Larkin stormed out of the restaurant, leaving an uncomfortable silence in her wake. The buzz of the crowd around me became nothing more than white noise as I turned to stare at Taylor, trying to figure out how this could be the same girl I’d met just a few months ago. The girl I could have sworn had sunshine and rainbows coming out of her ass.
The girl I’d foolishly been thinking about for the long term.
“That was way harsh, Tai,” I said after a long moment, trying to keep the anger I was feeling from seeping into my tone.
“My name is Taylor,” she snipped. “Taylor, Tay.” She crossed her arms over her chest, turning her face away from me. “Not Tyler.”
“And apparently you’re the only woman under forty who hasn’t seen Clueless,” I muttered, dropping enough cash on the table to cover the bill and a generous tip. Then I swept Larkin’s money off the table and stuck it in my pocket. I wasn’t sure when or how, but I’d get it back to her. Number one, because it really did not feel right to make her pay for that train wreck of a meal.
And number two, because it would give me an excuse to see her again.
“What did you say?” Taylor snapped, swiveling her head around and flashing me a scowl.
“Never mind.” I sighed, feeling suddenly exhausted. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”
Because I was still a gentleman, I helped her on with her coat, opened the door for her, and gave her a hand into my Jeep. But I didn’t say a single word to her for the blessedly short ride to her house. I could barely even look at her.
How had this night gone so completely sideways in such a short time? Not even a couple of hours ago, I’d been standing on Taylor’s front porch, excited for the night ahead. Now, I felt tired, guilty, and mad as hell. At her, at that asshat Harry, and most of all at myself.
If I’d just put a stop to this earlier, when I’d answered the door to find that sweaty little gnome on the other side, then none of this would have happened. My first instincts had been correct: that walking pit stain had no business being anywhere near Larkin. Or any other human being, for that matter.
I’d fucked up. I should have shooed him out the door like the rodent he was. I should have protected Larkin from the nightmare of his very existence. But instead, I’d felt so guilty for the sudden, intense connection I’d felt with her that I’d swerved too far in the opposite direction, adopting a mind-your-own-business policy that benefitted no one.
And it didn’t matter that she’d held her own, sparring with Momma’s Boy like a pro. She shouldn’t have had to.
I would make it up to her. I didn’t yet know how, but I would make it right.
When I pulled up in front of the tiny house on the quiet, beachfront street that Larkin and Taylor called home, I turned the car off quickly. Then I shifted to face Taylor, intending to break it off as nicely as I could.
“I don’t think we should see each other again,” she said, before I could even open my mouth.
I stared at her for a beat, surprised that she’d beaten me to the punch. “Oh.”
She gave me a winning smile, like she was trying to make me feel better. But now it seemed fake, and I wondered why I hadn’t seen it before. Or maybe I was just seeing what I wanted to see, letting my anger with myself color my perception of her. Maybe this really was an anomaly for her, acting like an insensitive jerk.
“I’m sorry,” she continued when I didn’t answer. “I know this must be hurtful, but I really think it’s for the best.”
I cleared my throat. “I agree.”
That seemed to surprise her. “Excuse me?”
I nodded. “You’re absolutely right. We’re no good for each other.”
Her mouth opened and closed several times, like she was trying to come up with the right words. While she stewed on it, I took the opportunity to exit the car, round the hood, and open her door. Mutely, she took my hand, letting me help her down. When we were once again standing next to each other, she gave me a hard, searching look. What she saw must have pissed her off, because she sashayed across the overgrown lawn, her long legs eating up the worn flagstone path and carrying her onto the porch before I could catch up with her ever-changing moods.
She stopped in front of her door, whirling to face me. Her blue eyes were narrowed in anger as she finally spoke.
“You’re breaking up with me?”
What the hell? Was she actually mad at me? I took in her hard eyes and angry frown. Christ, she really was. She was mad at me. For agreeing to break up with her. An idea she brought up first.
I could have laughed at the absurdity of this conversation – this whole fucking night – if I wasn’t so exhausted.
“We’re breaking up with each other, Taylor,” I pointed out. “It’s mutual.”
“But you want to break up with me,” she repeated. “You think it’s a good idea to not date me again. You think I’m… I’m undateable, or something.”
I ran my hands through my hair. I so did not want to have this conversation right now. Or ever, really. But she was standing there, arms crossed, glaring at me like she was expecting an answer. After a moment, I blew out a long, frustrated breath.
“Look, Taylor, it’s not you,” I said, sounding about as tired as I felt. “You’re great, but I just don’t think we’re meant to be.”
“You’re just saying that to make me feel better,” she accused. “You don’t think I’m great. You’re trying to placate me.”
I shook my head. “No, I mean it.”
The words were out of my mouth before I even realized I was thinking them, but they felt right. I thought again about everything that had happened tonight, about everything she’d said and done since I’d met her. She was a sweet, thoughtful person. And she might have gone about it in the wrong way, but I believed she really cared about Larkin, and just wanted her to be happy again.
She gave me a long look. “Really?”
I nodded. “Really.”
She looked relieved, and I wondered briefly what that was all about. Had she really been worried about being ‘undateable,’ as she called it? She was practically a walking wet dream. Hot, smart, and genuinely nice? She’d have no problems.
“I do have to ask, though,” I added, because it had been bugging me all night. “Why that guy?”
She gave me a guilty-looking frown. “It was an accident!”
I raised an eyebrow. “An accident?” I repeated, not understanding how a date that had been on the books since Tuesday could be an accident.
“I was trying to ease her back into the dating scene. We used to go on double dates all the time,” she explained. “Larkin and Daniel, and me and… um, okay, a lot of different guys.” She waved an arm dismissively. “Whatever. I go on a lot of dates.”
“Okay,” I said slowly. “I’m still not understanding how this was an accident, then. Especially if it’s something you’re used to doing.”
“Well, I’ve never had to find a guy for her.” She sighed. “They were high school sweethearts.”
“Football games, study dates, prom king and queen, yadda, yadda, yadda” I supplied, because I could just picture it. Larkin and the guy with the caramel skin and dark eyes I’d seen in that photo were a good-looking couple, I’d give them that.
Never mind that I was irrationally jealous of a dead man.
“No, I was prom queen.” Taylor snorted. “Larkin was nominated, too, because she was friends with me. But she stole the ballot box and crossed her name off all of them.”
I chuckled. That sounded more like the Larkin I’d just met. “Good times.”
“Yeah.” Taylor let out a sigh that told me she carried a lot more weight on her shoulders than I might have expected, and I wondered how much she struggled under that everything-is-awesome persona.
“I was trying to find a really great guy. Someone who would catch her interest. Someone who would… I don’t know, wake her up, you know?” She frowned. “But then I got distracted by…” She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. It’s just, this morning came around and I realized I hadn’t found anybody, and I sort of panicked.”
“And Harry was the best you could find?” I asked, not really believing it. We worked for an engineering firm; even in this day and age, when women were making huge strides in STEM fields, our office was a total sausage fest. There had to be a dozen guys in my department alone who would jump at the chance to go out with Taylor and her friend.
And every last one of them was a hell of a lot better than a sentient mustache, let me tell you.
“I just sort of… ran into him. Like, literally ran into him, running for the elevator.” She looked sheepish. “He seemed really put out. He kept rubbing his shoulder like I’d hurt him, and I just felt so bad. So I asked what I could do to make it up to him, and he insisted I go out with him.” She looked up at me. “Obviously, I already had plans with you, so I just kind of… redirected him.”
I frowned. “You could have said no, Taylor. You don’t owe anybody a date, especially someone like that. And especially not for something as trivial as bumping into him on the elevator.”
“I know that, okay?” She shrugged. “I don’t like to let people down.”
I sighed, not bothering to point out that she’d really let her best friend down tonight. She felt bad enough as it was.
“Besides, it seemed like a good idea at the time! He seemed harmless. And the more I thought about it, the more sense it made to ease her into the dating scene. I didn’t want to intimidate her with someone too good, you know?”
I shook my head, because I really did not know what she meant. If anyone deserved someone ‘too good,’ it was Larkin. But Taylor was clearly upset, so I decided not to press the point.
“Obviously it backfired.” She let out a sad whimper. “He was a nightmare, okay? I can admit that now.” She sniffed. “And the worst part is that it pushed her further into her shell. She hates me now.” She looked up at me. “You hate me now. Everyone hates me. I’ll end up alone and miserable.”
“You will not end up alone.” I shook my head again. “And I don’t hate you. You’re a sweet girl, Taylor,” I added, giving her a long look. Oddly enough, considering how actively I’d pursued her for the last few months, I didn’t feel any pangs admitting that. She was definitely the whole package – but for someone else.
My words seemed to take the wind out of her sails. Some emotion flitted over her face, something that looked almost like guilt, as she sank down on the porch swing. “I’m not a sweet girl,” she whispered, like she was confiding a secret.
I sat next to her. “I’m sure you’re just having a bad night.” I patted her knee awkwardly. “That’s all this was.”
She shook her head. “No. I-” She cut herself off, chewing her lip. Then, with a deep breath, she turned to face me. “I was using you.”
I frowned. “Using me?” I repeated slowly, like the words didn’t make sense.
Because they didn’t. I mean, I was not an egomaniac, and I definitely wasn’t the kind of asshole who walked through the world thinking every woman wanted him. I knew from experience that attraction is about more than just looks. Sometimes two people just don’t have that chemistry, that electricity.
Like when you touch someone’s hand and it feels like lightning charging through your veins.
But I really thought Taylor and I had clicked. She laughed at all my jokes, she was interested in every story I told her, she listened avidly when I talked about the things that interested me, she…
Jesus. I stopped to listen to my own thoughts, and I was floored by how douchebag-y I sounded. Me, me, me.
I stared at her, staggered by the realization of my complete and utter self-absorption. How had I never realized that our relationship had been entirely one-sided? I’d never once stopped to think about her motivations for going out with me. I’d just taken her interest for granted, and what was worse, I hadn’t even bothered to get to know her in return. In fact, now that I stopped to really think about it, I realized that every single thing I liked about her was rooted in the fact that she liked me.
Now who was the insensitive jerk?
“It’s true,” she replied, pulling me from my self-flagellation. “I was using you to make someone else jealous. I…” She trailed off, muttering to herself. “I thought I could forget… wanted to get over…”
She huffed in frustration, then stared at me for a long moment, her expression shadowed in guilt. Finally she stood, pacing over to the front door.
“Look, I’m sorry,” she said, turning back to face me. “I’m really sorry. I behaved horribly tonight. All week, in fact. I was leading you on.” Her big blue eyes pleaded with me. “Will you forgive me?”
I nodded, feeling dazed by the complete one-eighty this conversation had taken. “Of course,” I said automatically. Because I don’t hold grudges.
And besides, it wasn’t like I was innocent in all this, either. When I hadn’t been focusing on myself, I was making eyes at another woman.
Taylor looked relieved. “Thank you.”
That shook me out of my stupor, finally. I shook my head. “It’s me who should be apologizing. I never really treated you the way you should be treated. I didn’t even try to get to know you.”
Also, I think I have a crush on your best friend.
But of course I didn’t say that, because I like having balls. Even nice girls went nuclear when their friends dated their exes.
She laughed, and it sounded kind of bitter to me. “That’s not your fault. Apparently I don’t let anyone get to know the real me.” She looked up at me with blue eyes that looked sad. “I don’t even know if there is a real me.”
And with those enigmatic words, she went into the house, leaving me standing on her porch, more confused than I’d ever been in my life.