Read Online The Light Between Us by Beth Morey - Free Book Online Page A

he'd be alternately tapping at and ignoring since she'd arrived at the coffee shop.  “What are you doing here tonight?”
     
    Sam crooked his eyebrows at her.  “I'm writing.  Or,” he wrinkled his nose, “trying to.  Poetry.  And tonight's not going so well.  I've been very distracted by this very lovely writer woman, you see.”
     
    “ Well,” she said, cocking an eyebrow right back, “you know it's not publication that makes you any more of a writer than you are right now, right here.”
     
    He nodded, grinning.  “Sage advice.”
     
    “ And,” she said, shoving all caution away, suddenly emboldened by heartache, “as for the distraction . . . sometimes I find that you can't get past writing distractions until you indulge a little, get it out of your system.”
     
    “ Hm,” said Sam, tugging at his blonde tendrils, “so you're saying I should, ah, indulge in this woman?”
     
    “ I think,” she said, closing her laptop and sweeping the pens and notebook off the table and into her bag, “you should invite her out for a drink, or maybe let her take you back to her place.”  She shrugged her arms into her coat, feeling deliciously shocked at herself and thinking it strange that she didn't feel more nervous.               
     
    “ Okay,” he said, nodding and smiling even wider.  “So, will you do me the honor of joining me for a little fun tonight, Ruth the writer?”             
     
    She smiled, nervous but strangely sure.  “I thought you'd never ask, Sam the poet.”
     
    Tugging his computer's power cable from the wall, he wound up the cord and clicked the laptop shut, stowing both into a green messenger bag that had been slung over the back of his chair.  He stood and offered his arm. 
     
    “ Shall we?” he said, gesturing toward the door.
     
    Ruth stood and took his arm, sliding her phone into her coat pocket with her other hand, her heart hammering.  Had she really just picked up a guy for – what?  Drinks?  A night together?  She swallowed hard.  She didn't know what she was doing, and didn't care that she didn't know. 
     
    As they left the coffee shop, Ruth felt her phone buzz again from her pocket.  She shoved her hand in and set the ringer to silent. 
     
    * * *
     
    Derek glared at his phone, not sure whether he wanted to curse it, plead with it, or hurl it against the brick wall he was leaning against.  He'd been pacing the streetlamp lit streets of Cambridge since he'd left Ridger and Sandra, the phone pressed to his ear as he dialed Ruth's number, the only answer coming from her voicemail.  He didn't want to think about how many times he had called her. 
     
    That fucking Sandra.  He should have known better than to leave his phone laying about with her nearby.  But he hadn't wanted to miss it if Ruth decided to call him, so he'd set it on their table and then forgotten when he went to order a round of drinks. 
     
    Damn.  Fucking damn. 
     
    He didn't even know Ruth's address.  Would that be considered stalking, showing up at her place unannounced at night?  Was calling her again and again stalking?  Derek cringed. 
     
    The navy black of the sky unfurled beyond the glare of the streetlights and the passing traffic that still flowed, although it had slowed from its daytime rigor.  He leaned his head back against the rough mortar that reached out from between the rust-colored bricks, sighing deeply as he squinted through the city brightness at the eternity that lay beyond the hum of life and scent of exhaust.  
     
    “ Please,” he whispered into the chill of the night.  “Please.”  He wasn't sure exactly what he was asking for.  Another chance with Ruth, at least.  The opportunity to explain, to clear the misunderstanding and hurt that she surely must have choked on when Sandra answered her call. 
     
    The click-click-click of high heels wafted toward him.  He turned to the sound, and felt his mouth hang