14

Britta

“Come on, ladies, you can do it!” Vivian says over the mic strapped to her cheek. “Last set.”

I pump my legs on the stationary bike as hard as I can, wincing when the lingering soreness from my workout the other day with Cash causes my entire body to ache. Why did I ask him to train me? I’m a stupid, stupid woman.

“Is she trying to kill us?” I wheeze.

Liss laughs. “Nah, she wouldn’t do that to her nephew.”

I glance over at my pregnant friend. Despite her growing bump, she’s doing a notable job of keeping up with the rest of us. I was a little leery when she kept showing up for class month after month, but she insists she has her doctor’s approval.

“You’re doing amazing,” I tell her. “I don’t know that I’d have your kind of motivation if I was growing a tiny human.”

She shakes her head and wipes some of the sweat from her brow with the small rag attached to her bike. “If you had a husband who looked like A.J., you would.”

I roll my eyes as a breathless laugh spills out of me. “Don’t even. You know A.J. is a man obsessed. Always has been.” He’s proven to be a faithful husband to my friend, so it’s impossible not to think of him as a hero.

“Still,” Liss says, losing some of her steam. “I’ll always be older than him, you know? I gotta be able to keep up.”

I shake my head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Hey,” she barks. “Not everyone has a dancer’s body like you.”

I scoff but don’t respond. It’s no use. She knows I’ve been bigger than her since we’ve known one another. I’m the friend with big butt and wide hips, the one who no matter how hard we workout, doesn’t seem to get any smaller.

Still, her words remind me of the email I received the other day. I’ve been trying to ignore it, honestly. It’s too hard to imagine picking up my entire life and moving for a whole new career. Liss and I never got to have that lunch where I’d planned to talk to her about it since she ended up with morning sickness that day. It’s been easy to avoid thinking about moving…but now? I force out a breath.

I don’t want to have to admit that I failed at yet another career if I do decide to close down my design firm. But what will I do if I don’t land any more jobs after these next two? I’m hoping Cash’s referral will generate more clients, but I can’t bank on that.

I’ve got to start thinking about the future. As much as I don’t want to consider this teaching job, it might just be my only option.

“Just thirty seconds left!” Viv tells the group. “Push it, ladies, push it!”

I do what little pushing my legs have left, praying I don’t wobble right off the bike, then cheer when the timer runs out. Everyone in the class claps and congratulates one another on a good workout as I hop off and help Liss.

“Good night,” she pants. “My lady parts are screaming at me right now.”

I wince. “Are you sure you should even be doing spin class at this stage of pregnancy? Might be too rough on you.”

She groans and presses a hand into her lower back. “I think you might be right. But please, for the love, don’t tell A.J. He’ll put me on bed rest or something.”

Vivian steps up to us, bright and bubbly as ever. “Nice workout, ladies. Especially you, Liss.”

“Thanks.” Liss offers up a wan smile. “I’m pooped, though.”

“Britta looks wiped too,” Viv notes. “Is there something wrong with your legs?”

“No,” I admit. “Just sore. I worked out with Cash at the gym the other day.”

Both women fall silent. Liss blinks at me, clearly confused, while Viv sends me a blank look. “I’m sorry, did you say…Cash?”

An annoyed sigh drains out of me as I toss my towel over my shoulder. “Yes, Cash. He hired me to redo his office. Then we got into some weird…I don’t know…sparring match that ended with him offering to train me.”

“You never told me this,” Liss notes.

“It just happened two days ago.”

Viv cocks an eyebrow. “Him hiring you or you training there?”

I shift my gaze to hers. “The latter.”

“And how long have you been working for him?” Liss crosses her arms. As defensive a stance as I’ve ever seen from her.

“Just this week.” I take a long swig from my water bottle. “We, um, had lunch on Monday after you texted that you couldn’t make it, and we decided to form a truce.”

My friends exchange wary glances. “Interesting,” Viv says.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Liss wipes her towel across her brow and chest. “This makes me ecstatic. I’m tired of feeling the tension between you two at every single family function.”

Shame hits me hard. “I’m sorry if I’ve made our gatherings weird for you guys.”

“It’s not that,” she’s quick to say with a hand on my arm. “It’s just that I know you dislike him, and it makes things awkward for me. Because I love Cash.”

“I’m sorry.” I hold up a hand. “Did you say love ?”

She giggles and swats at me with her towel. “Yes, love . Like a brother. And I want you to love him too.”

“He is a good guy,” Viv chimes in. “Even if Stewart was intimidated by him at first.”

Liss chuckles. “Okay, but that probably had to do with Stewart and A.J.’s previous issues.”

Viv’s phone rings, and she holds it up. “Speaking of Stew. He knows I’m done with class and probably wants to chat.” We wave her off, and she trots away, smiling like a lovesick idiot.

“I’m happy for her,” Liss says. “And Stew. They deserve each other.”

A fresh spasm of loneliness pulses inside me. “Yeah,” I say despite the ache. “Me too.”

On our way to the locker room, I decide to broach the subject of the dance academy. I already know how I feel about it, but I need my friend’s advice. Someone who can lend me a bit of perspective.

“So, something interesting happened to me this week,” I say once we step into the locker room.

Liss lowers herself onto one of the benches, eyebrows raised. “You mean besides you and Cash having lunch together?”

I don’t attempt to correct her with actually, we had lunch together twice, because that detail’s not important. Instead, I say, “Yep. Even more interesting than that.”

She perks up and straightens her ponytail. “Well, what is it?”

I drop down facing her, one leg on either side of the bench. “I received an email about a job opening this week. From a dance academy in Oregon.”

If possible, Liss’s eyebrows arch even higher. “Oh?”

I hike a shoulder and fiddle with the cap on my water bottle. “It’s crazy, I know. But I guess my old agent, Shane, ran into the director at a competition. They got to talking and somehow my name came up. I’m guessing Shane still feels bad about how things went down at the end of my career.”

Pushing that depressing time from my mind, I continue. “Anyway, it sounds like the school is desperate for qualified teachers. They even had a job listing posted on their website. It’s totally legit. And…they asked me if I’d be interested in teaching dance there.”

“Really?” A smile blooms on Liss’s flushed face. “That’s pretty cool.”

“It is. I mean…I never saw myself as a teacher before, but I obviously love dance. And I think teaching it to younger kids would feel meaningful.”

“But?”

I blink away the sudden tears that mist over my eyes. “But I’d have to leave Sacramento. And I love it here. I love you and Vivian and—” I swallow. “Even though my business is struggling, I still enjoy being an interior designer.”

“Oh, Britt.” Liss reaches out and squeezes my knee. “I didn’t realize your business was still struggling that bad. I mean, I know you said things were slow, but—”

“It’s not like I’m closing my doors tomorrow,” I interject. “But I haven’t had any really lucrative bookings in a while. I may have to work out of my apartment instead of renting an office space if things don’t pick up.”

Liss frowns. “I didn’t realize, B. I’m so sorry.”

Neither did I until recently. Which is why it’s serendipitous that I even received an offer like this from the dance academy.

“Are you going to consider it? The job, I mean.” Liss eyes me with a mixture of interest and dread.

“Honestly,” I say with a shrug, just now realizing the truth. “I’m starting to think that maybe I should. At first, I wrote it off, but even with all the new advertising I’ve been doing, the clients just aren’t rolling in.”

Liss gives me a slow nod like she understands. “Is this place close to your family? Have you mentioned it to them?”

“No, not yet. I don’t want to say anything to Mom and get her hopes up. But yeah, it’s fairly close. An hour and a half away.”

Again, she nods. “Well, I don’t blame you if you want to move closer to home. If my mom was still alive—” She cuts herself off and swallows. It’s impossible not to miss the tears lining her eyes.

I pull her in for a hug, and her shoulders shake.

“I’m sorry!” she squawks, something between a laugh and cry shuddering out of her. “My emotions are all over the place right now.” I give her a squeeze, then lean away. “I’d miss you so much if you moved, though. You’re one of my best friends.” Her watery gaze has tears building in my own eyes.

“I know.” I force a smile. “Same.”

She swipes at her eyes with her sleeve. “Will you tell me when you decide what you’re going to do?”

I wipe a stray tear from my cheek. “Of course. And it wouldn’t be for a while, anyway. The director mentioned next semester.”

“Right.” Liss gives me one of her fake smiles. One that says she wants to congratulate me on a potential opportunity but can’t quite bring herself to mean it. It’s then I realize that if I do entertain the possibility of moving, I’ll need to promise myself to come back and see her, A.J., and my little godson as often as I’m able.

***

In between finishing up my jobs at the bakery and Cash’s office, I’m also trying to plan a bangin’ birthday party for Elyse. I’m not really considering this one a job, per se, since I like Jules as a friend, but I am treating them both with the same amount of care that I would a top-paying client.

I know how hard it is to be a single mom in today’s world thanks to watching Liss with Lyric. She’s done an amazing job with her daughter and had to overcome so much in her life, especially right after Lyric was born.

Jules hasn’t had it any easier, dealing with what I can only imagine is an incredible amount of grief while also consoling and raising her now teenage daughter. I’m sure it’s been hard on the girls, too. While Lyric was just a baby when her dad left, Elyse is older, likely clinging to happy memories of her dad. I’ve never lost a parent, but I can guess it’s one of the toughest things a person has to go through. I know it was for Liss.

All of those reasons are why I want to do this party up right.

Jules and I agreed to go shopping at one of the largest party stores in the area tonight, just so I can get a feel for what Elyse would want. Even if they don’t have everything there, at least I’ll get a better idea of what she loves and hates.

I pull into the store’s parking lot to see that I’ve got two missed calls from Jules. I quickly tap into my phone and call her back. “Hey. What’s up?”

“Britta, I’m so glad I caught you! I am so sorry, but I’m not going to make it tonight.”

My stomach sinks. “Oh, no. Is everything okay?”

Jules releases what sounds like a humorless laugh over the phone. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just got forced into staying over at work.”

I shake my head, even though she can’t see me. “I’m sorry, that’s never fun. Do you need someone to stay with Elyse?” I mean, I’m not exactly parent material, but I love being the fun aunt. I can certainly pick up a teen girl and entertain her for a few hours if her mom needs me to.

“No, she’s good,” Jules says with a light huff like she’s walking fast. “She’s at a friend’s house studying for the night. But I wanted to let you know I found someone to replace me.”

The wheels start turning in my brain. “Someone to replace you?”

Just as I ask the question, my phone buzzes with a text. I put Jules on speaker and tap into the message to see MMMOP flash at the top of my screen.

My stomach sinks even further, threatening to slide across the car’s floorboard.

“I got Cash to take my place,” Jules says in a cheery tone that greatly contrasts with the icky, squishy feeling in my tum tum.

I glance down at the text from Cash that reads Don’t be mad, but my sister asked me to tag along with you tonight. Hope that’s okay.

“Oh,” I squeak. “Yay.” If I could invoke even a hint of excitement into my tone, I would, but I’ve never had a good poker face. Or poker voice, for that matter. Wait. Is that a even thing?

“Listen, I know he’s a guy and probably isn’t the ideal choice for a shopping date, but he knows Elyse. Well enough to be able to point out the things she’d like and dislike.”

Warm fuzzy feelings shouldn’t be mixing with the icky, squishy ones, but hearing that Cash knows his sweet little niece so well does it for me, I guess.

Then my brain latches onto the one word she said that should never be used when referencing Cash.

“Oh, this won’t be a date .” A loud, uncalled for laugh leaks out of me. “I mean, we’re just…you know…shopping.”

There’s a lengthy pause that has me realizing what an utter idiot I am.

Finally, she says, “Right. Um. Are you sure you’re going to be okay with him tonight? If not, we can reschedule. I just wanted to be able to get you started since we’re running out of time.”

“We’ll be fine,” I assure her, even though I’m almost positive my upper lip is starting to sweat. I yank the rearview mirror down to check. “Everything will be fine.”

“Okay, great.” A man’s voice sounds in the background, but I’m too busy wiping off my upper lip to hear what he’s saying. “Britta, I’ve gotta go. Thank you again for this. Text me tomorrow and let me know your ideas.”

“Will do!” I chirp. “Talk to you then.” I hang up the phone, feeling my body erupt in a full-on sweat. It’s one thing to see Cash at Liss and A.J.s, or even at his place of work where there are others around. But to go shopping with him away from what I’ve mentally dubbed as our safe spaces is…too much. It’s sort of like seeing work friends at church or vise versa. Go back to your designated space, please, sir.

I reach into my bag and grab my extra-strength organic deodorant, then swipe a thick layer under each pit. Once that’s applied, I wave my hands under my armpits, doing my best to air them out while I pray for strength against Cash McBryar’s wiles.

Yup, that’s right. Wiles .

If any man had masculine wiles, it would be Cash. His biceps, tan skin, tattoos, and piercings make for a deadly combination. And that’s even without knowing that the man kisses strangers like he’s already starred in every one of their PG-13 rated dreams.

I’m unfortunately still wafting air into my pits when a knock sounds on my driver’s side door. I startle, flinging karate chop arms toward the glass. Cash stares down at me with that amused smirk tilting his wily masculine lips.

I open my door, and he steps back, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Right.” I try to keep my tone light, but it doesn’t seem to want to lose its hard edge.

“So,” Cash says, rocking back on his heels. “Birthday party shopping?”

“Guess so.” I force a smile. “I hope you know enough about your niece to make this worth our while.”

And with that, I march toward the store, wanting—no, needing —to get this done as soon as humanly possible.

Cash wastes no time in catching up. He even holds the door open for me. “In a hurry?”

Why, yes, Cash. I am in a hurry. To escape your masculine wiles.

“No hurry, just…” I reach for the shopping cart. “Ready to do this.”

He eyes me a little too shrewdly with one hand still stuck in his front pocket. With the other, he gestures me forward. “Lead the way.”

I suck in a bolstering breath and push the cart toward a particularly brightly colored aisle. Jules told me before that Elyse is a huge fan of some funky teen pop group and loves neon colors. Maybe it’s just the nineties baby in me, but I thought we could play off that and do something similar to a Y2K style party, complete with glittering disco ball.

“So…” Cash’s deep voice nearly rattles my bones, he’s so close. “What exactly are we looking for?”

I pause in the middle of an aisle strung with luau décor and face him. “I sort of already have an idea in my head, but I want to make sure the things I’m choosing reflect Elyse’s style. Basically, you’re here to say yay or nay.”

“Yay or nay?” His perfectly plump lips turn down as if he doesn’t have a clue what I’m saying.

I pinch the bridge of my nose, already over it. This man will either kill me with his cluelessness or his intoxicating California dreamboat scent.

Can’t decide which.

“Yes,” I say. “Jules assured me that you would know what Elyse likes and doesn’t like.”

He nods slowly like he’s processing. “I should be able to steer you in the right direction.”

“Great.” I paste on a smile that says I’m nothing less than thrilled. “So here’s what I’m thinking…” I give Cash all the details I’ve already mulled over for the party. I tell him about the black light, the color scheme, what I’d like to do with refreshments, even the disco ball. He nods the whole time but doesn’t say a word.

Once we reach an aisle with eighties and nineties style decorations, my anxiousness due to his silence reaches its limit. I whirl toward him. “Does any of that sound promising? What are you thinking?”

For the first time since we arrived, he offers me a full-mouthed smile. “I think you’ve put a lot of thought into this.”

“And?”

“And…I’m wondering why you need me here.”

My thoughts exactly. “Well, you’re free to go. If you think Elyse will be on board with all of that, I can start gathering the things I’ll need.”

Cash’s eyes narrow the slightest bit as he crosses his arms. “Why does it feel like you’re trying to get rid of me?”

Am I that transparent? “You said yourself you didn’t need to be here.”

He takes a step closer and lowers his voice. “Maybe I want to be here. For…” He tilts his head from side to side. “Quality control purposes.”

I raise my eyebrows in question. “Are you saying you have trust issues?”

His devastating half-smile gives me the urge to place my palms on either side of his cheeks just to feel the softness of his beard against my skin again.

“I think you know I trust you,” he says.” I hired you to re-do my office, didn’t I?”

He’s got me there.

“Actually.” His features alight like he just came up with an idea. “I was having some trouble deciding what to get Elyse for her birthday this year. Maybe you could help me.”

“Pretty sure you’re the expert on your niece,” I say, starting forward again.

“But you’re an expert on what it’s like to be a teenage girl.”

“Am I?” I snort a laugh. “You didn’t know me when I was a teen girl. I was awkward and gangly with braces and stringy hair. Elyse is lightyears beyond the kind of girl I was.”

“Aw, come on. I’m sure guys were lining the street, just waiting to ask you out on a date.”

A warm fluttery feeling wraps around my queasy stomach, settling a bit of my unease. “That’s very sweet of you to say, but I promise I’m not lying. I didn’t have my first date until I was a senior in high school.”

Cash makes a thoughtful noise in the back of his throat as he flicks one of the decorative streamers hanging from a nearby shelf. “Let me guess. The popular captain of the football team finally noticed the insecure girl with a recent glow up.”

I release a breathy laugh even though he’s not at all wrong. “You’ve clearly seen too many teen movies.”

He shrugs like I didn’t offend his masculine sensitivities. “ You Drive Me Crazy is my personal favorite.”

I stop and gawk at him. “You did not just say that.”

He raises his pierced eyebrow. “I did, in fact, say that.”

“Well, their story was more of a frenemies to lovers…wasn’t it? I don’t think Adrian Grenier played a football star.” I say it like I haven’t watched that movie over fifty times.

“He did not. But I always kind of identified with his character. He was more of an outcast type, a slacker. Sort of like me.”

“An outcast?” I send him some serious side-eye before plucking some packages of neon glow sticks off a shelf next to me.

“I barely had any friends until I met A.J.”

“Well,” I say, refusing to allow his sad story to permeate my iron-clad exterior. “You are anything but a slacker. I’ve seen you train, remember?”

My cheeks heat the second the words leave my lips. It’s been impossible to scrub the mental image of his glistening shirtless chest from my brain. I turn to avoid him seeing my face bloom red.

“Maybe not now, but in high school…I definitely slacked.”

I toss the packages in the cart, then continue moving down the aisle. “But weren’t you competing professionally by the time you were eighteen?”

Again, I ask like I barely have a clue. As if I didn’t already look up all there is to know about Cash McBryar. When I realized that he was the guy I made out with, I cyber stalked him for a week like I was being paid to do so. Unfortunately, the guy is practically a hermit and there wasn't much to dig up.

“I was,” he confirms. “But that was different. Snowboarding, skateboarding…those have always been my passions. And I tend to have the sort of personality that goes all in for the things I really care about.”

The warm feeling that coated my stomach just moments ago instantly evaporates. For a guy who claims to go all in when he really cares about something, it doesn’t bode well that he wasn’t even willing to tiptoe his way in when it came to me.

But since he’s refusing to address it, I won’t either.

See? Look at how emotionally mature I am.

“I get it,” I say. “I’m the same way.” All true. It’s just that I can’t quite meet his eyes as I say it.

“Like with dancing?”

At least he remembers that detail. If only he’d remember other things…more intimate, physical things like the way his mouth clung to mine the night we first met.

I bite my tongue so hard a metallic taste fills my mouth.

“Sorry, did I touch on a sore subject?”

I blink away my intruding thoughts and face the shelves, pretending to search for something. “Uh, yeah. Like dancing.”

“What made you stop doing it professionally?”

I roll my tongue over my teeth, debating how much I should say. He already knows I have a thyroid disorder. But it’s not exactly the most pleasant story, and it definitely doesn’t paint my body in a positive light. Not that I want him to see it positively or anything.

I inhale a deep breath through my nose and mentally chant He doesn’t want you, he doesn’t want you, he doesn’t want you before deciding to go with honesty. All he’d have to do is ask Liss or Viv and they’d tell him the truth anyway.

“I stopped because my body changed in a way that kept me from getting gigs.” There. It’s done and over and we can move on. “Oh, look, a disco ball!” I hurry over to the glittering orb, but it’s too high for me to reach. “Mind grabbing that for me?”

Cash moves in beside me and puts his long arms to good use, disentangling the ball from where it’s hanging above our heads.

I might’ve been ready for his close proximity, but I never could’ve prepared myself for the way his voice softens when he hands me the ball. “For what it’s worth, your body looks perfect to me. But…I am sorry that happened to you.”

I set the disco ball in the cart and try to keep my emotions from bleeding into my voice. “It is what it is. I’m now on a different career path, and I’m better for it.” Gripping the handle of the cart with both hands, I push it forward and mentally pat myself on the back. I almost sounded like I believed that last line.

“Do you miss it?” he asks. I still haven’t met his eyes, but I can feel his gaze tracking me.

“I could ask you the same thing.” It’s no secret he doesn’t snowboard anymore due to his career-ending injury.

“I do,” he says with a thoughtful note to his voice. “But I’m still able to enjoy skating and boarding as hobbies. It’s just not a good idea to do it on a professional level since there’s a risk of further injuring myself the more I compete.”

I nod and wander further down the aisle but don’t see anything that’ll work with the theme we’re going for.

“I’m guessing you still dance for fun?” he asks.

I bite my cheek. “Sometimes.”

“Like…at the wedding?”

I stop and face him. So he remembers that little number but not the one where he watched me shake everything my mama gave me on a stage under the brightest stage lights known to man? It takes all my effort not to release an exasperated sigh.

“Yes, like at the wedding.”

We’re locked in some sort of weird, silent stare down. I clear my throat to break the tension.

“It doesn’t look like there’s anything else I want to grab here. I’m ready to help you look for a gift if you’re still wanting to do that. There are a couple of stores across the street where we might find something.”

Cash dips his chin with a grateful-looking smile. “Ready when you are.”

***

Once we’re easing down the narrow aisles of one of the popular junior-sized clothing and accessory stores, I realize how right Cash was about needing my help. He may know his niece and what she likes, but he’s also an overprotective uncle. Translation: he’s not about to buy her anything cute and trendy.

“Listen,” I say, using my best placating tone. “All the girls are wearing these nowadays. It’s perfectly fine.”

“It’s a choker .” Cash’s teeth are gritted like he can barely manage to get the word out.

“Yes! How awesome for you that you know what this is.” I dangle the pink and gold necklace in front of him like it’s a bargaining chip. “Chokers are very in right now. See?” I run a finger underneath the black velvet one I’m wearing.

Cash’s eyes zero in on my neck, and his jaw works back and forth. “It looks good on you, but on her…” He shakes his head. “It’s too grown up. Too…I don’t know…provocative.”

I lower my chin and glare at him through my lashes. “Cash, come on. She’s turning thir teen .”

“Exactly. She’s still just a kid.”

I put the necklace back, then plant one hand on my hip. “It’s not like I’m saying we should pay to get her bellybutton pierced and buy her a crop top. This is a simple, tasteful piece of jewelry.”

He growls and swipes both hands down his face. “Fine. Get it.”

My smile breaks free as I pluck the necklace off the rack and toss it into the basket hanging from his arm. “Perfect.”

“I want to get her more, though,” he says. “One necklace isn’t enough.”

“Okay, let’s look down here.” I direct him down the aisle where floral scented toiletries and candles line the shelves. “Girls love things that smell good.”

Cash stops in front of a row of bright and glittery candles. “All right. Which one?”

I wave toward the array of offerings. “You have to smell them to see which one you like.”

He scrunches his nose like the very idea offends him.

“Please tell me you’ve gone candle shopping before.”

His eyebrow piercing twitches as he levels me with a glare. “I don’t own a single candle.”

My mouth drops open. “You’re kidding.”

He shakes his head in response.

“That’s it,” I say, grabbing one off the shelf and lifting the lid. “We’re making you smell every single scent and you’re going home with a candle.”

“For Elyse.”

“Nope.” I shove the organic soybean wax-filled glass container toward him. “For you .”

As reluctantly as I would’ve expected, he leans forward and sniffs. “Not this one.” His face twists into a grimace, and there’s no holding back the laughter that peels out of me.

“All right, not this one.” We continue to smell the rest of the candles, and once we finally settle on a sandalwood coconut combo for him (go figure) and a fruity baked apple pie one for her, we take our purchases to the counter.

As we head out of the store, he turns to me. “I really appreciate your help. I honestly never know what to get her.”

“What’d you get her last year?” It’s clear he really did need my help, so I’m curious what he’s done in the past.

“I gave her money.” At my tsk , he raises his hands like he’s been caught. “I know, I know. Not great. But I knew that whatever I picked wouldn’t be able to top what I got her the year before.”

“Which was…”

He sighs. “I took her and Jules to a concert for her favorite band.”

Pain suddenly stuns me in place, especially since Cash looks absolutely innocent. He really doesn’t remember.

I roll my lips inward, fighting back words. Words that would slice through the easy friendship we’ve seemed to forge tonight. Words that would accuse and point fingers and lay my embarrassed heart on the chopping block.

So I don’t say them.

But I do realize that no matter how comfortable I become in Cash’s presence, I’ll never forget what we shared that night at the concert. And I’ll always be reminded that he didn’t—and won’t ever—choose me.

I’m forgettable .

So I mumble how nice that is, then hand Cash his bag of goodies for Elyse. “It’s been fun, Cash. Thanks for your help with the party stuff.”

His brow furrows at my abruptness but he accepts the bag. “Yeah, no problem.”

“Goodnight.” I walk to my car alone, just like the night we met. And repeat the same mantra I started in the party store. He doesn’t want me, he doesn’t want me, he doesn’t want me. And really, all the signs are saying that I shouldn’t want him, either.