The confession is out there. The truth, baldly stated and hanging between us like the crackling chemistry that’s been on low boil since we first laid eyes on each other.
Yet his expression remains stoic. No flicker in his beautiful blue gaze, nothing. No I miss you too.
My smile falls and I know he sees it. He takes a few steps closer, definitely within touching distance, more like in kissing distance, and he reaches out. Settles one of those big, magical hands on my shoulder, gives it a light squeeze.
“Take care,” he murmurs.
And then he’s gone.
Cade keeps up the nonstop chatter the entire drive back to my place. He tried his best to play it cool when we were in the suite, but the moment we got in his car, he was practically bursting with the need to talk about his experience.
“I can’t believe you know those guys,” he says again and again with a shake of his head. “That you actually went to school with them.”
I don’t have the heart to tell him what dicks Cannon and Jordan used to be. Maybe they still are, I don’t know. But during our senior year, both those boys treated me fairly, like we were actual friends. Cannon because he respected me, and Jordan because, well…
He was in love with me.
And I was deeply in love with him. Seeing Jordan tonight, talking to him, those fleeting moments when his gaze was on me, or when he actually touched me, all those feelings came rushing back, flooding me with emotion. To the point where all I can do is sit here and think about him and wonder…
Am I still in love with him?
It’s not possible. Too much time has passed, too many things have happened. We could never get back what we had. I destroyed that chance by breaking up with him.
At least he was civil toward me.
I’m so wrapped up in my own thoughts I don’t realize we’re back at my apartment complex until Cade pulls into the tiny parking lot. He cuts the engine and watches me, an expectant look on his face. Like he might want to kiss me or something.
That is the absolute last thing I want to do, what with Jordan Tuttle still lingering in my head.
“Thanks again for taking me tonight.” Cade’s smile is bright in the otherwise mostly dark interior of his car. “I had a lot of fun.”
“Thanks for going with me.”
“We should do it again sometime. Go to another game.”
“Um, sure.” I don’t want to go on another date with Cade. He’s a great guy, I just don’t feel…anything for him beyond friendship.
“Or dinner again. I found a great Thai place I think you might like.” His smile grows, and dread fills me. I don’t want to dump him tonight. I just made him go to that game with me so I could have someone to lean on. I used him for support, so that probably makes me an awful person.
At this moment, I definitely feel like an awful person.
“Sounds good,” I tell him weakly. “Good night.” I reach for the door handle, ready to bust out like I’m making a prison escape, but he stops me, his hand going to my shoulder, his grip firm. I turn to look at him, not saying a word, and he leans in. His eyes start to close…
I avert my head at the last minute, his lips grazing my cheek.
He pulls away, disappointment flashing in his gaze, and I refuse to feel bad, yet I do. I’d rather be friends with him. It’s all stupid Jordan’s fault for coming back into my life at the worst time.
“See you tomorrow,” I say, pushing the passenger side door open and making my escape. I bend down to wave at him through the window once I shut the door and he waves at me in return, starting the engine and backing out of the space so quick, he’s gone in what feels like less than a minute.
I hustle back to my apartment, hating how late it is, and how quiet. I can hear the distant thundering of cars on the freeway, a dog barking at one of the houses across the street, and I let go a big sigh of relief when I’m actually in my tiny place with the door firmly locked. It’s not that my neighborhood is unsafe, it’s just…being alone late at night is a little scary.
My evening routine is starting later than usual, but I keep to it. I take a shower and wash my hair. Slip into an old T-shirt—from high school, what a surprise—and then blow-dry my hair. Climb into bed with my phone, shocked to see I have a text message from that number I haven’t put a name to yet.
It’s Jordan’s number. And he’s left me numerous messages.
It was good seeing you tonight.
Sorry we didn’t talk much.