feelings. I guess the joke’s on me, huh? I bet you and Mel had a great time chatting about it. You just couldn’t wait to tell her, could you? Good one, Trouble. I didn’t suspect a fucking thing.”
    “I didn’t tell Mel anything. How could I? How could I tell my best friend I just slept with her brother—a man I’ve known my whole life—and he didn’t even remember me?”
    “You were always like a little pesky sister to me.”
    “Don’t even go there. I am not, nor have I ever been, like a sister to you. Believe me, I’ve never confused you for my brother. I’ve felt a lot of things for you, Simon. Sisterly was not one of them.”
    He held his hands against his head to keep it from exploding. “I can’t believe I slept with my sister’s best friend. Congratulations, Trouble. You certainly got me good this time. I’m sure you and Mel will have a good laugh, huh? It’s one for the record books.”
    That was an understatement. She’d played him—played him right into his bed. Oh, God, the things he’d done with her, to her, and still wanted to do. He was so fucked. She’d probably go straight to Mel and, as usual, tell all. He took the chair and flung it across the loft. “I think you should leave.”
    Elyse shifted then hugged herself—she looked pale and brittle and walked past him like an octogenarian, looking anywhere but at him. She grabbed her purse and beelined it down the stairs.
    Simon went to the window and stared out over the bay. He heard the door slam and watched her run to the end of the pier before doubling over. It took every ounce of self-control he had not to go after her. He’d stepped back from the window and was about to lose the battle when she straightened, and hurried the rest of the way to the ferry. He watched her as she stood in line with her arms wrapped around herself. He watched her board. And he watched her float out of his life, taking his heart with her.
    * * *
    Elyse ran until she made it to the end of the pier and doubled over in agony. The stitch in her side was nothing compared to the pain of what felt like a knife piercing her heart. God, she’d been such a fool. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. A lot of good her lifetime membership to the National Honor Society did her—she was an interpersonal relationship failure.
    She forced herself to slow her breathing—hyperventilating and passing out was the only thing that could make this disastrous situation worse.
    Elyse gathered the rest of her strength, waited until the gray spots dancing before her eyes disappeared, straightened, and then limped, dry-eyed, to the ferry.
    Her trip home was a blur. She took the ferry to Wall Street, the #2 train to the A-Train, then spent an interminable amount of time slogging her way through what seemed like an endless number of stops uptown to 181st Street.
    It took her total concentration to keep from breaking down in tears every time she remembered the horror in Simon’s eyes when he recognized her. That moment ran on a continuous loop through her mind, and she didn’t know how to make it stop.
    She knew it would end badly.
    She knew she’d be hurt.
    But she never guessed how devastating it would be—to her, to him.
    She hadn’t known she’d hurt Simon. She never meant to hurt him; she never thought it was possible. If she had known, she’d never have made love to him.
    She climbed out of the subway and