Rhett
This sucks, but you can get over her.
Rhett
You just need to dust off your spikes and face another inning.
Rhett
And go shower. I’m sure you stink, and I don’t want to smell you over my minestrone.
The wry chuckle leaving my mouth takes a small amount of tension with it. Leave it to Rhett to pull me back from the edge with baseball metaphors and insults. Getting over Alex won’t be that easy, but he’s right about one thing…I do need to take a shower.
Chapter 20
Tenny
In an attempt to not dwell on my situation without Rhett as a sounding board, I rush through my shower and arrive at the cozy seaside diner twenty minutes early. A frigid blast of air cuts through my hoodie and jeans as I yank on the front door. There’s hardly anyone in the quaint restaurant, probably because the ominous gray-black clouds are scaring patrons away. In my mental haze, I forgot my phone, so I can’t check to see when the sky will open up.
After murmuring a hello to the young hostess, I ask for the back corner booth.
“I’m sorry. I just sat someone there,” she tells me as the phone rings on her host stand. “Just pick whichever table you like.”
As she answers the phone, I trudge toward the recesses of the restaurant. I’m not really in the mood to be recognized today, and unfortunately, I forgot my hat. Best to stay as close to the kitchen—and the back exit—as possible.
My heart lurches into my throat when I find a familiar blonde head bowed over a menu atmy table.For half a second, I want to turn and sprint to the front door like I’m legging out a double and the outfielder’s arm is a missile. Then a smoldering heat burns behind my breastbone.
Alex can make me look like a heartless womanizer by throwing my failed dating history in my face, but she can’t smear my name on national television andthen alsosteal my table.
“What are you doing here?”
Alex glances up, her mouth popping open in surprise before all her features harden. I used to love the way her brown eyes narrowed, but now her glare only ignites indignation. She pulls her oversized cardigan tighter around herself like a shield.
“What’s it look like?”
I lean over, pressing my palms into the sturdy hardwood. “It looks like you’re stealing my favorite table.”
Alex rolls her eyes before fixing them on the menu. “Not now, Tenny. I’m having a bad day.”
“You’rehaving a bad day?” I scoff. “What about me?”
“Did your favorite bed warmer bail on you?” She tilts her head with a fake pout. “Too bad.”
My forehead wrinkles. What the heck does that mean?
“Look,” I say, deciding to blow past her remark. “All I want is to eat soup in peace.”
She folds her hands primly on the tabletop. “All I want is to never talk to you again, yet here you are.”
A breath punches from me at the venom infused in her words. The ache I’d been carrying around since watching her segment spikes into dozens of needles, jabbing into my muscles.
Alex’s gaze traces my face, her lips and shoulders softening in what might be regret before she tucks it away like a loose strand of hair.
“Leave.” Her command hits me like a bat to the chest, but I don’t let it show this time.
My fingertips flex on the table. “I have just as much right to be here as you.”
“Fine. I’ll leave.”
