“Cashton,” he tried.
I dug my heels into the floor, enjoying the show. “Nope.”
“Cashwell.”
“Try again.”
“Cash-mere.”
I scoffed. “Definitely not.”
“Cashflow. Cashanova, Cashadelic.” He snapped. “Cash machine.”
All four of us chuckled.
“No, no, no, and no. It’s Cassius. Like Brutus’s friend in Julius Caesar.” I scratched my beard. “Women like it when you learn the little things. Like their kid’s name.” My head bobbed. “And when they don’t see your face staring back at them from a magazine in the grocery store checkout line with the headline: Ford's Flings Outnumber His Hit Singles!” I clicked my tongue. “They like that too.”
Ford ignored my dig, glancing at Holden and Silas. “Y’all knew Cash’s name was Cassius?”
“Yeah,” Holden said.
Silas smiled. “Yep. But it would be pathetic if I didn’t. Clem and Peyt are best friends. Clem was in the delivery room when Cash was born.”
“Let’s try something else,” Holden said. “What’s her favorite band?”
Ford shrugged, a cocky smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “Double Dubs. C’mon, give me something hard.”
“She hates your band,” I said. “Despises. She says your fake accent sounds like a cat trying to yodel underwater.”
Silas choked on a laugh. Ford glowered, finally a little humbled.
“Don’t take it personally. She doesn’t like any country music.” I shrugged one shoulder. “It’s 5SOS.”
“A boy band?” Ford said like it was disgusting.
“She loves boy bands,” Silas said. “Cried for days when The Jonas Brothers fell apart.”
Ford’s hands went up, resting at the back of his head like he was king of the world. “Nah. She just says that. She secretly loves us. Probably listens to every one of our songs and thinks I wrote ‘em about her.” He nodded at me. “I don’t know why we’re talking about me and Peyton anyway.” He grinned like saying their names in the same sentence meant they were a done deal. “I’m not the one who needs help fixing his love life. Ash-tonishingly Average over here needs all the help he can get. I’ll fix my own. It’s only a matter of time before I wear her down.”
“Wear her down? Do you even hear yourself?” Holden shook his head. “But…” He swung his attention to me. “Chevy’s not wrong. We need to fix your…situationship.”
I jammed my hands into my hoodie, sick to death ofthis pointless conversation. “There’s no ‘ship. There’s not even a friendshipleft.”
“Dude,” Ford said. “You don’t share a smokin’ hot kiss like that unless there’s some kind of ‘ship. She has feelings for you. Stop telling yourself she doesn’t.”
“He’s right.” Silas kicked at the ground.
“C’mon, man, you have to admit that’s true,” Holden added. But I didn’t. Clearly, they saw the kiss differently. All I saw was a big fat humiliation sandwich with a side of supersized guilt.
Ford opened his fat mouth to start back up but I couldn’t take anymore. Didn’t want to have this conversation ever again.
“She used me!” my voice cracked. “That’s all it was.” Three people turned to look at us. “It wasn’t some unspoken confession of feelings,” I hissed. “Or a passionate moment with hidden meaning, okay?” I’d thought it was at the time and I’d been beating my head against the wall trying to figure out how I’d read her so wrong. “She wanted a way out of her engagement and she got it,” I seethed. “You’reidiotsif you believe otherwise.”
The three of them stared at me, saying nothing. They knew it was true.
Silas’s gaze shifted over my shoulder. Holden and Ford’s followed. I turned and immediately deflated. The barre class was over. A stream of women were making their way into this side, probably to find their husbands or boyfriends. My distraction-free time with my brothers was up.
Christy came through the door and Holden took off like a whipped puppy.
