“Right.” Becky nodded. “And then you get a text message, and suddenly, you look like you’re sucking on a lemon. So what gives? Who was that?” She flicked a greasy finger at his cell phone.
He considered prevaricating or telling her it was none of her damned business, but what would be the point? She would find out eventually. He hadn’t exactly kept it a secret that he was supposed to meet Samantha for lunch.
“It was Samantha.” And just saying her name opened up another fissure in his heart. “She canceled on me.”
Becky lifted a brow. “Why? Did something happen to burst all those heart-shaped balloons flying above her head?” She pointed her lollipop at him. “What did you do?”
“M-me?” he sputtered. “Why do you assume I did something?”
“Um, because you’re a man, that’s why.”
“Is this one of those sisterhood situations or rules or something?” He frowned at her.
“Huh?”
“Never mind.” He ran his fingers through his hair, inadvertently hitting the bandage over his stitches. The wound itched like a bitch. Soon, it would be completely healed, and he’d have nothing to show for those two crazy, amazing days with Samantha but a thin scar and the memory of her beneath him, above him, teasing him and tormenting him and giving him more pleasure than he’d ever known. Even though she claimed to have forgiven him, he got the feeling this missed date was just the first of many missed dates to come. She was in the business of disappearing from his life. He recognized the signs. “The truth is I was an ass to her, okay?”
Becky’s chin jerked back. “You? I don’t believe it. You’re never an ass to anyone.” She shook her head. “No. Wait. I take that back. You’re a smart-ass to just about everyone. But I’ve never known you to be intentionally cruel.”
“I was to her.” When he replayed his words to Samantha, he felt sick to his stomach. His father used to lash out. Sometimes he had stumbled into Ozzie’s bedroom in a drunken rage and slurred, “She was fine before you came! This is all your fault!” Later, when his father was sober, he would apologize. But the sting of his words never went away.
And I’m becoming more like him every day. Eaten up by self-pity and remorse. Unable to do anything about it.
“So did you…” Becky hesitated. “Did you apologize for being an ass?” She eyed him quizzically.
“Yep. In every way I know how.”
“But she’s still pulling away from you?”
He shook his head. “She was pulling away from me before that. Her pulling away was what precipitated my assholery.”
“Hmm,” Becky said.
“Hmm?” He made a face. “That’s all you got for me?”
“I just don’t understand it. I thought she was frickin’ ass over tits for you.”
“Please.” He snorted.
“Hmm,” Becky said again, and he was beginning to hate that word.
“Such is my lot in life.”
“So what are you gonna do about it?”
“What can I do?” His thigh chose that moment to send a shooting pain into the base of his spine. “I’ll give her up. I should be good at that by now. I’ve had to resign myself to giving up a lot of things, especially recently.”
“What do you mean?” Becky’s brow furrowed.
He hadn’t realized where this conversation was going, but it was a destination he had known he would need to reach eventually. Why not now? Everything else is falling to shit. Might as well get this over and done with.
“I mean this.” He waved a hand to indicate the shop. “I mean us. All of us.”
“Not tracking.” When Becky shook her head, her long blond ponytail shed metal shavings like sparkling silver confetti.
“Come on, Becky.” His voice was hoarse. He didn’t think his broken heart could hurt worse, but… Oh joy! I sure love surprises! “You can’t bullshit a bullshitter. We both know my leg is about as good as it’s going to get.”
She glanced down at his thigh. It was covered by his jeans, but he felt like she could see the mangled flesh beneath. “So?”
