God, this killed.
“It’s for a dance I’m helping out with. Planning,” he continued.
She glanced to the stack.Jase and Heather Love Dancewas written in black Sharpie, the date, time, and details underneath.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked. Why couldn’t they just be done? Why did it have to hurt so bad to look at him?
“The thing is, I think it could work out between us.” He pushed the stack toward her.
She gripped the blanket tighter, unable to do this. Not again. “No, we tried it, it didn’t.”
“Then let’s try again.” He set his hat on the sofa and braced his arms there. “And again. Until we get it right.”
If he wanted to play, she’d have to play. It didn’t matter; the game they’d played to start this whole thing always ended with heartbreak. But if he wanted to do it once more…what the hell. “Your family would get involved. Things would get messy. We’d both end up resenting each other.”
He, apparently, wasn’t going to let it go so simply. “See, my grandmother might get involved. But she’s kind of fun and she’s got a good heart.”
“And she’d crash her Buick into my cookie delivery van.” In a fit of elderly, misplaced rage.
His expression gentled. “It’s okay, I’d promise to buy you a new one.”
“Then she’d decide she’s going to work for me.” Despite her best efforts, Heather’s chin trembled.
Dammit, she didn’t want to change any of this. And yet, she wanted to change all of it.
“And you’d take her to lunch at Pistol Polly’s.”
“You’d be furious.” Maybe she should look at the posters. She pulled them to her. He’d drawn a little drawing of two stick figures next to the words he’d printed.
“I’d get over it.” He didn’t touch her, but his hand inched toward where she sat.
“This is the sweetest thing I think I’ve ever heard,” Claire said to Velma.
Velma shushed her.
“Then we’d end up at a casino with her and her boyfriend.” Heather only had eyes for Jase. The outside world didn’t matter, it was just the two of them.
“I think we should skip this part.” The edges of his lips twitched.
“We’d end up at your apartment.” Her body warmed, like a switch she’d turned off earlier flicking back on.
“That’s when the fun would start.” His hand crept close to hers.
She released the blanket. Sat taller. “After which, you’d be ready to break up with me.”
“But I wouldn’t, because I’d realize what I had was worth fighting for.”
Did he mean that?
“Then your family would get involved again and everything would go to hell.” She glanced to the hardwood. This was where it would end. This was where things would fall apart.
“After my family fucked everything up, I’d politely tell them to fuck off. Then I’d come to you in my dress whites and ask you to forgive me for being an idiot.”
Her breath caught. He’d told his family to fuck off?
She kicked her legs over the edge of the sofa, her head in her hands. “I know you think I’m strong, but I can’t keep doing this. I want forever, but I want it with someone who wants what I do.” A tear trailed down her cheek. Twice in one day. What the hell? She batted it away with the back of her hand.
“If you aren’t ready to hear it, and you aren’t ready to do it…” His voice went husky. Effectively breaking her heart and her resolve. “I’ll ask if I can come back every day until you are.”
