Damned if I do, damned if I don’t.
“I take it from your deafening silence it would be a bad thing,” Cat said, her voice laced with pain. Shit. She thinks I’m rejecting her.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“It’s okay.” Her face was full of shadows as she clamped down on her lip. “If you were going to date someone, it should be someone you liked, not someone who dragged you into a stupid scheme. I can’t remember you dating anyone, so I have no idea what type of girl you even go for.”
The type in front of me.
The type who humors a brownie making, strip-poker addicted old lady.
The type who sets my skin on fire.
“I’m not sure I have a type. And what I was trying to say was it would be crazy for me to date anyone. I’m not boyfriend material. Not in the real sense. There are things you don’t know about me. I’ve got stuff—”
“Alex, it’s okay. Let’s stop this from turning into the most embarrassing conversation ever,” she said, finally turning toward him, her eyes wide and solemn.
The worst of it was, now that they’d had the discussion, they couldn’t go back to the way things were. She tried to open up, and I shot her down.
“Sure.” He let go of the branches of the plant and leaned back against the wooden seat, his mind whirling. She shifted, his leather jacket creaking in response. Spending too much time with her was a bad thing. And here was the proof.
Chapter Nine
Sweat dotted Caitlin’s brow but she ignored it as she thrust the shovel deep into the cinnamon-colored soil. Blisters stung her hands, and the sounds of the forest rang out around her. She didn’t care. All that mattered was digging the hole to crawl inside and hide in until the humiliation had passed. Dig, dig, dig.
“There you are. I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” Nikki said on Monday. Cat quickly shut her notebook and thrust it into her backpack. “What are you doing here?”
All the usual stuff.
Expressing my creativity through the written word.
Trying to work out my emotions.
Hiding.
“Nothing,” she said from her spot on the library floor. She’d chosen it because it was partially hidden by a large whiteboard. “Just working on an article. I thought you’d be with Parker.”
“I was, until Mackenzie shanghaied him. She takes this decorating thing very seriously. I’m guessing this hideaway is part of your denial approach to life. What happened to my pep talk?”
She stood up and rolled her shoulders. Turned out hiding in a two-foot space in the library was painful in more ways than one.
“It was kind of humiliating. I floated the idea of us dating, and he looked like he’d just been shot.”
“This is Alex. He always looks like that. I’m surprised you can read him at all. The guy’s a master of the deadpan. Are you sure you’re not being overly sensitive?”
“Well, let’s see, after he gave me the ‘I’ve got stuff’ speech, we walked to the car in complete silence, and I haven’t spoken to him since.” It was illogical to be mad just because she’d misread things, but telling herself that didn’t improve her mood.
The only positive was she’d spent all of yesterday working on a new article for Mackenzie. Cat Turner—powered by humiliation and caffeine.
Nikki frowned. “Did he say what the stuff was?”
“Strangely enough, I didn’t hang around to ask. He probably meant about the accident and how people always judge him. He’s always been hard on himself.”
“Sounds like someone else I know,” Nikki retorted, but thankfully decided to drop the subject as they walked to their next class. Thank goodness, because the only thing worse than being humiliated by someone you liked, was having to talk about just how horrible it really was.
…
“Wow, you look like boiled crap,” Joe said as Alex slung his backpack onto the workbench and walked over to where his overalls were kept. “Tough day at school?”
“Tough day at life,” he retorted.
“You want to talk about it?” Joe followed him over, an expectant look on his face.
“Nope.” Besides, when did Joe ever want to talk about anything? It was probably because he was dating. Next, he’d suggest they braid each other’s hair.
“Fine.” Joe shrugged and returned to the Ford he was working on. Which was good, because there was nothing to talk about.
Alex had done the right thing with Cat. In time, she’d see that.
They were better as friends. It was less dangerous. Less confusing.
And a whole lot more frustrating.
He grabbed the workbook and scanned the schedule. The brake fluid on a motorbike needed changing. He got to work, letting himself get lost in the steady rhythm of using his hands. It was a trick he’d learned after the accident—keep busy and stay out of his head.
Joe was waiting for him when he finally finished, and nodded for Alex to sit down in one of the battered old chairs in the break room at the back of the garage.
“Please tell me you’re not going to lecture me?”
“Would it make any difference if I did?” Joe asked as Alex folded his arms.
“No. And before you ask. I’m fine.”
“Yes, as we’ve discussed earlier, you look a picture of radiance,” Joe retorted as he pulled a letter off the bench. “But you’re old enough to make your own decisions. I’m your boss and landlord, not your keeper. I just wanted to give you this.”
“Oh.” He winced. Since when did he talk so much? Two weeks ago, he wouldn’t have even commented on what he thought Joe might’ve wanted. He took the envelope and frowned. Summerset Trust. No doubt it was another sorry-not-sorry letter to add to his collection. At this rate, he could wallpaper a room. “Thanks. I’ll open it later.”
“Sure.” Joe shrugged. “Though, the woman who delivered it seemed to think you might want to sit down. Hence the chair.”
“Wait. What?” Alex stopped scrunching it up in his hand and inspected it. No stamp, and his name was handwritten in heavy cursive. “You’re saying it was hand delivered?”
“Yup. I’d tell you about it, but I know you don’t want a lecture,” Joe drawled before grinning. “It was the same woman who called me to talk about you. I guess you put me down as your landlord.”
“I never thought they’d call you.” Alex rubbed his brow. Did this mean they’d spoken to his teachers, too? Was this really happening? “Why didn’t you tell me you’d spoken to her?”
“You never asked.” Joe shrugged. “So, are you going to open it, or what?”
He toyed with the letter.
It was coated with an aura of money. The kind of money he’d never had. Anger tore through him before he choked it down. The sooner he stopped overthinking his life, the better. He opened the letter. It was a single page, which he flattened out. He quickly scanned the content, a strange churning in his stomach.
“Well, don’t keep me hanging here, kid,” Joe said, and Alex scratched his head as the words floated in front of him. When the rejections had started flooding in, he’d known exactly how to react to them—acknowledge them and move on.
But this was new territory. Unfamiliar. Something I could get used to.
He slowly glanced up. “Whatever you said must’ve worked. I’ve made the shortlist.”
“I can be very charming when I put my mind to it.” Joe held out his hand. “And congratulations, kid.”
“Thanks.” Unexpected emotion caught in his throat. Yes, he’d had a plan, but he never allowed himself to think too far ahead because things could change in an instant. Yet, here he was, one step closer.
And I nearly didn’t apply.
“No problem. Now I’d better go and make myself presentable. Maggie and I are going on another date tonight. Can I leave you to lock up?” Joe said. It was impossible not to see how happy his normally bad-tempered boss looked.
“Sure. And have a good night.”
Alex sucked in his breath as he watched Joe retreat.
Was it really so simple?
He scanned the letter again. Joe had said congratulations and shaken his hand, but Alex wasn’t the one who’d done it. Cat had. She was the one who’d pushed him. Who’d believed in him.
A hell of a lot more than I believed in myself.
It also meant he needed to thank her. But, to do that, he’d first need to apologize.
He locked up and climbed the stairs to his apartment to have a shower, all the time trying to ignore the whisper in his head.
To get what you want, you just need to ask.
The words were syrup in his mouth, like the candy he never let himself eat.
It might not work…but hell, what if it did?
…
“Come on, honey. It will be fun.” Her mom held up her latest card to press home her point. It had a picture of a frog in a swimming pool and underneath it said, Make a Splash.
“No way.” Cat shook her head. The card was cute, but being the third wheel at dinner with two lovebirds was not. “If I don’t go, then you can make it a date. Oh, but don’t you dare tell me any of the details.”
“Fine.” Her mom let out a sigh, which was ruined by the smile that hadn’t been far from her face. “But are you sure you’re okay? You seem a bit down.”
“Nope, nothing wrong with me.” Cat wasn’t sure who she was trying to convince.
And, technically, it was true. Mackenzie liked her last article and had given her several new assignments. At least one part of her life was going well, which was why she’d asked for Alex’s help in the first place.
Be careful what you wish for.
“Now go, have fun. But not too much. Remember it’s a school night,” Cat lectured as her mom and Joe finally climbed into the car and disappeared from sight.
She gripped the half-open front door and considered doing her homework before deciding misery didn’t like homework, it liked Netflix. And ice cream.
“Hey,” Alex’s voice came through the night as he walked to the bottom step of the porch and then stopped, like he was in a vampire movie, uncertain if he was allowed in. His hair was damp, and there was a cautious frown around his mouth. “So, I missed you at school today.”
“Yeah, well, things to do, people to see.” You to avoid. “What do you want?”
“Nothing.” He shrugged, his face half hidden in the shadows. “Shit. Cat. I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what?” Her fingers tightened on the door. The grain was cool against her skin. He was silent, his head bowed. It was so Alex. A lump formed in her throat. Who was she to make him feel bad just because he didn’t like her? Talking had never been his thing. Nor had dating.
He kept trying to tell me.
I just didn’t listen.
Some of the tension eased in her chest as she let go of the door and joined him on the step. “Scrap that question. Don’t be sorry. Alex, we’re good.”
“You sure?” His voice was like honey running down her skin.
“Yeah. Let’s forget it happened. In fact, let’s delete it from existence. We could do a time jump. Straight from Brighton Pavilion until now.” She clicked her fingers. “Whoosh, it’s all just gone. Take that Stephen Hawking.”
“You have a vivid imagination. You should be a writer.”
“Interesting,” she croaked before daring to turn to him. “I’m sorry I made you feel bad. I guess all the Hawaiian music got to my head. But you were right. We’re better as friends. Forgive me?”
“There’s nothing to forgive.” He twisted until his shoulder was leaning against the porch rail. His skin was drawn, and there were faint bruises under his eyes.
“Is that why you came around?”
“Partly,” he said before retrieving a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket. “I wanted to show you this, but then when I got here, I was worried it could be—”
“Weird?” She cut him off, recalling when she turned up on his doorstep. How could they be so comfortable, yet so awkward around each other? It made no sense.
“Yeah, something like that.” He grinned, obviously slipping into the same memory. The last of her anger faded.
“So, what’s this thing?” The paper was thick and creamy, and across the top in heavy gold font was written: Summerset Trust.
Dear Mr. Locke,
Thank you for your application. We’re delighted to tell you that you’ve made our short list and will be invited for an interview in October.
Yours…
He’d done it.
Not that she’d ever doubted him. But still…
She lowered the letter as a rare smile broke across his face, and before she could stop herself, she hugged him. Electricity slammed into her chest, and for a moment he stiffened before his arms tightened around her, enclosing her in the warmth of his body.
“Holy crap, Alex,” she squealed, her voice muffled against his chest.
And what a chest it was. No. Bad thoughts. Do not think about his chest. And whatever you do, don’t breathe in his scent. Oh, crap…
“I just wanted to let you know, since you were the one who helped me.” He loosened his grip.
“I didn’t do anything. You’re the one with the crazy GPA,” Cat said, hoping her face wasn’t bright red. “I’m so happy for you.”
“And I’m grateful for you,” he said, his gaze not leaving hers. She gulped. Misreading signs seemed to be her specialty lately. It didn’t mean anything.
“Well, it looks like we have a mutual admiration society,” she tried to keep her voice light. “In a platonic way.”
“Right,” he said then shook his head. “Hell, Cat. I’m messing this up. The other night when you asked me what my type was… I lied. I know exactly what my type is. You.”
The night air was suddenly still. No birds. No neighbors. No cars in the distance. Just the two of them, and one single thought.
He likes me?
“Oh. So, what happened at Brighton Pavilion?”
“I was trying to do the right thing. I meant what I said. There are things you don’t know about me,” he said, a flash crossing his face.
“There are things you don’t know about me, either. Sometimes I don’t brush my hair,” she said.
“You’re such a badass.” A reluctant smile tugged at his mouth. “I didn’t mean to upset you. That’s the last thing I wanted.”
“It’s the last thing I want as well.” She hardly dared to move, afraid if she did, the fragile thing between them would dissolve. All because he blamed himself for what happened to his mom and his sisters. Birdie was right. He was harder on himself than anyone else could ever be. “What if we stop worrying about all the reasons why it would never work, and just see if it does?”
“What are you saying?” Caution clouded his eyes as if, even now, he was going to change his mind.
Please don’t change your mind.
“Nikki and Birdie have told me I overthink things. That I need to just chill out and make mistakes. Though, between you and me, I don’t think I’m ready to make another Bennet Miller-size mistake. But you’re not him. Would it be so bad to try?”
He opened his mouth and then shut it again before letting out a soft groan. “What if we mess up?”
“What if we don’t?” she whispered as he lifted her hand to his mouth and pressed his lips against it, his touch hot against her skin, his eyes never leaving hers.
She’d kissed a few boys, but electricity had never raced along her skin before. Nor had there been an invisible thread tugging her forward.
Because they hadn’t been Alex.
She closed the space between them, and he let out a soft groan as his mouth found hers. She returned the kiss, and his hand, still holding hers, tightened around her fingers. Normally, he was always coming or going from her life, but no
w he was perfectly still. With me. Faint stubble rubbed her skin, and his arms slid around her waist, dragging her closer.
She broke the kiss and tilted her head up toward the stars. “Is it weird there aren’t fireworks going off in the sky right now?”
“You’re just not looking in the right places,” he said as his hands cupped her face and he kissed her again.
“I concede to your greater knowledge.” She tentatively pressed her hand onto his chest, just because she could. “And in case you didn’t know, we now appear to be friends who kiss.”
“It’s been brought to my attention.” He let out a soft groan as her hand continued to explore his chest. “Are you freaked out?”
“No, I’m more surprised we didn’t think of it sooner,” she said as his hands caught hers and he kissed her again. “So, what does this mean for us?”
A darkness crossed his face, but it quickly disappeared. “I don’t know. I’ve never really dated before.”
She reached up, his skin smooth under her fingers. “Well, for the record, if it doesn’t end up on YouTube, it will be a million times better than my last relationship.”
“You’re safe there. I don’t even have a YouTube channel,” he said as the darkness faded and he held her gaze again. Heat shimmered up her arm, and her heart hammered.
“Are we really doing this?” she said.
“I guess so.” He nodded before his mouth once again found hers.
…
“This is amazing.” Nikki pounded the words out like a maestro, attracting a few curious gazes in the process, not least from their art teacher. Cat turned her attention back to the sketch she was working on then discreetly glanced again at her friend and grinned.
“It’s pretty cool.”
“Times one thousand,” Nikki adjusted her voice to a whisper. “Here I was thinking you didn’t answer my texts because you were studying. Studying Alex.”
“Stop making everything sound smutty,” she protested, but it was hard not to smile.
Her and Alex.
It was like opening a door and discovering a carnival on the other side.
A carnival with kissing.
Really great kissing. She smiled some more.
“It’s my gift.” Nikki shrugged. “And hey, did he tell you what the problem had been?”
The Heartbreak Cure Page 9