He glanced at the gift bag. Could he still salvage tonight? Maybe she’d like his presents enough to forgive him for ruining dinner. Then again, maybe not. They were dumb presents.
He heaved a resigned sigh. “Guess we should go.”
“Toff. Tell me what’s going on.” Amy met his eyes from across the table.
He hated how the fire had gone out of her after he’d gone silent. She’d been awesome, telling off Mack even after how crappy Toff had treated her. He should’ve high-fived her. Kissed her into oblivion even though they were in a fancy restaurant.
But he hadn’t done any of that. He was embarrassed he hadn’t stood up for himself, that he’d let Mack insult her. That he’d let that jerk get inside his head.
His spinning thoughts tortured him like hamsters on a wheel. What if he wasn’t 100 percent for the Spectacular and lost to this asshat? What if Dad was right and he wasn’t ready to go pro? What if…what if all this time with Amy… Hell. Did he even deserve her?
“Let’s go,” he said abruptly, sliding out of the booth and grabbing the gift bag. He doubted she’d want any presents from him, not after tonight. After a beat, Amy followed him.
He could feel himself losing control, a monster wave of frustration and confusion and anger cresting inside him, about to slam him underwater.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Amy hurried to catch up with Toff as he stalked to his van. She was frustrated, but mostly she was worried. She’d never seen him like this. It was like an alien pod person had taken over happy-go-lucky Toff.
She wished she could read his mind, since he wasn’t willing to tell her what was going on.
“Sorry about tonight.” He bit the words out like they cost him penalty points.
“At least the food was good,” she said. “Thanks for treating.”
Toff nodded and opened the sliding door, gesturing inside to the nest of pillows and blankets. “I’m too pissed off to drive,” he said, crawling into the van and leaning against the pillows. “I need to chill before we head back.”
“What do you mean by ‘chill’?”
“Nothing. Can’t we just hang out, Ames?” The look he gave her was mostly frustrated, but she spotted another emotion, too. One that made her crawl into the van next to him and take his hand in hers.
“I don’t want our night to end like this,” Toff said. “Maybe we can salvage what’s left before I have to take you home.”
A tiny flame of hope flickered in her chest. Maybe they could.
“I’d like that,” she said, angling her body to face his. “Will you tell me what’s going on with you? I mean, obviously that Mack guy was a jerk, but—”
He moved in close, wrapping his arms around her and swallowing her words with a kiss. It was another fast and furious kiss, shutting down her brain cells…but not for long. She couldn’t do this with him…not yet. She pushed against his chest, breaking the kiss.
“What’s wrong?” His arms were still wrapped around her, and he was looking at her like…the way he had that night in the hammock.
“Please tell me what’s going on with you. Why you shut down on me tonight.” She took a deep breath and went all in. “And why you shut me out before the party.”
“God, Amy.” He dropped his arms from her waist, leaning back against the pillows. “I don’t want to talk. I just want to…” He sighed, closing his eyes. “Can’t we just be with each other?”
Her heartbeat sped up, then slowed as her emotional roller-coaster ride of the past week came to a sudden stop, the answer to her own question crystal clear.
“What do you mean, ‘be with each other’?” She swallowed, pushing forward when his eyes flew open and locked on hers. “Do you mean…sex?”
“Yeah.” He rose up on his elbows, his gaze roving over her. “Let’s just…you know…dinner sucked, but at least we can end the night with a bang.”
Was he for real? With a bang?
Was that all sex was to him? She bit her lip. She knew the answer—he was the player, after all. Even though their night together had seemed to be a lot more than just fun, maybe it wasn’t. Not for him.
“You won’t talk to me, but you want me to hook up with you again.” She shook her head, frustration and sadness warring within her. “That’s not okay, Toff.”
He dug his hands into his hair and groaned in frustration, throwing his head back against the pillows. “Why do you have to make such a big deal—”
Something inside her snapped. “Because it is a big deal, Toff. To me, if not to you.” She scrambled back, feet tangling in the blankets. No more holding back on her feelings, her truth.
“Look, I never expected any type of relationship from you. I’m not an idiot.” She took a deep breath, shaking her head. “Except…I am an idiot.”
She held his gaze, a swirl of power and anxiety pulsing through her as she spoke. This wouldn’t be easy, but she had to say it.
“We’ve joked about our ship for weeks, right? Bonnie and Clyde. Ha-ha. The bookworm and the surfer. We’ve teased and flirted…and kissed…and more. But the truth is…” She did a yoga breath. In. Out. Strong.
If she couldn’t be honest, what was the point?
“The truth is, Toff, I’ve always liked you. As much more than a friend or a coach. And this summer, well…” She shrugged, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “This summer I fell for you, for real. Full stop.”
His lips parted, those pretty blue eyes wide and shocked.
“I don’t have any regrets about the time we’ve spent together.” She did another yoga breath. “Or the sex. That was great.” She was on a roll, an incredible one. “Except for the ghosting.”
He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but she kept going. She had to finish before this crazy swagger evaporated.
“I know you’re not a relationship guy. I’m not asking you for that. But I’ve figured out that I can’t do this hookup thing. It doesn’t work for me.” She took one last breath. “Especially with a guy I really…well…” She shrugged and smiled, an embarrassed but relieved smile. “I know it was never real to you, Toff. But for me…it’s never been fake.”
He was frozen, just like in the restaurant.
Amy scrambled across the floor of the van and jumped out, pulse pounding. She faced him, hands on her hips. She was a freaking rock star but she needed to get home, stat, and collapse on her bed.
“Until you figure out what I mean to you, I can’t see you anymore, Toff. Please drive me home.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
The next day, Amy and her mom drove to LA to spend time with her aunt and her cousins before the big Lucinda interview. The Lonely Hearts Book Club gave her a big send-off party, which had both hyped her up and distracted her from the whole Toff thing.
“Do you want to talk about what happened between you and Toff?” Mom asked as they idled in gridlocked traffic on the 405. The drive to LA from Shady Cove would take a couple of hours at least.
“No,” Amy said. “I want to focus on the contest and spending time with my cousins.”
“Fair enough,” Mom said. “Let me know if you change your mind.”
“I will.”
Not only had Mom watched the Redo in the Rockies interview with Toff, she’d checked out Amy’s social media, too. Now the whole family knew all about #BonnieandClyde, much to Amy’s horror.
Toff had driven her home in silence after dinner, sneaking so many looks at her, she was afraid he’d crash the van. She’d been shocked yet relieved he could go that long without saying a word. She hadn’t heard a peep from him since.
She was relieved…and crushed.
Amy stared out the window at the hazy sky. She hadn’t cried, though. Hadn’t fallen apart like a weepy heroine. Maybe she was still in shock from everything she’d said to him.
/> The best part about her speech to Toff was how even more ready she felt to interview Lucinda. Giving your unrequited crush that you’d fallen for—and hooked up with, and been ghosted by, and still, stubbornly, had all kinds of feelings for—a love-me-or-leave-me speech was empowering.
Mom honked at a muscle car that had forced its way into their lane. “We’ll start with mani-pedis with your cousins tomorrow.”
“Are you sure we can afford it?” They were staying with her aunt and cousins this week to save on hotel costs. The money argument was still fresh in her mind.
“Please don’t worry about money, Amy. I want you to enjoy this week.” Mom patted Amy’s knee. “Dad and I are so proud of you, hon. You deserve to celebrate.”
Amy was ready to celebrate, too. She’d vowed to make the most of her time with her cousins and not get dragged down by a broken heart. She didn’t know how to delete the looping movie reel of highlights of the Bonnie-and-Clyde romance-that-never-was playing in her brain, but maybe she could minimize that screen and fill up the main screen with new memories, starting right now.
…
The rest of the week in LA passed in a blur, with Amy and her cousins playing tourist at the Griffith Observatory, Hollywood Boulevard, and Universal Studios. When she wasn’t playing tourist, she was busy on social media with the fun outreach posts HeartRacer had given her.
Finally, she’d prepared a lot of questions for Lucinda, about everything from why she wanted to be a writer to why she wouldn’t sell her books to Hollywood to why she never went on book tours anymore. She had a color-coded stack of index cards and was as ready as she’d ever be.
The HeartRacer publicist would be at the interview, too, and she’d told Amy not to worry. If she panicked, she’d step in. Amy figured they were the pros and knew what to do, but she hoped she wouldn’t freeze up.
As for Toff…she still hadn’t heard anything. Late at night, when she allowed herself ten minutes of wallow time, she’d look at their bookface photos, remembering how much fun they had, and all the kissing, and think about what she’d said to him.
Until you figure out what I mean to you, I can’t see you anymore.
She hoped he figured it out soon.
…
The Sunset Bookstore was enormous—three stories high, nearly every inch covered with shelves and shelves of books. Magazines, too, and some toys, and a café with treats and coffee. But mostly? Books.
Amy was in heaven.
She stood in the middle of the main floor of the store gaping up at the open floors above her, where she could see even more people browsing. Escalators ran up one side of the store. Everywhere she turned, she saw readers. Her people. Her planet.
“You must be Amy.” A tall woman with short silver hair and a wide smile approached her and her family. “I recognize that beautiful red hair. I’m Katrina, Lucinda’s publicist.” Katrina greeted Mom and the rest of her family, then put a hand on Amy’s shoulder. “Ready to meet Lucinda?”
Tingles raced up and down Amy’s spine, spreading out to her fingertips and the top of her head. This was it.
“Yes.”
She’d never been readier for anything in her life.
Katrina led Amy through the crowded store, past the rows and rows of chairs set up for the signing. Posters of Lucinda’s book covers were on the walls, and tables full of her books lined either side of the space. She followed Katrina down a cluttered hallway. A few employees glanced up to say hi, a girl with rainbow-dyed hair giving her a thumbs-up.
“Love those Redhead Recs!”
Katrina stopped outside a closed door. “We call it a green room, but it’s really just a break room.” She grinned. “Ready?” She bit her lip, looking as excited as Amy felt.
Katrina opened the door, and Amy stepped inside, coming face-to-face with her idol.
“Hello, Amy.” A tiny, birdlike woman, who looked more like her author photo than a lot of the writers who visited Rose’s store, darted across the room and held out her hand. “I’m so happy to meet you.”
“I…I…” Amy’s throat closed up. No, no, no. Not now.
C’mon, Bonnie. Bring that swagger. Toff’s voice cut through the fuzziness in her brain, clear as if he were standing next to her, holding her hand.
The pressure in Amy’s throat eased, and she sucked in air. Squaring her shoulders, she took Lucinda’s hand in hers. “I’ve never been so excited to meet someone in my life!”
Lucinda blinked in surprise, then threw back her head and laughed. “We’re going to have fun,” she said, “maybe even as much fun as you had interviewing that cute surfer boy.”
…
Half an hour later, Amy and Lucinda were having fun—so much fun that Amy forgot all about her color-coded index cards, and her stage fright, and how sometimes she snorted when she laughed.
They sat in two cushy chairs facing at least two hundred fans. Five minutes into the interview, Amy had stopped trembling. Ten minutes in, she started talking to Lucinda the person instead of “Lucinda the author,” and twenty minutes in, they were having a raucous debate about the Harry/Hermione OTP, which Lucinda did not support.
“One hundred percent Team Ron,” Lucinda said, banging her fist on the table to applause.
“I disagree!” Amy exclaimed. “Ron’s cute but clueless. He could never keep up with Hermione. Team Harry for the win!”
Half the audience booed while the other half cheered, Amy egging on her Team Harry crowd and Lucinda winding up Team Ron. Laughing, Amy glanced at the HeartRacer publicist and the photographer filming the interview. They both grinned.
“As an author, I can see why readers love OTPs,” Lucinda said. “Early in my career, I forced two characters to be together who clearly shouldn’t have been.”
Amy gasped as the audience exploded with questions and guesses. A ton of readers shipped two iconic characters from Lucinda’s first series for teen readers. Was she admitting the ship should be canon?
Lucinda put up a hand, silencing the excited crowd. “I’ll tell you who it was,” she said, pausing dramatically and shooting Amy an impish smile, “if Amy will tell us if Bonnie and Clyde was a fake ship for the HeartRacer contest or the real thing.”
Amy froze. Toff and her being a OTP had been a big part of the contest, after all. She shouldn’t be surprised this came up. Still, she’d never expected to have so much riding on her personal life.
Lucinda leaned toward her, face crinkling with worry. “Honey, I’m sorry. I can tell by your face this is a painful question. You don’t have to answer. I’ll go ahead and give them the truth anyway.”
“It’s okay,” Amy said. “I’ll do it.”
“You don’t have to.” Lucinda patted her hand sympathetically.
Amy took a deep breath and turned to the audience, forcing a big smile. “You know how it is with ships. I wish BonnieandClyde was real, but it’s not.”
Lucinda gave her a sad smile, then told the keyed-up audience that their speculation all these years was right. After all the excitement died down, the bookstore staff had people line up to get their books signed. Amy posed for photos with Lucinda, who gave her a big hug. “I love that big book brain of yours. You keep doing what you’re doing.”
“Fantastic job. You’ve got a great future ahead of you,” the HeartRacer publicist added. She gave Amy her business card. “If you ever want an internship, give me a call.”
Amy glowed with pride. She’d done it. All by herself. She’d brought her own swagger, asked great questions, and made people laugh.
But as her family swooped in to hug her, a stab of pain twisted in her heart.
She missed Toff.
Lucinda stepped away from the crowd and pulled Amy aside.
“Honey, don’t give up on your own HEA. I know what I saw in that video.” She smiled. “I assume he messed up
, big-time. The thing is, we all do.” She squeezed Amy’s shoulder. “You need to decide if the good outweighs the bad, and if he’s worth a second chance.”
Lucinda glanced toward a bookshelf where a beautiful older woman watched them, smiling cryptically. “Somebody gave me one, once upon a time, and we’re living our HEA today.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
“You’re an asshole,” Dallas said as Toff slammed his free weights back into the rack, earning glares from their fellow weightlifters at the gym.
“I know.” Toff wiped his sweaty face with a towel.
Dallas was right. He was the biggest asshole on the planet, maybe the universe. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Amy telling him that she had fallen for him. That she’d always liked him. And he’d let her go, not able to say a word. The memory tormented him, punching him in the gut over and over.
While Dallas finished his dumbbell raises, Toff studied his reflection in the mirror. Messy, unwashed hair. A stinky T-shirt he’d worn three days in a row. Dark circles under his bloodshot eyes. He’d barely slept since she’d left, and when he had, it was restless sleep haunted by dreams of a red-haired girl who ran so fast, he couldn’t catch her.
He didn’t know why he’d ruined the best relationship he’d ever had, but he knew he’d never forgive himself. Hoping Amy would forgive him—again—was stupid.
Dallas racked his weights and joined him, his penetrating gaze locking with Toff’s in the mirror. “I don’t know what she ever saw in you. You’re a train wreck.”
“Fuck off,” Toff said, but his heart wasn’t in it. His heart was in hiding, locked up in a tiny prison cell.
“Let’s go, shithead.” Dallas gripped Toff’s shoulder and steered him across the gym floor.
“I liked you better when you stuck to your mom’s no-swearing rule,” Toff grumbled. Dallas laughed as they parked themselves on spinning stools at the smoothie bar.
After they placed their orders, Dallas tossed a twenty on the counter. “This one’s on me.”
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