Blitz: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romantic Comedy (Blast Brothers Book 3)
Page 28
"Sure, except for the time he fucked your friend."
"Oh, that's nice," I said. "Not that it's any of your business, but he actually apologized for that."
"Oh, yeah? When?"
"In Buckville," I said. "He came up to me and told me that it's been bothering him for years. He said that he didn't know what had gotten into him, except that he was too young and stupid to know better."
Chase sneered, "Oh, he knew."
"Yeah, but at least he was sorry. And he had the guts to say so."
Chase scoffed, "Big deal."
"Yeah, it was a big deal," I said. "Tell me, have you ever apologized?"
"Sure."
"Oh, yeah? When?"
"You mean to you?"
"To anyone," I said. "In your whole life, have you ever said you're sorry?'
"Maybe. I dunno. It's not like I keep track."
I rolled my eyes. "Of course you don't."
Sounding angrier than ever, he said, "Maybe you don't know me as well you think."
"Yeah, and I maybe never will. And you're just mad that I ruined your plans."
"My plans to what?" he scoffed. "Dump you out of spite?"
"No. To dump me when I wasn't useful anymore."
He shifted in his seat and gave the sunroof another irritated look. "Seriously, what the fuck is that noise?"
I smiled. "I don’t hear anything out of the ordinary." Technically, this was true. After all, the sunroof always made that noise above a certain speed.
Welcome to my world, Chase Blastoviak.
He was still looking upward. "Then you're either deaf or crazy."
He had no idea.
I asked, "You wanna hear something really crazy?"
"I don't know. Do I?"
Whether he did or not, he was still going to hear it. "A couple of days ago, guess who I ran into."
"Who?"
"My old boss, you know at the coffee shop."
"And?"
"And she tells me why she flipped out when she heard that I was trying to lure you in for coffee."
Chase shifted in his seat, but said nothing. From the look on his face, he knew exactly what I was going to say. But if he thought I was going to let him off the hook, he was nuts.
So, right there in my car, I laid it out there. "She told me that she caught a former barista blowing you in the backroom."
Under his breath, Chase murmured, "Yeah, well, it wasn't my idea."
Talk about arrogant.
I wasn't even sure what bothered me more – the fact that he'd done such a thing, or that I'd been fired because of it. Stupidly, I said, "Do you know how unsanitary that is?"
"Look," he said, "Yeah, I've done some things I'm not proud of. But that was before you."
"Before me, huh?" I made a sound of annoyance. "That's rich."
"How so?"
"Do you remember one of the first things you ever said to me?"
"No, what?"
"You said, and I quote, 'I don't want to fuck you.'" I gave him a long sideways glance. "And here's a question. Did you ever apologize for that?"
"For what?"
"For making such a rude assumption. And for being so crude about it." When Chase declined to answer, I replied on his behalf. "No. You didn't. But like a total idiot, I let it go."
"Yeah. You did," he said. "So maybe it's your fault as much as mine."
"For what?" I said. "Not demanding an apology?"
He shrugged, but said nothing in reply.
Obviously, he was missing the point. He could still apologize. I mean, better later than never, right?
And yet, he remained silent.
By now, I felt like screaming. "Don't you have anything to say?"
"Nope."
"Why not?"
"Because I never argue with women."
"Are you freaking serious?"
"What, do I look like I’m joking?"
"I don't know what you look like," I said. "But I'll tell you one thing. You can't claim you never argue when no one ever calls you on your bullshit."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning the first time we met, you were totally rude to me. And here, you don't even think you were arguing because I didn't argue back."
"Hey, you got what you wanted, didn't you?"
"What do you mean?"
"I sponsored your festivals, didn't I?"
"Oh come on," I said. "I wanted you to sponsor one festival, but you couldn’t even do it."
"The hell I didn't."
"Okay, fine you did it, but not for the good of the community. No. You did it because you wanted to offset the publicity of that godawful book, which I did read by the way."
"And?"
By now, I felt utterly drained. "I don't know."
"You don't know what?"
"I don’t know anything."
"Got that right," he said. "And we're done talking."
"Great. Because I don't have anything more to say to you, anyway."
"Good. Because you've said enough already." He looked toward his window and said, "Now stop the car. I'm getting out."
Seriously?
I looked around. We were on a long, lonely stretch of road surrounded by farm fields and not much else. But hey, if that's what he wanted.
I slowed the car and pulled off to the shoulder. My car had barely come to a stop when he pushed open the passenger side door. He was out so fast I never had the chance to say goodbye, as if I would anyway.
If Chase were anyone else, I might have worried about him getting home safely. But he had a cell phone, plenty of money, and countless lackeys he could call for help.
And besides, this was his idea, not mine.
After he slammed the passenger side door, I floored it and didn't look back, not even in the rear-view mirror.
And then, I went home to cry.
I knew I couldn’t cry for long, because I still had work to do. But that didn't mean I couldn't take at least some time to wallow in my misery before returning to the festival, where I'd have to put on a happy face no matter what.
And I would, I decided, even if killed me.
Chapter 74
Chase
From the driver's seat of his black pickup, Brody asked, "So, how's it goin'?"
"Shitty," I said. "Thanks for asking."
Brody knew damn well how things were going, because a half-hour ago, I'd called him for a ride.
Since then, I'd spent the last thirty minutes walking along the roadside while Mina's accusations haunted my steps like a crazed hitchhiker.
From the passenger's seat, I said, "Lemme ask you something."
"Yeah?"
"I've apologized, right?"
"For what?"
"I dunno. For whatever."
He shrugged. "Not that I recall."
I frowned. "Yeah, but if I did something wrong, I'd own up to it, right?"
He gave me a long sideways look, but said nothing.
"I would," I insisted.
"Don't tell me," he said. "Tell Mina."
"Tell her what?" I scoffed. "That I'm sorry? Forget it. I already told her that I loved her, and you know what she said?"
"What?"
"Nice try."
Brody was silent for a long moment. "So let me get this straight. You said, 'I love you.' And she said, 'Nice try?'"
"Yeah, except I didn't say it the way you did."
"So how did you say it?"
"I told her friend that Mina was the girl I loved."
"So you told someone else that you loved her?"
"Yeah, but Mina was right there to hear it." I reached up to rub the back of my neck before mumbling, "And actually, the chick's more like her enemy, but you know what I mean."
"So you didn't really say it?"
"Not directly, but Mina got the idea."
Brody gave a low scoff but said nothing.
"What?" I said.
With a slow shake of his head, he asked, "Aren't you supposed to be go
od with people?"
I knew what he meant. I was the kind of guy who always knew what to say, except not so much these days. "I am good with people," I said. "Just not with Mina, apparently."
"Yeah. And you wanna know why?"
"Why?"
"Because she sees through your bullshit."
Great. So now he was hassling me, too? I asked, "And how would you know?"
"I'm just calling it as I see it." He gave me another sideways look. "And in case you don't know, confessing your love to a third-party doesn't count."
"Yeah, well, I never did it before, so…" I didn't bother finishing the sentence. But I wasn't exaggerating. As far as confessing my love, it's not like I'd had a lot of experience.
Hell, I'd had zero experience. And apparently, it showed.
Pushing that issue aside, I went on to tell Brody how Mina had overheard that joke I'd made at the Buckville Fairgrounds – the one about dumping her when the campaign was over.
When I finished, Brody said, "Oh, yeah? How'd that go?"
"You know how it went," I said. "She dumped me first."
With a low chuckle, he said, "And you still can't believe it, can you?"
No. I couldn't, actually.
In my whole life, I'd never had any girl walk away from me. It was a new experience, and one I wasn't enjoying.
I told Brody, "I don't know what I believe."
"Yeah you do," he said. "You're just having a hard time facing it, that's all."
"Oh, yeah? And how would you know?"
"Because I've been there."
Sure, he had. I leaned back in the seat and said. "By the way, you or Mason need to handle the festival stuff tonight. I'm done."
Brody laughed. "God, what a pussy."
I felt like slugging him. "Are you fucking serious?"
He made a show of looking around. "You see anyone else in the truck?"
"I'm no pussy," I said. "I’m just tired of the bullshit."
Brody gave a slow nod. "I'll give it a day, maybe two."
"For what?"
"For you to pull your head out of your ass and see things the way they really are."
He was wrong.
It didn't take me a day. It took me less than five hours before I was willing to face the truth. I'd messed up, bigtime.
I'd been arrogant, stupid, and blind, even more so when I considered what I'd lost.
Mina.
Chapter 75
Mina
After leaving Chase along the roadside, I drove straight to my parents' house and spent nearly an hour wallowing in misery.
On the upside, with my whole family at the festival, I had plenty of privacy to vent my frustrations into my pillow before cleaning myself up and leaving once again for the fairgrounds.
Like a total sap, I even drove back along the same road where I'd left Chase, just to make sure that he wasn't stranded along the roadside.
When I didn't see him, I figured that was that.
Good.
I was done anyway – done crying, done obsessing, done thinking about him at all.
Or at least, that's what I kept telling myself even as I returned to the festival and wandered through the midway, trying to pretend that everything was okay.
I still had a job to do, and I was determined to do it, so I spent the next several hours fielding any media inquiries and posing for pictures whenever anyone asked, which made me feel totally ridiculous, considering that I wasn't picture-worthy on my own.
No. The only reason anyone wanted my picture was because they were under the mistaken impression that I was still somehow connected to Chase.
I wasn't.
And yet, his words from earlier haunted me more than I cared to admit. He'd said that he loved me. Oh sure, he hadn't said it to me directly, but he had said it.
And what had I said in return? Nice try.
But in my own defense, it had seemed like just another ploy to patch things up temporarily so he could get his money's worth on the publicity front.
But now, a little voice in my head reminded me that I was the one who'd broken up with him, and that if he were telling the truth – that he hadn't planned to dump me at the end of the campaign – well, in that case, I'd thrown away something pretty spectacular over a simple misunderstanding.
Tonight was the demolition derby, and I had no plans to attend. Already, I'd heard through the grapevine that the trophies were going to be awarded by Brody Blastoviak, Chase's younger brother.
And Chase? Apparently, he wasn't planning to return tonight at all.
Fine.
No one wanted him here, anyway.
I held onto this belief for maybe three or four hours before I decided that I was full of it. I did want him here, and by now, I was kicking myself for not doing a better job of listening to whatever he'd been trying to tell me in the car.
It didn't help that everywhere I looked, I saw happy couples holding hands, going on rides together, or sharing cotton candy and funnel cakes like Chase and I used to do.
And we'd been happy.
Hadn't we?
By seven o'clock that night, I was officially done working. I spent some time with my parents and sister, along with my brother and his wife, and later, a few friends from high school.
And even though I tried to be upbeat, my heart was heavier than it had been in a long time, even more so because I was now wondering if maybe I'd been the one who messed up, and not Chase.
Or who knows. Maybe we'd both messed up. After all, I'd realized weeks ago that I'd fallen for him. But had I said anything? No. Cripes, I'd barely admitted it to myself.
Desperate to cheer myself up, I bought a bunch of tickets and went on ride after ride, looking to reclaim some of the happiness I usually felt here at the festival.
It was no use.
Still, I kept on trying.
And although I had plenty of people I could be spending time with, I was now going on the rides alone, because somewhere along the way, I'd decided that I'd rather sulk in solitude than ruin anyone else's good time.
It was almost nine o'clock, and I was about to embark on my third solitary Ferris Wheel ride when the carnival worker said the same exact thing he'd said the last two times I'd come through his line. "Just one?"
In my current mood, it was all I could do to keep from snapping at him, telling him that of course it was just one, because after all, I was standing here by myself, wasn't I?
But of course, it wasn't the guy's fault. It was my own.
So instead, I replied with a smile and a nod, only to pause when a familiar male voice from somewhere behind me said, "No, it's two."
My breath caught. Chase?
Chapter 76
Mina
I whirled to look, and there he was, standing almost close enough to touch. His gaze probed mine as he added, "If she'll have me."
When I gave a happy nod, Chase thrust a giant wad of tickets into the guy's hands and said, "And we're not coming down 'til we're done."
The guy frowned in confusion. "Done what?"
"Done talking." And with that, Chase took my hand in his and led me to the waiting passenger car. Ten seconds later, we were locked in and rocking upward along the Ferris Wheel's path.
The sky was dark, but the carnival lights were sparkling in the summer night as Chase turned to face me. "I need to tell you something."
By now, I felt nearly breathless. "You do?"
"Hell yeah." His gaze warmed. "I love you." He gave my hand a tender squeeze. "And I'm sorry."
I stared in amazement. I wasn't sure which statement surprised me more, but both of them warmed my heart. "Really?"
His eyes filled with an emotion that could only be love. "I should've said it sooner. Hell, I should have said both things sooner."
Already, I was blinking back tears. "I should've, too. I mean, you're not the only one who's sorry."
"Screw the apology." He grinned. "Now tell me what I want to hear."
It was vintage Chase, and I couldn’t help but laugh through my tears as I admitted what both of us already knew. "I love you, too."
"You'd better." And with that, he wrapped me in arms and pressed his lips to mine. My heart gave a crazy little flutter, and I leaned into his kiss, savoring the feel of him, the taste of him, and even the scent of him, as his mouth claimed mine, right there on the Ferris Wheel.
The kiss left me not only breathless, but dizzy, too – and happier than I'd been in days, possibly years or maybe a lifetime.
Chase pulled back and reached once again for my hand. "Listen, I want you know something."
I stared deep into his amazing eyes. "What?"
"With the 'I love you' thing, you wanna know why I did such a sorry job of it?"
I shook my head. "You mean…just now? Because, actually—"
He laughed. "No. I mean earlier."
"Oh." Now I was laughing, too. "Yeah, I think I know what you mean."
"The thing is, you're the first girl I've said it to – the only girl I've said it to."
I blinked in surprise. "Seriously?"
He nodded. "And you want to hear something really messed up?"
"What?"
"I've loved you for weeks, maybe months. And my family – some of them, anyway – they saw it as clear as day. And I kept denying it because, well…" He gave me a sheepish grin. "I guess I was an idiot."
By now, my heart felt almost ready to burst. "If that's true, you're not the only one, because I should have talked to you too. When I overheard you saying that thing about dumping me, I should have asked you about it. But instead…" I gave him a sheepish smile of my own. "Well, I guess I was an idiot, too."
"You must be," he teased, "if you love someone like me."
I did love him, which meant there was no way I'd let that sentiment stand. "You mean someone wonderful?"
But already, Chase was shaking his head. "That's not the word I'd use." His voice grew quiet. "And I want to be honest with you. I've done plenty of stuff in my life, stuff I'm not proud of, but you need to know something else."
With a hard swallow, I said, "What?"
"First, lemme back up. Maybe a month or two before we met, I guess I went through a bit of crisis."
If so, this was the first I'd heard of it. "Really? What kind of crisis?"
"Call it growing pains," he said. "But I guess I started realize how empty my life was, so I pulled back, hard."