I’m not sure how long I sat on that uncomfortable couch with the door open. Chilly wind whipped through, pushing the creaking oak back until the handle rhythmically bumped the wall behind it, but I couldn’t bring myself to get up and close it. I was numb to the core. From the outside in due to the cold and from the inside out due to Adam.
I knew what I felt was minimal in comparison to what I’d done to him. So fucking inconsequential. However, it still stung. A lot. Perspective sucked.
At six-thirty that night, my phone jingled, jarring me from my daze.
‘Veigh
We’re down at The Fill & Spill. Wanna come?
Who’s ‘we’?
Me. Wesley. Finn. Scott. Lucy said she might show.
I don’t think so.
Come on. You’re going to leave me for Sacramento soon. Please?
I slouched on the couch and groaned, knowing she was right. I could either have a pity party alone or I could suck it up and have a drink with my sister and brother before we all parted ways again. With Finn in college and Daveigh pregnant, I didn’t know when we’d have another opportunity to be together. Maybe never. No one got along with the momster, so she wasn’t a binding tie. Reluctantly, I stood up and got ready to head to the bar.
* * *
The Fill & Spill was half-empty that night when I walked in. Lucy was across the way, deeply engrossed in conversation with Santi. It wasn’t long before she noticed me. She flashed one of those annoying, dainty waves where she wiggled all of her fingers. It made me want to slap her. A few minutes later, Daveigh walked out of the bathroom and spotted me immediately, like a heat-seeking missile. She marched over to where I stood near the doorway. “Hey, can I talk to you for a minute?”
“What now?” I sighed. “I thought you wanted me to come have a drink with you guys. Or was that some kind of trap?”
Her lips tightened, the corners turning into a bleak frown as she placed her hands on her hips. “Didn’t I warn you about hanging around with Adam Rockwell? I saw you two at the funeral together. Surprised he had the balls to show up.”
“Well, that answers my question about your invitation being a trap.” I draped my jacket over my arm. “You warned me. But you forget I’m an adult.”
“Blue…”
“‘Veigh, you got knocked up by a guy named Beanbag. And don’t forget you used to date a Rent-A-Cop more than twice your age. Or should we talk about how you’re too afraid to tell ‘Mommy’ about the bun you’re baking? Tell me which part of what I said makes you an expert on giving out relationship advice?”
She closed her eyes and took a breath. “I know I haven’t always made the best decisions. But Adam’s bad news. I can feel it.”
“I think what you’re feeling are those pregnancy hormones again. Go eat some dill pickles and ice cream.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t try to be cute. He’s still bad news, no matter how you try to spin this.”
“Would you stop saying ‘bad news’? What if he’s not? What if you’re wrong about him, and you don’t know the whole story?”
Her eyes widened. “Shit! What if he’s using you for the money?”
“Slow it down and put away your detective kit, super sleuther. He’s not like that.”
“Well, speaking of money, what happened with Crenshaw today?”
“Hard limit.” I scanned the crowd. “Not talking about it.”
“You come in here defending Adam Rockwell after I told you what he did to Daddy, and you don’t want to talk about the giant lump of money he left you? Give me something to work with here.”
“Not now, Daveigh.” I rubbed my temples. “Maybe not ever.”
“We’re all owed an explanation. I don’t get it. Trust me when I say money isn’t my motivation here. I don’t care whether Daddy left me a nickel or five million dollars. All I want to know is why?”
“I don’t owe anyone anything. Look, I can’t…” I shook my head, solidifying my decision to keep my mouth shut. “I can’t say it without destroying lives. Can’t you accept that and be blissfully ignorant?”
“No. What did I ever do to shut you out?”
“It’s not what you did.” I looked her in the eyes while tears pricked at mine, hoping that would be enough of an answer to appease her. Why couldn’t she read between the lines? I felt like an angry beehive, and Daveigh was the curious kid holding a stick. Poking at me wasn’t a good idea.
Her voice grew louder. “You’re like talking to one of those magic eight balls sometimes. No real answers are—”
Beanbag walked up and halted our escalating conversation by stepping between us. “Is everything okay with you two?”
“Couldn’t be better,” I replied, my tone laced with sarcasm. I glanced toward Santi before walking away. “I need a beer or an IV of beer. A trough of beer. A beer of beer. Whatever.”
“Blue!” Daveigh shouted after me. “Would you listen to me?”
I didn’t look back as I headed up to the bar, realizing Adam sat next to the only open space nearest the door. Just my luck. I slunk down on the empty stool and remained quiet for a minute before I spoke. My voice was low. “Your coffee’s likely cold by now.”
He winced. “I know...I’m sorry…”
“Don’t apologize. It’s no big deal.” Fighting the bitterness in my voice was an epic fail.
He glanced at me. “Standing in that room, remembering the past, listening to you give some clunky speech, tripping over sentences about apologies, and that damn soap dish…I…”
The door to the bar jingled to interrupt. Zack walked in with Heather Miller attached to his arm. I watched him lean over and whisper something in her ear before she threw her head back in loud, chirpy laughter.
Exactly what I need to top off my night.
He scanned the room, his eyes stumbling when he saw me. Without words, he guided Heather to the only empty table in the bar—a two-top next to Daveigh and Beanbag.
“This trip gets better and better,” I mumbled.
As I looked away, I caught a glimpse of Daveigh. Her eyes did a double take when she saw who I was seated next to. She jabbed her index finger in my direction and whispered something to Beanbag before standing up. Anger and frustration flooded her face while she bounced over to where I sat. “Hey, Blue. Why don’t you come sit with us?”
“Excuse me? Did you forget about the argument we had?” I motioned between our bodies. “That was you involved, right?”
“Yeah,” her eyes flicked over to Adam and back at me again, “but I’d really like it if you hung out with us.”
Maybe my response was out of spite. Maybe it was out of annoyance. “Sure.” I smiled sweetly. “Come on, Adam.”
Daveigh stuck out her lower lip. “Bummer. There aren’t enough seats for both…”
“It’s okay. We can share,” I replied, tugging Adam across the room toward the table. “C’mon.”
“What’s going on with you?” he hissed. “I don’t want to hang out with—”
“I’ve had a real shitty day, Rockwell. Humor me and sit for a few minutes,” I commanded.
Adam puffed out his cheeks and sank into the only available chair.
I began introductions, “Finn, you remember Adam, right? And this is Finn’s boyfriend, Scott.”
Adam nodded at my brother. “It’s been a while. Long since before you left for college.” His focus turned toward Scott, shaking his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“You sure everything’s okay between you and your sister?” Beanbag asked Daveigh quietly.
My lip-reading skills were on point that night.
She slammed her purse on the table. “I swear to God, Wesley! If you don’t stop treating me like I’m going to break, I’m going to flip my shit.”
“Hormonal much?” I muttered.
One of the TVs behind the bar caught my attention, and it was like history repeating itself. “Hold on. I want to see what this is all about,” I replied.
The rest of the table fell into a conversation about a football game on an opposing screen, and I’d lost interest. An oversized image panned to Cash and Price Jensen in a follow up interview. Like last time, Price did all the talking while Cash sat there with a wide grin on his face.
Fortunately, the chairs nearest to me had been vacated by my brother and Scott who’d gone up to the bar for a refill. I sank down into the seat and set my tote bag on the floor without breaking eye contact with the screen.
Adam’s eyes trailed to the television and I could sense his mood darkening while he focused on their faces. “What is it about that asshole that captivates you so much?” he murmured to me. “You can tell by the way he looks and talks. Is it his inflated ego or the fact he’s a dick? Both qualities are charming.”
I froze. There was no answer to his question that wouldn’t ship me into a frenzy of tears. The air stifled my lungs as I took short, choppy breaths. Ignoring him was the simplest solution, but he made it damn near impossible.
“What is it,” he leaned closer, closing in on the distance between his mouth and my ear, “that draws you to Cash?”
The vibration from his voice sent a tingle through my core. I had no argument. Every word he spoke about my ex-boss and ex-arrangement was accurate. Yet my actions over the past two years left each syllable difficult to hear because they told a different story.
“Well?”
Santi broke up the tense moment long enough to deliver more drinks to the table. This time, he set an entire bottle of whiskey in front of Adam. “Owner said you looked like you needed this.”
Adam didn’t acknowledge the gesture of alcohol, his attention still fixated on me.
“I…” I shuddered. Heat radiated through Adam’s shirt as he leaned over my shoulder, my fingertips begging to reach over and trace the worn flannel. Holding back was like asking two magnets to not connect. He was close. Too unbearably close.
A hint of spearmint lingered in the air when he spoke again. “Tell me, Blue. Tell me right now. What’s so amazing about him? Give me a real answer and I’ll walk out that door right now, never questioning you again. I want the truth.”
“The truth?” Tears stung my eyes and I couldn’t bring my voice above a whisper. “Cash’s an asshole.” The lump in my throat grew tenfold. “Being with him was intentional. A constant, shitty reminder I didn’t deserve better. He’s the opposite of everything I had, I wanted, and I needed in you. Does hearing that make you happy?”
I turned in my seat until I faced away from him, blinking rapidly. “Please, everyone. Let’s hear your opinions on Cash. I’m sure each of you has one.”
Adam grabbed two legs of my chair and yanked, adjusting it to where I’d have no choice but to listen to the mounting rumble of his voice. “You suddenly want my two cents on Cash Jensen? That’s doubtful.” Adam poured a shot of whiskey and threw it back, grimacing before he set the glass on the table.
Lucy snickered, honing in on our dialogue. “Funny, Adam. I see what you did there. Cash. Cents.”
I kicked her under the table. “Don’t encourage him.”
Lucy looked confused. “What? It was funny?”
I stood up. “I need to pee.”
“No, you don’t.” Adam grabbed my arm to stop me. “In fact, I’ll bet there are a lot of topics you don’t want my opinion about.”
“Like what?” I spat.
He stood up, looming over me until our bodies nearly touched. The smell of alcohol on his breath rivaled the anger stirring behind his eyes. “Walk away, Blue. Get out of here. I don’t think you want to hear everything I have to say.”
“Try me,” I replied hoarsely.
He sat back down and counted on his fingers, his voice intensifying, “First off, let’s talk about their names. Who the hell names their kids Price and Cash? Let me guess, they have an aunt and uncle named Rich and Penny?” Adam laughed.
“Penny’s his sister, and Richard prefers to be called Dick!” I retorted without thinking.
“I’ll bet he does.” Adam snorted.
Damn it. I’d made it worse.
“Oh, shit!” Lucy hooted and smacked the table with the palm of her hand. “It’s hilarious because it’s true.”
“Look.” I rubbed my face and grabbed my tote bag. “I’ve had enough of this whole pick on Blue event I didn’t sign up for. It’s been great, but I’m leaving now.”
Without another word, I stormed toward the exit and let the door slam shut behind me. I tried to put in the effort of being with my siblings one last time, but I’d somehow fucked that up too. Maybe I was meant to be a loner. Isolation wouldn’t be judgmental. A blast of wind socked me in the face while I walked to the far corner of the building. The ground welcomed me as I sat down, the cold, wet pavement seeping through my jeans. None of it mattered. I drew my knees up under my chin and wrapped my arms around my knees. The harsh reality of the evening being abysmal took hold as it fought the constant, constricting ache in my chest.
A few minutes later, the door to The Fill & Spill opened, a momentary burst of loud music, laughter, and honey-tinted lights escaping before it creaked shut again. Without looking, I knew who stood twenty feet away and closed in on the distance between us.
“What do you want now?” I grumbled.
Adam sat down next to me on the cement with a groan. “Penny for your thoughts?”
“Ha-ha. No more Cash jokes tonight. Please?”
Elongated quiet permeated the air.
He let out a deep breath. “Fair enough. Truce?”
With defeat saturating me, I waited for the punchline, the smirk, or the asshole remark. But they didn’t happen. Only an outstretched hand was present. “What are you doing?”
“Someone once told me, it’s called a handshake. They’re commonly used in greeting or to finalize an agreement.” He paused before finishing what were once my words to him. “I thought it could be a fresh start.”
I bit my lip and hesitated, shaking my head. “I don’t think we—”
“Got it.” He pulled back abruptly, his tone icing over. “Message received, loud and clear. You know, I’ve got no damn idea how to read you anymore.”
“I know.” My eyes shut before I braved extending a sweaty hand. Each second felt like eternity while my heart begged me to run. Fast. I’d promised myself to never be in a position to be hurt again. But there I sat, the fortress beginning to fracture and splinter.
His palm met mine gingerly and I flinched. Adam’s touch was more painful than I imagined. Flashes and flickers of past filled my head; I couldn’t breathe.
“Tell me what you’re thinking. Let me in,” he said.
“I don’t remember how.”
* * *
Roughly Two Years and A Little Over Six Months Ago
“Fuckity fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” I closed the heavy door to the house and braced myself against it. My heart thudded in my throat as I tried to swallow it back down, nearly choking on the damn thing. Calm down, Blue. Everything will be fine. The pep talk didn’t last more than two seconds before panic mode set in again. “Mom?” I shouted.
Nothing.
“Shit.” I paced the darkened living room, thoughts bouncing through my head like a pinball machine. It was my fault, and I needed to find a solution. Fast. The problem was I couldn’t do it on my own. My hands were sweaty as I rubbed them on the back of my jeans; I felt sick. How could this happen?
“Well, it’s about time. We’re late. You need to wear the navy Versace dress with the Gucci heels,” a stern voice sounded from the top of the stairs.
The shiver began when I heard her descending the steps. As always, the icy sensation started at the base of my spine and clambered up to my neck, rendering me unable to breathe in a normal pattern. I was about to enter the lion’s den. The momster appeared, wearing a sensible, black pencil skirt, matching heels, and a white button-up blouse. A single strand of pearls completed her bland outfit. Her chestnut hair was cut into a dated bob, not a strand out of place. It did nothing to combat her valleys of frown lines or soften her expression.
Often, I’d wondered what it’d be like to have a normal mother. One who wasn’t obsessed with politics. One who cared about her kids’ interests. One who knew how to cook without burning water. One who didn’t pay off the high school principal to handle fudging test scores, ensuring 4.0 GPAs.
“Blue,” her shoulders wilted as she brushed imaginary dust off mine, “why aren’t you dressed appropriately? Flannel is for lumberjacks.”
“I like this shirt.” I glanced down at the red plaid pattern.
She lifted one of my limp curls with one hand and tilted my chin upward with the other. “You need an appointment at the salon, yesterday. And a full makeover isn’t a bad idea either. We have an image to uphold.”
“No, you have an image to uphold.” I swatted her hand away. “Mom, we need to talk.”
She fished around in her purse until she found a tube of frosty pink lipstick. It was less than fascinating to watch her apply layer after layer of the pasty mess. “Can’t it wait? You know I have a luncheon with the head of the education board today. A luncheon that you’re supposed to attend as my devoted daughter.”
“I need your help.”
She slid the top on the lipstick slowly until it clicked. “With what? You know this is a busy time of year with the election approaching.”
“There’s this guy I’ve been seeing for a while now, and—”
“Dear God. Are you pregnant? My ratings can’t handle a teen being knocked up, let alone the abortion I’d have to pay—”
“Mom! No!”
“Did he rape you? Rob you? Hit you?”
“No, no, and no.”
She set the tube down on the table. “Then, it can wait.”
“I really don’t think this can.”
She huffed. “What? What is the pressing issue then?”
I took a deep breath. “He was arrested and—”
“What?” she shrieked. “Do you know the ramifications this could have on whether I win or not?”
“This isn’t about you.”
“Who is worth damaging my reputation?”
I was quiet.
She arched an eyebrow, awaiting an answer.
“Adam Rockwell,” I replied quietly.
She scrunched her nose. “That…that deviant who lives in the shack on the beach?”
“Come off it. He’s not a deviant, and it’s not a shack. That house was left to him by his grandfather when he died.”
“I don’t want you hanging around that hoodlum or his dilapidated house. Rumor has it his parents disowned him. I can only imagine what foul behaviors of his warranted that type of banishment.”
I felt anger simmering in my veins. “He emancipated himself when he was sixteen because his dad beat the shit out of him on a weekly basis and his mom preferred heroin to feeding her kid. His parents didn’t even show up at the court hearing.”
“My tax dollars hard at work again in some way, I’m sure.” She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “And he was arrested for what?”
“DUI,” I muttered.
“A DUI? That’s a felony!” Her eyes bulged as she threw her arms in the air. “My opponent will have a flipping heyday if he knows you had any involvement...” She froze. “Does anyone else know about this…blip in your judgment?”
“It’s not a blip, but you’re close. It rhymes. Relationship. You can say the R-word. It won’t bite.”
“Oh, no it doesn’t. Not my daughter.”
“It does. And no, no one knows. We both work at Mario’s, and we didn’t want it to get weird with the rules on employees dating.”
“Good.”
“What’s ‘good’ about this? They’re holding him. He’s going to be given a year in prison. You know how strict the rules are around here. Can’t you pull some strings?”
Her laughter was condescending. “Me? Pull strings? It’s a waste. He could’ve killed someone.”
Little did she know it was my life in danger that night, no one else’s.
I gritted my teeth. “Was what he did right? No. But he did it to protect me. In turn, I need you to protect him.”
“He protected you from what? Alcoholics Anonymous?”
I swallowed. It was time to take the lion head-on with my bare hands, but I’d chickened out as quickly as I’d attained my courage. “When your…” I couldn’t finish the sentence, telling her about what Tom did to me. It was too difficult to relive. Saying the words out loud would make it real all over again.
“Look.” Her expression was stern. “The election is months away…”
“Fuck the election, Elana! That’s all you ever talk about, I swear. It’s more important than Daveigh or Finn. Or even me.”
The conversation didn’t sway; the most important topic was still evident in her eyes. “Is that what it’s going to take to make your tantrum go away and for you to go get dressed? This lunch is important, and I’m running out of time for your shenanigans!”
“You tell me,” I replied. “You have friends in high places, and I need help.”
I’d never used my mom’s location on the political ladder as leverage, until that moment. But I was willing to do whatever it took to keep Adam safe.
Her glare was toxic as she looked at her watch. “You’re really not going to let this go, are you?”
I locked eyes with hers and shook my head left and right.
She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’ll see what I can do, but you’re not going to see or talk to that trash receptacle again. And if I even catch you breathing his name before the election? I’ll be sure he’s given the harshest sentence possible. With no soap-on-a-rope available. Don’t forget I can make it happen. Judge Bledsoe and I are close friends.”
* * *
When I tried to pull back, Adam’s grip firmed while his thumb caressed the top of my hand. “Blue…”
It was too much. I yanked away. “Your turn. What are you thinking about?” my voice hitched as I fought to change the subject with glassy tears in my eyes.
He leaned against the wall, tilting his head back against the worn brick. “Part of me is anxiously counting down the days until you leave Steele Falls again.”
I sucked my lower lip into my mouth for a few seconds. “And the other part?”
He took his time in turning to look at me. “The other part of me knows if I don’t fight for—”
Tires squealing.
Engine revving.
Black and red blur whizzing.
Car door slamming.
“Blue?” a familiar voice sounded from across the street in the vacant gravel lot. Something about the situation didn’t make sense. The masculine voice I knew didn’t match the sleepy town. And then it dawned on me.
Fuck my life.
I looked at who stood outside an ostentatious red-and-black Ferrari, my fears confirmed. He set the alarm before leaving it behind. “Shit,” I muttered, watching in horror. This isn’t happening.
“Blue? Are you hurt?” he called out. “Are you okay? Is this guy hurting you?”
“What are you doing here?” I blurted as Cash hurried across the street.
“Unfuckingbelievable,” Adam said.
“Are you okay?” He rushed over to me. “You look pale, but I guess that’s normal.”
“I’m fine.” I stood up, brushing off the back of my pants with my hands. “Why are you here?”
“The card.” He furrowed his brow. “Remember?”
“What card?” I asked. “Have you been taste testing the office pharmacy cabinet again?”
“My credit card. You said if anyone used it, it was a sign you needed help. You know, the garden gnome thing? The flamethrowers?”
“I didn’t use your…Oh, God.” My eyes scrunched shut, and I thought back to when I asked Daveigh to use my card to pay the tab the other night. She wouldn’t have paid attention and must’ve grabbed the wrong one. I quickly fished it out of my tote bag and thrust it in his direction. “Here, Cash. I’ll pay you back. It was a misunderstanding—”
Cash looked down at Adam. “I’m sorry. We haven’t met. Cash Jensen.”
“The famous Cash.” Adam snorted, crossing his ankles. “Perfect.”
The fireball of Adam’s sarcasm sailed right over Cash’s head. “You’ve heard of me? Not surprising. I’m a big deal in the plastic surgery world.”
“That must be it,” Adam’s tone remained cold.
Cash extended his hand. “I’m Blue’s better half, her old balls and chain, her boyfriend.”
“You’re not my…I…I…”
Adam nodded and forced a fake smile accompanied with a knowing nod. “That reaffirms a lot, actually.”
Cash’s focus turned to me. “I booked a room down the street at the Wave Inn. Come stay with me.” He glanced at his crotch. “Mini Cash will be excited to see you.”
“What’s he talking about?” Adam asked.
“Mini Cash? It’s the nickname we call my—”
“It’s not what you think,” I cut Cash off. “We broke—”
“Oh! I almost forgot!” Cash snapped his fingers. “I swung by the sex shop and picked up the stuff I asked you to buy. I figured it’d save some time. Gotta clean the cobwebs of the ‘ol womb room.” His focus turned toward Adam. “It’s been a few days, if you know what I mean.”
“Wait. You two are still sleeping together?” Adam asked me under his breath. “Seems like an important detail to omit.”
I wanted to disappear as I tipped my head up toward the sky and groaned.
“Your lack of words says it all.” Adam patted the knee of my jeans. “Go. Be with your boyfriend. He can console you since I’m sure you don’t want to be alone right now.”
Nothing could’ve made the evening worse, or so I thought.
Wrong.
Seconds later, the door to The Fill & Spill burst open and Lucy stumbled out, her hands clamped over her mouth while she dry-heaved. It looked like a scene out of a movie. Her entire body made a crazed, jerky movement as if it were being exorcised from toe to head. She vomited, a stream and a splatter pouring over Adam’s jeans and onto the cement. The harsh smell of margarita and stomach acid instantly flooded the air. “I am so, so sorry, Adam.” She sank to her hands and knees to puke again. “No more tequila for me. Ever. It’s a bottle of Satan’s piss.”
“Well, this evening has been sobering in more ways than one,” Adam said as he stood up and frowned at the chunky clumps dripping down his pant leg. “It was nice to meet you, Cash.” He turned toward me. “Blue. Take care.”
“Adam, wait…” I called out as he briskly walked away. “Please!” But there were no words to bandage what happened. All I could do was watch and hope he’d look back at me, giving me a fraction of hope he cared. But he didn’t slow down.
“You coming to help launch the meat missile?” Cash hiked his thumb over his shoulder toward his car.
I turned to him and closed my eyes, trying to stay calm. “You should go back to California. I’ve got a lot to deal with here.”
“Blue…”
“Please.” I tried to walk away, but he grabbed my upper arm firmly.
“Wait,” he said.
“Believe me, you’ve caused enough damage.” Nausea sloshed in my gut, knowing those were the same words Adam doled to me on my first night back in Steele Falls.
“Just…let me talk to you for a minute,” Cash said.
“Haven’t you spoken your piece already?” I glanced down the street, but Adam was already out of view. “I tried to break up with you back—”
He let go of my arm, his voice soft. Different. “What’s it going to take?”
My face was warm with rage. “What’s what going to take?”
“Blue, I’m a plastic surgeon. And I’m a damn good one.”
“And not the least bit narcissistic.” I rolled my eyes.
“All it took was two seconds of me watching you from across the parking lot.”
I opened my mouth, but he cut me off.
“Let me finish,” Cash said. “Please.”
I pursed my lips.
“All it took was two seconds of watching you from across the street to see what makes you tick.” His eyes flicked up and toward the beach. “And it’s whoever just walked away.”
I looked at him and narrowed my eyes.
“Don’t get upset at me for calling you out on the truth.”
“I—”
“I fix people for a living. Everything they don’t like about themselves—I improve. You’re the one person I haven’t been able to repair, and that’s been so aggravating.”
I placed my hands on my hips. “I’m not broken.”
“Don’t lie to yourself. Do you think this is the real me?” He gestured toward his face. “That I can be this much of an ass?”
“Um. Yes.”
“C’mon. I’m not arguing that I don’t have my dick moments. I’m a guy.”
Silence.
“Blue, think about it. I sang Mambo Number Five while we were having sex. I’ve mentioned your weight countless times and used every sleazy sex euphemism I know. Who does that?” He let out a breath through his nose. “Look. For a long time now, I’ve wondered what it’ll take to get real emotion out of you. Fuck. I’ve tried everything imaginable. Treated you like shit. Forced myself to be a minute man in the bedroom. I even pressured Price to lay you off from Jensen & Jensen. All of it was to try to get you to crack. And I finally saw a little bit of that happen tonight…but it wasn’t for me.”
My shoulders wilted slowly.
“I wanted to see the emotion that lives behind those gorgeous blue eyes. My cock maneuvers were amped up to the max to get a rise out of you. I honestly don’t know what more I could have done. None of it worked.”
I opened my mouth and was cut off yet again.
“Do you know why I hired you?”
“My D-cup twins?” I replied, looking down at my chest.
“No.” He laughed. “Don’t get me wrong. You’ve got a great rack, but that’s not why I brought you on at Jensen & Jensen. I saw a flicker of something in you I hadn’t seen in a long time. It was innocent and beautiful and genuine. You were someone who didn’t care about my money and didn’t want lipo done on them for dirt cheap. You didn’t want any part of my place in the Sacramento spotlight. And I wanted to get to know that person.”
My jaw fell and he held a finger to my lips.
“But these walls of yours have been impossible to scale. After a while, it became an obsession to break you down and figure you out. I failed.”
I looked down at the ground.
He tilted my chin upward. “I thought I loved you, but tonight I realized I was wrong. I was in love with a concept—fixing a broken heart. And for whatever the reason, you craved the negativity I created. I wanted to repair you so badly, but I didn’t know how. And then,” he glanced toward the beach, “I saw the answer. He was here less than two minutes ago. For what it’s worth? I’m sorry I got you canned. I can talk to Price and tell him everything if you want to come back.”
I was speechless. Cash was the last person I expected to teach me a lesson, especially one that was so pivotal about myself. Every word he spoke struck home in the worst way.
“I don’t think I can ever go back.” I blinked, unsure if I meant go back to Sacramento or to the person who I’d been for the past two years. Hell, maybe I meant both. “Everything we had was fake. For both of us.”
“I get it. You know where to find me if you ever change your mind and want to get to know the real Cash.” He looked down at me and cupped my face in his warm hands before giving me a chaste kiss on the forehead. “Bye, Blue.”
Much like Adam, he began to walk away, vanishing while leaving with an echoing numbness of his own.
“Cash, wait!” I called out, emotion choking my voice.
He stopped and turned around, a glimmer of hope spelled out on his face. “Yeah?”
My voice hitched and my nose burned, knowing it was likely the last time I’d ever see or speak to him again. “Do me a favor? Look after Otis?”
There was a hint of disappointment behind his eyes. “Who? The old guy in the parking garage?”
I nodded.
“Who do you think bought him the sleeping bag?” He gave me a last of his signature winks before turning to leave.
This time, I didn’t stop him.
That was my first glimpse of the real Cash, and it hurt watching him walk away. How could a stranger be so important and so irrelevant to me at the same time? I was left standing alone on the sidewalk with heavy thoughts. He was right. I’d made myself unattainable by keeping everyone at bay. Friends. Neighbors. Men. Family. As he sped off in his Ferrari, he didn’t look my direction.
An even bigger question had reared its ugly head in the wake of his speech. What happened to the real Blue? I’d bottled her up the moment I’d left Steele Falls. Trying to pour all of me out in the past few days? It hurt so damn bad.
Tears burned my eyes over Cash’s departure as I stood alone. So much time was wasted, both of us doing a complex dance of chasing and avoiding ghosts for nearly a year. It was up to interpretation as to who led and who followed. But none of that mattered. Not anymore. He’d been brought into my life for one reason: to teach me how to let go.
Once again, perspective sucked big, hairy balls. I needed to evict Cash from my thoughts. There was someone I needed to talk to, and he was due all of my attention. With determination fueling me as I stood outside the door of The Fill & Spill, I buttoned my jacket and prepared to tackle one of my most intimidating demons.
As I was about to take my first steps toward clearing that hurdle, the door of bar flung open again and a bulky frame collided into mine, knocking me to the ground.
“Shit. I’m so sorry.” And then his tone changed when he glanced down at me lying on the sidewalk. “Oh…it’s you.”
“Yeah, well thanks for the informal plow down.” Bits of rock had embedded themselves in my palms. My flesh stung, but it didn’t combat the fear pouring through my veins. Instead of hunting down my demon, he’d found me instead.
No one could make the next move except for me.
“Beanbag.” I choked back tears. Don’t be a sissy and run, Blue. Prove you can do this. With every ounce of courage I had, I pushed myself to my feet and looked him in the eyes. “I’m ready to talk.”