“Go away, Cade.”
“This apartment isn’t that big; please remember that.”
Cade’s complaint grows distant as he walks away, and when the front door slams, Jenna and I burst out laughing.
“In all seriousness, was he good to you?” she asks, her expression turning almost motherly.
“He was. That’s always been consistent with Zane. I’ve never had to question that.”
“But he left without telling you? Did he leave you a note?”
“No, but honestly, I don’t mind. He shouldn’t have even been here. He was supposed to fly home with his team last night. I’m sure I’ll hear from him later.”
“Good, because as much as I like him, I need you to remember why you broke up with Nathan. Communication is key.”
I internally cringe.What am I doing?“Zane and I aren’t a couple, Jenna.”
“Not yet.” She bounces her eyebrows and I roll my eyes.
We can’t be a couple. I just split up from my long-term boyfriend. That would be crazy…
Right?
I’m halfway through breakfast when Cade comes back, his face red, sweat pooling on his forehead.
“Jesus, where did you go? The sauna?”
“I went for a run.”
“In jeans?” My eyes widen at the thought and he scoffs.
“It’s what I was wearing. I needed to clear my head, and I couldn’t risk seeing you again before I did.”
“Do we need to talk about the birds and bees? When a woman hits maturity, she needs certain things and—”
“Fuck. Stop.” He covers his ears. “I’m not in denial about you having sex, Blair. Although I wish you’d have waited until you were thirty like I asked you to all those years ago. I’mworriedbecause you just broke up with your boyfriend, and I’m not sure you’re thinking clearly.”
“Are you referring to the boyfriend you hated? Because I would have thought you’d be over the moon about me ending things and quickly moving on.”
“I didn’thatehim.”
With my arms folded over my chest, I lean back in my chair and stare at him unmoving. There’s no way I can dignify that bullshit with a response. Not unless my response is my knee in his balls.
“Okay. Okay.” He holds his arms up in surrender. “I hated him. But I tried really hard to be civil.”
“When?”
“At Christmas and birthdays.”
“You refused to speak to him. You avoided him like the plague.”
“That was me being civil, Blair. If I had my way, we would have spent all of those events with my fist pounding his face. There are some things you don’t—”
I groan, jamming my palms into my eye sockets, hoping he’ll stop. We’ve had this argument so many times, I honestly don’t know why I brought it up again.
“That part of my life is over, so it’s time to move on. But—”
“Good. You de—”
