20

Britta

I knew having Cash cart me around for my party errands would end up being a mistake. Any time we spend alone together is a mistake with the way my heart wants to fall at his feet and beg him to keep it forever. It’s getting harder and harder to forget how our relationship started—the make out I so badly wish I could forget.

Especially when he feeds me cake and licks the fork I just so happen to be hold i ng clean.

I press a hand to my fluttering midsection and will the feeling away. There’s been this non-top queasiness that hasn’t left me since Tuesday. Every time I replay Cash’s actions at the cake shop, and then my subsequent rejection, I’m convinced I’ll toss up my lunch.

To say that things got awkward after I bolted out of the shop is a huge understatement. I kept my eyes fastened on the road ahead of us and rambled about literally whatever popped in my brain. Pretty sure I started talking about the difference between fuchsia and magenta. Honestly, it’s all a blur now. All I know is that he never brought up what went down at the shop. Not even when he dropped me off at my apartment.

I melted onto my bed the second I crutched up to my apartment alone, going over my stupidity again and again.

He asked me— finally asked me —to go out with him. On. A. Frickin’. Date.

But it was two years too late.

So much lays between us now that we’re a part of each other’s lives—our friends, his family, even a soon-to-be, brand-new baby godson. And that doesn’t even include our past interaction that he still can’t remember!

How can I go on a date with him? That he asked me now only proves the fact that he wasn’t initially attracted to me—that I had to grow on him for him to want to ask me out.

Sure, maybe he’s attracted to my irresistible personality. But…I want more than that. I want sizzling attraction from the get-go, fireworks when we kiss, and the kind of banter that keeps life interesting. I want love and trust and commitment. I can’t say yes to a real, romantic relationship if even one of those things is missing. I’m done ignoring the red flags that wave themselves at me. I’m done succumbing to manly wiles and looking like an idiot in the end.

No. With Cash, I will hold my ground. Even if it withers my poor, love-forsaken heart in the process.

Which is why when he offered to pick me up early so I could decorate his house for the party tonight, I refused. Politely, of course, because I can’t, in good conscience, be rude anymore. Not after he put himself out there like he did. I may be a brat sometimes, but I’m not heartless.

So here I sit with a dumb boot wrapped around my ankle and foot to keep it protected enough for me to walk without crutches next to Liss, my new driver. The woman who is so pregnant her belly hits the steering wheel.

“You seem kind of off tonight,” she says, peeking over at me. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

I let the long sigh that’s just been waiting to drain out of me slip through my lips. “I’m fine.”

“Is it the boot?” she asks. “I think it’s cute.”

“It’s not the boot.”

“Oh, come on, Britt. I can tell something is up with you.” She flips on the blinker, then levels me with a glare that says I’d better just give in to her while she waits to turn left. “Did I do something to make you mad? You know I can’t stand the silent treatment.”

Guilt eats at me. “No, you didn’t do anything. I’m sorry for being a butthead.” I turn to stare out the passenger window, silently debating what to tell her. She doesn’t know about my and Cash’s make out. She doesn’t even know that I’m lowkey obsessed with him. All she knows is that we’ve been spending an awful lot of time together lately between me renovating his office and planning Elyse’s party.

Maybe it’s time to fess up.

I release another sigh. “Cash asked me out.”

She gasps, then makes the turn. “For real? Oh my gosh, that’s huge!”

I resist the urge to roll my eyes, and tug on a loose thread on the hem of my shirt. “Is it?”

“Um, yeah,” she says with a little laugh. “From what A.J. says, he’s like one step away from becoming a monk.”

My loud, obnoxious cackle echoes through the car. “Oh, come on.”

“I’m serious. A.J. told me Cash hasn’t gone out with a woman since his ex broke his heart almost two years ago.”

Regret and guilt mingle together, causing my stomach to knot tighter. “Oh…I…I didn’t realize.”

“Yeah.” Liss shakes her head. “A.J. said he was a total woman-hater for a while. Shunned every woman but his sister.”

The sudden urge to cry wells within me, but I swallow it down. I hate that he went so low after a heartbreak. Hate that I—realization sweeps over me.

“You said he was with her two years ago?”

“Mmhm. That’s what A.J. said. I mean, he told me when we were dating, but it’s been about…I don’t know…at least two years ago, I think.”

That means their breakup must have been relatively fresh when we kissed after the concert. I press a fist to my stomach, pushing hard to ward off the sudden ache.

“So how did he do it? What did he say ?” Liss’s excitement is palpable as she rapid-fire’s questions my way. “I mean, I know you guys have been together a lot recently.” She glances my way. “Wait, why do you look like you’re about to be sick?”

Shaking my head, I fight back the array of mixed emotions welling up to the surface. “Because. I turned him down. And now I feel…” I look down at my hands. “I feel bad knowing it took him so long to work up the courage to ask another woman out.”

Liss turns onto the street that leads to their neighborhood. “Don’t feel bad. You can’t force yourself to be into someone you’re not. Although…” She trails off and lifts one shoulder. “I gotta say, he seems like he’d be your type, Britta.”

A tear leaks out against my will. I face the window again as I discreetly try to wipe it away. “Yeah. He’s…” A shuddery sigh escapes me. “He’s a good guy.”

Liss is silent until we reach Cash’s house. She parks in his driveway, turning to face me as much as she can with her baby belly in the way. “Britta, what’s going on? You’re not acting like yourself.”

I blink and force my watery eyes into submission before I face her with the biggest smile I can manage. “I’m fine. I just started my period today.” At least that part is true. “And I don’t know. Things with Cash are just…weird, I guess. There’s been some stuff that’s happened—”

“What stuff ?” she cuts me off, voice hard.

“Listen.” I grab her hands and give them a squeeze. “I love you. You and Viv are my best friends. But you don’t need to worry about me. I promise that once I’m post-period and my emotions are back to normal, I’ll tell you about what’s been going on. But right now, I’ve got too much to do to sit and stew.”

She eyes me with a heavy dose of wariness. “You promise we’ll talk about this in a few days?”

I nod. “Just let me get past this party and self-medicate with chocolate for a bit.”

Her smile turns softer. “If you’re going to drown yourself in chocolate, I want in.”

I laugh as I pull her into a hug. “You know A.J. would never let you in the state you’re in. I saw him pry that candy bar out of your hands at the gender reveal.”

“Ugh, he’s so mean right now.” She scrunches her nose, and without a hint of shame, uses her fake-man voice to mock him. “You have to be careful, Bliss, or you’ll fail your glucose test.”

I pull back, trying not to laugh. “To be fair, it was your fifth one.”

She frowns and rubs her belly. “Listen. Ace wants what he wants.”

I’m still fighting back laughter as I exit the car and wave her goodbye, but I’m also dreading the coming conversation I know we need to have. It’s not fair that I’ve kept my friends in the dark about Cash. But embarrassment makes a woman do things she might not normally do just to save face in front of those she loves.

I hop toward the house on my crutches, taking deep breaths with each stride. The only good thing about having Cash run me around this week was that he brought everything for the party back with him so I wouldn’t have to haul the stuff around.

Nothing like an injury to force a stubborn woman to rely on the one man she’d rather kick than let carry her.

Nope. That was the old Britta , I remind myself.

I no longer have the desire to kick Cash in the shins. Now I want to hug him and apologize for the way I’ve been acting. But that would probably put me right back to where I was before, daydreaming about kissing him. Then I’d demand an explanation for why he’s forgotten about me, and we’d be back to square one.

I sigh, stopping once I reach the door. There’s little hope we can ever be anything to each other now. There’s too much to have to explain, too much rejection and hurt feelings between us to overcome.

I knock three times and wait. Footsteps sound just before the door pops open. “Hey.” Jules smiles and swings it wide.

“Oh, hey. I thought…I mean, I didn’t expect you to be here this early.”

She stands back and gestures me inside. “I took the day off. Work has been busting my butt lately. Plus, I wanted to be here to help for this.”

Smiling, I hobble over the threshold. “Well, we’ll be glad to have some extra help.”

“It’ll be just the two of us,” she says absently. “Cash took Elyse out shopping under the guise of wanting to buy her a gift she’ll actually like. He isn’t the greatest with gifts.” She chuckles. “The new plan is for us to text him when everyone gets here. Elyse thinks we’re going to meet here for dinner and a movie.”

I nod and follow her, even while the sick feeling permeating my middle spreads. I want to believe that Jules put this new plan into motion, that she really did want the day off, not that Cash wanted to avoid me and changed the plans himself. And if he’s buying a new gift… Does he suddenly hate me so much that he won’t even give Elyse the gift we picked out together?

“Want some coffee before we get started?” Jules tosses the question over her shoulder.

I force a chipper tone. “Yeah, I’d love some.”

She heads to the coffee pot and pulls two identical black mugs from the cupboard before pouring the coffee. Cash’s kitchen looks exactly the same as the last time Viv and I forced ourselves into his home. Black cabinets, sparkling black countertops, black appliances…

Catching me staring, Jules smiles as she hands me the steaming mug. “It’s a bit masculine, isn’t it?” Cradling her own cup, she lifts her gaze to the kitchen walls. “I tried to get him to add some color somewhere, but he wasn’t having it.”

I take a sip of coffee, closing my eyes and humming at how good it tastes. “This space could definitely use some color. Maybe even some open shelving and updated appliances…”

Jules chuckles. “Spoken like a true interior designer. You sound ready to redecorate.”

Heat flushes my cheeks. “Well, I guess I sort of am. Would you believe he asked me to help him fix this place up?” Unless Cash changes his mind. I wouldn’t blame if he did. I’ve been awful lately.

With the way Jules’s eyes widen, I wonder if I said the wrong thing. “No, I honestly can’t. You must’ve done a beautiful job on his office.”

I carefully lower the mug down onto the counter. “Some might call it beautiful, but don’t tell him I said that.”

Jules laughs before taking another sip of her coffee. “He’s a stubborn one. But I’m glad he’s finally willing to ask for some help.”

“I’m always willing to lend a hand.” I fake a lighthearted smile that goes completely against my rising panic. Why did I share that with Jules—his sister ? The way she’s eyeing me over her mug like she suspects something is going on makes me squirm.

“He seems to like you,” she says shrewdly. “Which says a lot. Cash has sort of”—she hikes one shoulder—“avoided all women like the plague since he broke it off with his ex.”

Ah, yes. That lovely little ex I keep hearing all about.

“And how long ago was that?” I find myself asking, if only to verify Liss’s calculations.

Jules sets her mug down, too, before staring off into space, brows pulled tight. “I wanna say a little over two years ago? It’s been a while.” She waves a hand between us. “Anyway, I just think it’s cool that he’s letting another woman into his space. And who knows.” Jules’s eyes light up with a twinkle I wasn’t expecting to see while broaching this topic. “Maybe even into his life.”

I breathe a laugh through my nose. “Uh, I think you’re misunderstanding the nature of our relationship. We’re just friends. Well, sort of friends. I think.”

She gives me a long, slow nod. “Ah. I see. Not into all the tattoos?”

“No, it’s not that. He’s very attractive.” Too attractive. “It’s just that I’m not dating hot guys right now.” As soon as my words fill the air, I wince. But of course, my slow brain can’t come up with anything else to further explain my nonsensical comment, so I keep my mouth shut.

“Huh. Okay.” Jules takes another long sip of her coffee, probably to avoid having to engage with me again since I just spouted utter nonsense. And called her brother hot.

“All right, well.” I clap my hands together. “If you point me in the direction where Cash put all the shopping bags, I’ll go ahead and get started with the decorating.”

Jules leads me to Cash’s bedroom and the large walk-in closet where he’s stashed all the bags. “Everything should be here, but if something is missing, just let me know. I have to make a quick work call, and then I’ll join you.”

She leaves me standing in the center of Cash’s bedroom, alone. And of all the things there are to look at in this cool, gray room, my eyes want to cling to the most taboo thing of all—the man’s immaculately made king-sized bed.

I lumber toward it, suppressing the urge to run my hand along the top of the comforter, or worse, under the comforter to feel what sort of sheets he has. A woman can tell a lot by the thread count of a man’s sheets.

Backing away with my fingers crossed in an X, I bypass the dresser and spin toward the closet. But this is no safer. Cash’s shirts and pants line the space, from casual athletic wear to fancy suits. And the shoes. Shelves full of sneakers of all kinds, dress shoes, boots, and sandals line the lower half of the closet.

How have I never noticed that the man likes shoes?

It shouldn’t be a turn on. But seeing as I like shoes, too…

With a stern shake of my head and a mental reprimand, I direct my focus to finding the bags.

There, tucked under a shelf on the far wall, are a bunch of familiar shopping bags. Dragging them out of their hiding space, I riffle through them to make sure we’re all set. Once I’m positive we’re not missing anything, I straighten.

Cash’s shirts call to me like sirens call to unsuspecting sailors. Except I’m a total suspect, guilty of wanting to touch Cash’s things. Like the weak woman I am, I answer the shirt-siren’s call and run my fingers over one particularly soft looking button up. It’s blue and black plaid. Like lumberjack plaid, my absolute favorite. I trail my hands from the shoulders to the pockets, all the way down. If I close my eyes and use my exceptional imagination, I can almost pretend he’s wearing it. At last, I lean forward and press the impossibly soft material against my nose, taking a big, long sniff.

“Find everything okay?” Jules calls.

I pop out of Cash’s closet like I wasn’t just sniffing his shirts and playing pretend. “Yep, all good!” I quickly grab the bags and meet Jules in his bedroom. “There are a bunch more in there if you want to grab them.”

Hustling as fast as I can in this dang boot before she realizes what I was doing, I breeze back into the living room and do what I came here to do—decorate.