Sawyer eyes me skeptically. “Guess that explains why you’re going out with Tommy tonight.”
Yes. “No. Tommy’s my…well, friend. Sort of. We’re still taking it slow.”
“So slow you went from hanging out every day to not seeing him for almost two whole weeks,” Sawyer points out.
“I’ve been studying,” I defend, despite knowing the truth.
The truth being I’ve been waiting for Jace to get his act together. But he’s not…so it’s time to move on.
Sawyer and Mrs. Dickinson exchange a glance.
I wag my finger at them. “Stop that. I’m not using Tommy to get back at Jace. I genuinely have feelings for him.”
They just don’t come close to the feelings I have for Jace.
Mrs. Dickinson clicks her tongue. “Put silk on a goat and it’s still a goat.”
“Tommy isn’t a goat.” Opening the glass cabinet, I cut the slice of banana bread Sawyer ordered. “Are you sure you’re not giving me grief because you want him?”
I regret the words the moment I see Sawyer’s hurt expression.
“No. I told you it didn’t—”
“I know.” I place the bread in a pastry bag. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m just…I guess part of me realizes it’s wrong to string Tommy along, but I’m not doing it to be a bitch. I’m doing it because I really want things to work out between us. I’m tired of being stuck on Jace’s messed up merry-go-round. For once, I’d like to see what it’s like to have someone treat me like gold and give back as much effort as I put in, you know?”
Sadness lines her features. “Yeah, I get it.” Rising on her tiptoes, she smacks a kiss on my cheek. “I’ll be at choir rehearsal tonight, but I’ll text you after I get out. I want to hear all about your romantic date.”
“It’s not that romantic,” I inform her. “We’re just grabbing some ice cream and going to the docks to talk.”
“Sounds pretty romantic to me,” she says with a sassy smile before walking away.
I hold up the bag. “Don’t forget your banana bread.”
I attempt to hand it to her, but Mrs. Dickinson snatches it away. “Banana bread is not her favorite.” She turns her fierce gaze on me. “Did we run out of éclairs?”
Oh, brother. “No, but that’s not what Sawyer asked for.”
She tsks. “Customers rarely ever get it right. You’re not supposed to give them what they think they want. You’re supposed to give them what they really want.”
Here we go again. And she wonders why sales start to dwindle every time she’s running the front counter.
Sawyer snatches the bag back from her. “What I really want is my banana bread.”
“You’re not a banana bread kind of girl,” my boss protests. “You, my dear, are an éclair. Sweet, unique, and doug—”
“Maybe I don’t want to be an éclair anymore,” Sawyer growls before she storms out.
“People change, Mrs. Dickinson. Sometimes what you thought you wanted doesn’t cut it anymore.”
She eases a tray of cupcakes into the oven. “Nonsense. No matter how much you change, you’ll still arrive home with one arm as long as the other.”
“I think the Knights are going to the playoffs this year,” Tommy informs me.
“That…” I pause, unsure what to say since the Knights are technically his rival team. “Sucks?”
He laughs. “Yeah, it does. But I’m pretty sure we’ll be in the playoffs too.” His eyes hold mine. “If—or should I say when—that happens, will you go to the game?”
“Yeah.” I scoop some ice cream on my spoon. “I’d like that.”
More like tolerate since I don’t particularly like football, but either way, I’ll be there.
His lips curve. “I missed you. I’m glad you texted me earlier.”
I place my bowl on the dashboard of his car. It took us over an hour to get here, but the view of the marina at night is totally worth it.
“I missed you too.”
Like one would miss a nice pair of cozy socks.
As opposed to the missing-an-essential-organ way I miss Jace.
Tommy drums his fingers on the steering wheel. “Look, I gotta ask you something. You can tell me it’s none of my business, but I’m really hoping you tell me the truth.”
I sit on my hands to stop from fidgeting. “What do you want to know?”
“A couple guys from RMH were at Christian’s party two weeks ago.” His eyes cut to mine. “You know, the same one you were at when you broke things off with me.”
I’m not really sure where he’s going with this. “Yeah, I remember.”
His nostrils flare. “Well, my buddy said you left the party with Jace after he yacked all over Britney.”
“Okay.” I chew on my thumbnail. “It seems like you got the play-by-play from your friend, so what exactly is your question?”
His eyes blaze. “Did you fuck him?”
Wow, okay, that’s none of his business.
Words strike me silent. I have no idea how to answer him, because I don’t owe him an explanation in the first place.
“You did.” His jaw works. “Your mouth might be closed but your face is an open book.”
If that’s the case, he seriously needs to work on his reading comprehension.
“I didn’t fuck him.”
I don’t know what to make of the look he shoots me. “Suck him off?”
“Excuse me?”
He blows out a breath. “Look, I’m not trying to be a dick. I just don’t want Jace Covington’s sloppy seconds.”
My cheeks burn. And here I thought Tommy was a nice guy. “I’m not anyone’s sloppy second, asshole.”
His face goes slack, as if the idiotic thing he said just dawned on him. “Shit. That came out wrong.”
He tries to cup my cheek, but I turn my head. “Please take me home.”
He grabs my face with both hands. “Look, I’m sorry.” Sincerity swirls in his dark orbs. “But he doesn’t deserve you, Dylan. Not like I do.”
He’s right. But the heart doesn’t choose who we love by their worth.
Because love isn’t a choice.
It’s an illogical, all-consuming consequence that results from someone stealing a vital piece of you.
And I wish like hell Jace would give me my piece back.
He drops his forehead to mine. “Give me a chance. I’ll make you so happy.”
“You not making me happy isn’t the problem.”
“Then what is?”
“I don’t know,” I tell him honestly. “I’m fucked up, I guess.”
I have to be, because why else would I choose the guy who keeps hurting me over the guy who wants to make me happy?
Closing my eyes, I plant a kiss on his cheek. “I wish I wasn’t. I’m sorry.”
It shouldn’t be this hard. Jace or no Jace, I shouldn’t have to force myself to feel more for Tommy.
I also don’t want to ruin his opportunity to meet the love of his life when I’m certain it’s not me.