“I saidno, Austen.”
I unlock the car and tug the door open, but he catches it, slamming it shut. I look up, glaring at him.
“Please,” he says, his voice shaking. I grit my teeth, furious that he’s going to pretend to be hurt about this. He has no fucking right to be upset about this. I’m the one who should be upset! But I’m not. Not any more. I got over all this a long time ago. Now I’m just pissed. But fuck, he looks so hurt and I hate that. Even if it isn’t called for.
“Let me take you to dinner,” he says. “Or breakfast. Have you eaten yet?”
“Yes,” I say, lying.
He narrows his eyes. “About having eaten… or dinner?”
“Nice to know you haven’t changed,” I answer, turning to him and crossing my arms. “Still a smartass.”
He grins, shrugging.
“I think you left your stuff inside,” I say, gesturing to the building.
“They aren’t important. I’ll get them when we’re done.”
“We are done.”
“No, we’re not. I understand you’re mad, and I get why. Really, I do. And even if you don’t forgive me for what happened, that’s fine. But please give me the opportunity to explain.” He gazes back at me with sincerity. “I mean, it’s been seven years, Cam. Let me get this off my chest.”
Oh, so what happened between us has been bothering him, has it? Good. I’m glad I haven’t been the only one hurting over here. Even though he has no reason to be upset at all, since I’m not the one who did anything wrong. He’s the one who accused me of taking advantage of him. There’s no way in fuck I am going to forgive him for that. But because I’m a nice guy, I guess I can allow him to get it off his chest. Maybe then he’ll leave me alone.
“Dinner at seven,” I say. The relief that falls over his face is shocking.
“Thank you,” he breathes out.
“Don’t thank me yet,” I say, knowing there’s a chance I won’t show up. “I could change my mind.”
He’s frowning again.
“Luigi’s okay?” I ask, picking one of the most expensive restaurants in the area, mostly to be a dick.
“Absolutely. I’ll make reservations.”
I look him over, noting the dark bags under his eyes, and the fact his eyes aren’t quite as blue as they used to be.
“Yeah, you do that.”
I pull open the car door, this time he doesn’t stop me. So I drive away with a pit in my stomach, knowing damn well I am going to show up for dinner.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Austen
I stare at my reflection in the mirror, feeling more nervous than I’ve felt in a long time.
I know it’s just dinner. It’s just two old friends catching up, or more accurately, one old friend begging for forgiveness. My phone sits beside me on the grand sink in the master bath, its presence like a living, breathing entity.
All day, since I ran into Cam, all I could think about was texting him.
He hadn’t said he needed a ride, and I would have asked if he hadn’t just stormed away from me in such a hurry.
I get the feeling that asking Cam if he needs something is a one-way ticket to being iced out rather quickly. Which is whyinstead of asking for permission, he can just add my picking him up without a heads up to the list of grievances he’s got stacked against me.
I know it’s probably a long list at this point.
