That was a yucky way of putting it. “No! No, it’s not like that.”
“Then what’s it like?”
I nibbled my bottom lip and tried to figure out the right way to explain what I meant. This would be a super good time for an uprising, by the way. Or an apocalypse of some kind? An alien invasion? I wasn’t picky. Any world-ending scenario was fine with me.
“I work an impossible schedule,” I explained more carefully. “I’m just saying, I have no time in my life for commitments or obligations. I have to get Bianca back on her feet. I have to figure out how to run a kitchen by myself. I’m just trying to be good at my job, pay bills, and find time to go to the gym. It’s not you, Vann. I think you’re amazing and so funny. You’ve helped me in so many ways. I just don’t want to… get your hopes up.”
I wanted to snatch all those words out of the air and shove them back in my mouth. God, could I be a bigger idiot?
Wasn’t I the same girl that couldn’t keep her shit together all weekend? And now I was turning down the only good guy I’d been around in years, maybe even my entire life, just because my work schedule was busy?
I wanted to slap my hand over my face, but I resisted the urge.
Besides, my heart knew the truth. It was currently calling me a liar.
It wasn’t my schedule that was making me take a step back from Vann—it was fear.
I was terrified of him and what kind of relationship he wanted. It obviously wasn’t the one-night stand variety. Or the slip me a roofie and take advantage of me kind. That launched us firmly into uncharted territory and I just wasn’t ready to tackle another new thing.
He smiled, but it was forced and shadowed. “I get that. I’m busy too. I wasn’t… I hope you didn’t think we were like a thing. Obviously, it was one night. I’m just saying, it was a good night. If you ever have the night off, we should do it again.”
My heart squeezed painfully. This was what I wanted, I reminded myself. This was how I was with dates now. I tried them once and then I ran—usually before the check arrived. And I was okay with that.
So why did it feel so awful now?
And why was I such a fucking psycho who couldn’t make up her damn mind?
He leaned in and kissed my cheek. “Have a good night, Dillon. Good luck tomorrow.”
Now he was brushing me off? But isn’t this what I’d asked for? I had made this bed. Now I needed to lie in it. “You too, Vann.”
He stepped away from me mid-song and I wanted to cry at the loss of his body heat. Why had I said all of that? Why couldn’t I just recognize a good thing when I had it and shut up for once?
He started dancing with the mouthy girl that had bumped into me before. He might not have wanted to dance with her earlier, but now he seemed to be having a great time.
I tried to make the best of the night after that, but the magic of the wedding had been crushed beneath my frightened foot. I danced with friends and stayed until Vera and Killian said their goodbyes and then snuck out the kitchen entrance, so I didn’t have to talk to anyone else.
By the time I stumbled inside my apartment, exhausted and frayed, I was glad it was all over. Vann wasn’t close enough to be in Ezra’s wedding, although he might go. But other than that, I wouldn’t have to see him anymore.
We would officially go our separate ways, which would completely uncomplicate my life and give him the freedom to do whatever he wanted.
I could finally relax.
I could finally focus on my job and stop obsessing over him.
Which was exactly what I did as soon as I laid down in bed.
Just kidding. I tossed and turned all night and eventually fell asleep out of sheer, battered exhaustion.
Fifteen
“How did the weekend go?”I asked Blaze as soon as he walked through the door to Bianca Monday morning.
His eyes widened and he took a step back as if I’d scared him. I was too tightly wound to pull back. I had spent the morning on the treadmill at my apartment, going over the weekend numbers and his notes.
He wasn’t the most verbose person out there and so there wasn’t a lot of detail about the weekend. The numbers had been within the recent averages—which wasn’t the best news ever, but they weren’t worse. So, there was that.
“Morning, Chef,” he greeted, being polite where I clearly failed. “It’s good to have you back.”
