“I do deserve better. You’re right about that much.” She bit her lip, as if weighing how much to say, but then she pressed on. “I thought after what we’d shared, you might start to see you deserve better, too. But you have to reach for that happiness and look forward to find it. Maybe you need to start seeing me for what I have to offer and not just as another vulnerable woman in your life who might get hurt.”
Her words peppered his chest like a series of arrows, stinging even after she became quiet again. Rubbed raw inside, he didn’t have a clue what to say to make things better. She was one hundred percent accurate about him not being able to look forward.
Yet, as she collected her things and moved toward the door, he found himself going with her. The searching look she gave him over one shoulder told him what she was thinking. Was he walking her to the car because he wanted to be with her? Or to make sure she was safe?
Damned if he knew for sure himself.
Chapter Seventeen
Sarah bypassed theliquor store.
Funny how sitting in the parking lot and waiting to find a guy to buy her drinks had seemed daring and grown-up a couple of weeks ago.
Now? She felt ten times more grown-up for keeping her distance. Anyhow, it’s not like she ever really needed the drinks. She merely enjoyed the attention they brought her when she got to a party. Here in Heartache, she had attention. Erin looked at her as more than just a kid on the verge of a breakdown because her mother died. Erin saw her as a person with a life that wasn’t just defined by one god-awful moment. It had felt good talking to her about the past and her old house. It felt good having a friendship with Ally Finley and rooting for her mom to fix her marriage with Ally’s dad.
Sarah’s father might still only see her in momentary flashes between the old bouts of grief, but in Heartache, it didn’t hurt as much, because there were other people who paid attention.
Circling the village square in her car, Sarah searched fora free parking spot and realized she’d have to do a bit of walking. She should have left the B and B earlier, but she’d taken extra time to look her best.
She’d also spoken to her counselor about the new turns life had taken, and for once, she didn’t feel like a fraud when she got off the phone. She’d been honest. Amazing how much it helped to have told her father about the letter from Brandon. She’d deleted her Twitter account like the police suggested so “lockeduplove47” couldn’t find her. The cops seemed to think “Becky” was Brandon’s girlfriend.
Ew.
Pulling into a free space on a street two blocks from the park, Sarah texted her friends to see if someone would walk with her. Dad harped on stuff like that constantly, and in her effort to be better to him, she figured it couldn’t hurt to wait five more minutes. A reply came faster than that, though.
Flash your lights so I can find you.
Lucas.
Warmth tingled along her skin, heated and shivery at the same time. She turned her light on and off quickly then stepped out of the car. Already, she could hear his footsteps as he jogged toward her on the darkened street.
“I’m going to be ready for track season you’ve got me running so much, Sarah.” He sped past a streetlamp and she could see him vault over a fire hydrant, the reflective stripe on his tennis shoes catching the light.
“Nice!” she called, locking the car behind her. “Your hurdle form isn’t bad, but your speed could use some work.”
He slowed to a stop in front of her. Only now did she notice that he really could be a runner. He had the lean strength of a track athlete and he hadn’t broken a sweat. Wasn’t breathing hard, either.
“I’ll let my hurdle coach know you approve.” He took both her hands in his and looked into her eyes in a way that made her insides melt a little. “But I paced myself so I wouldn’t be sweaty for you. I’m hoping I can convince you to take a turn on the dance floor tonight.”
“Really?” She stroked her thumbs over the backs of his broad hands and admired how nice he looked in cargo shorts and a polo shirt with wide blue stripes. “Are you sure you know how to two-step?”
The back street was quiet even though it was packed with cars for people who were at Lucky’s tonight.
“You’re asking a Tennessee boy if he can two-step? New Girl, you’re showing your Miami side.” He hovered closer and she remembered how good his kisses felt.
“I’m a Cajun first and foremost.” She let go of his one hand and pirouetted under his other arm. “I was at thefais do-dowhen I was old enough to walk.”
“Is that right? You’ll have to catch me up on your bayou-speak, Cajun Queen.” He leaned in close enough to nip her lower lip. Gently. Slowly.
She had to gather all her defenses to keep from kissing him senseless in return. Just because she wanted to take her time and get to know him better didn’t mean it was going to be easy.
“Fais do-do.” She pronounced it slowly. “It’s a dance where the mamas leave their babies in the sleeping room off the dance hall so they can dance all they want.” She stepped away from the car, keeping hold of his hand. “I’ll tell you more while we walk.”
“You’re awfully sure I’ll follow you,” he said in her ear, the sound tickling all the way down her neck.
“No. I just hope you will.” She was nervous about telling him she wanted to slow things down. What if he was mad he’d broken up with his other girlfriend?
He held out an arm like a real gentleman so she could take it. Maybe because she’d worn a dress tonight? She felt special. Pretty. Talking to Erin had made her think maybe she could go to school in the fall and no one would be the wiser that she’d screwed up her senior year.
