Truly Madly Deeply: Chapter 46

“All I Want for Christmas Is You”—Mariah Carey

The Christmas lighting in the town’s square was the grandest event in all of Staindrop. Even as a kid, I remembered it as a monumental occasion.

There were always food trucks, visitors from neighboring towns, a countdown, and one time the mayor had even managed to bring an actor who body-doubled for Sharon Stone to flip the switch.

Skipping didn’t even cross my mind. Even though seeing Allison Murray always guaranteed an internal meltdown for me. The only reason I’d survived Row’s town hall meeting with her sitting up there on the podium was because Dylan had held my hand through it.

But Mamushka loved seeing the lights go up, and she’d knitted us matching red-and-green mittens for the occasion. Besides, Dylan had gotten the all-clear from her ob-gyn to attend, and I knew she wanted me there.

“Your father came to me in a dream,” Mamushka announced as we strolled toward Main Street. Our arms were linked, and we were wearing big faux-fur ushankas and puffy coats.

“He did?” My mouth quirked into a smile. “What did he say?”

Mom pressed her lips together, fighting a grin. “Know how I’ve been debating whether to start my mitten business or go back to teach another year?” she asked.

I nodded. Mamushka taught math at the local high school.

“Well, I didn’t tell you this, but when we went to spread his ashes in Moxie Falls, I asked him to give me a sign. Something to let me know it’s time.”

“And?” Our feet crunched the thin layer of ice on the pavement.

“And when you went to pee behind the bushes, a feather landed in the palm of my hand. I tucked it into my bag. They say that when feathers appear, angels are near.”

It was just like me to miss this monumental moment because I’d overindulged with a venti pumpkin spice latte and nature had called.

Mom continued. “The feather felt meaningful, but I couldn’t tell for sure. Well, yesterday, in my dream, your father told me it was a stork’s feather. And that storks represent new beginnings. Like the one I should have. I googled stork feathers and compared the one I kept. It matched.”

We both stopped on the corner of the street. We were still a few feet away from the crowd milling around the square. Food trucks, generators, and people were everywhere. There was a big red button hooked up to a generator barricaded by orange construction barriers.

“What are you saying, Mamushka?” I squeezed her fingertips.

“I’m saying I want to quit and sell my mittens. I’m saying I’m opening an Esty shop. If you could help me, that is. You know I’m useless with technology.”

“Etsy.” I grinned. “And it’d be my honor. We’re going to open you one first thing tomorrow morning, and I’ll even take pictures of your inventory. Make it look legit.” I was pretty good with Photoshop. Had taught myself in college. I was sure I could make her something presentable.

“Thank you. What about you?” She frowned. “When will you record your podcast?”

“Soon, Mom,” I lied. Again. “Very soon.”

“You know, when I was your age, I really wanted to be a news reporter.” She smiled grimly. “Your father and I had already moved to Staindrop. I got accepted as an intern for a local newspaper. I said no.”

“What? Why?” I hadn’t even known Mom had wanted to be a reporter. It fit her much more than being a math teacher, though.

Mom shrugged. “The possibility of failing scared me more than the prospect of succeeding thrilled me. I was a scaredy cat. I didn’t want to get hurt. Another opportunity didn’t come along. In fact, I was too scared to even apply to anything else. So I just took the job I thought I deserved and went along with it. If there is one thing I can guarantee to you—your dreams don’t wait around for you to get to them. That’s why it’s called chasing a dream. We keep running out of time. Don’t postpone for tomorrow what you can do today. You’re brilliant, passionate, and hardworking. Run after your dream, Callichka. Or you’ll never catch it.”

She opened her arms, and I stepped into a Litvin hug. Usually, it was a three-way hug with Dad, but for the first time since he’d been gone, the space he had left didn’t feel like a wound between us.

“Lookie here! It’s my BFF and her MILF!” Dylan’s voice singsonged from behind my shoulder. I turned around to look at her. She was wearing a huge, rainbow faux-fur coat I had made for her when we were teenagers, hot pink heels, and a pair of skinny jeans. She approached us with her mom holding her hand to keep her balanced.

“What’s a MILF?” Zeta frowned with suspicion.

“Mother in lovely fur!” I said with flourish, gesturing to Mom’s coat.

“Now, that’s a nice abbreviation.” Zeta snapped her fingers, pointing at me. “I think I’ll use that.”

Dylan’s eyes lit up further. “Please, Mom, feel free to. Any chance you get.”

The four of us exchanged pleasantries before I dove into the thick of the crowd to find a chair for Dylan to sit on. When I came back with one I’d stolen from a vendor, Kieran was there. He was wearing one of those long, preppy coats, his hair tousled to perfection, chatting with Dylan, holding the small of her back casually to support her posture. She looked up at him, her smile so blindingly bright, my heart was ready to explode, and I realized…

Dylan was truly happy without Tucker.

I didn’t want to see her smile dim when he returned.

Mom and Zeta were deep in conversation, cradling steaming cups of chai. Kieran was holding little cardboard plates with food samples. As soon as I put the chair on the sidewalk for Dylan to sit, he handed one to me. It looked like a human liver. Red and grainy, swimming in its own blood.

“Are you, uhm…in the organ trafficking business?” I quirked an eyebrow.

Kieran smiled, but his eyes were still trained on Dylan’s face as she took her seat. “Beet kofta. Supposed to be really good.”

“Beets, you say? Well, they were my father’s favorite root vegetable.” I shoveled some onto a plastic fork and took a big bite. It was delicious. “Hey, Dylan, remember that time we had beet salad and you peed in the public pool—”

“Cal!” Dylan shot me a murderous look. I stared at her mid-bite, confused. Dylan wasn’t familiar with the notion of shame, not to mention mortification. Yet she was precisely the color of the kofta I was eating, jerking her head toward Kieran with arched brows.

Oh.

Oh.

Kieran looked between us. “Care to finish that story?”

“I…uhm, it’s a gross one.” I smiled, still staring at Dylan.

“Don’t hold back on my account.” He chuckled. “I like a good gory story.”

“I was just reminiscing about that time I ate beets and peed in the community pool.” I twisted my red-tipped hair.

Kieran scrunched his nose. “How old were you?”

“Seventeen.” I raised my eyebrows at Dylan. “Old enough to know better, wouldn’t you think?”

“She was in her staying-a-virgin-forever era.” Dylan turned to Kieran, sighing exasperatedly. “I tried to civilize her best I could. But there’s only so much one woman can do.”

Kieran’s lips twitched, and his blue eyes turned warm and soft. “Cut yourself some slack. Cal’s a lost cause.”

“So happy you are bonding over my shortcomings.” I made a heart sign with my fingers.

“Oh, shush.” Dylan patted my arm, a wide, toothy smile stretched across her face, eyes never wavering from her target. “You’re still atoning for your sins.”

I wondered if Row was going to show up. The restaurant had just reopened the previous day, and he was busy doing press for his London gig and inviting food critics for a last-minute meal at Descartes.

“Oh, by the way, you kind of have to finish your 10K now.” Dylan elbowed my side, back up on her feet. Why wasn’t she sitting down? But I already knew the answer to that question. Kieran. And his smoldering looks. And his big, adoring smiles.

Row was wrong.

Kieran didn’t want me.

He wanted Dylan.

I didn’t know what to make of it. Dylan was pregnant and in a relationship with another man. And Kieran? He was one of the most famed, worshiped men on planet Earth. He was ridiculously photogenic. A filthy rich jock whose life was so private nobody really knew who or what he was. And…hadn’t his last girlfriend been a Victoria’s Secret model? What would a relationship between them even look like?

“You’re running the 10K for Kiddies?” Kieran turned to look at me, finishing his last kofta in one bite.

“Planning to.” I gathered my hair into a messy bun. “It was kind of my dad’s last wish.”

“Mine too.” Dylan raised her hand in the air, like she was in class. “Now that I placed a bet that you would complete it and be one of the first ten to finish, you can’t let me down. There’s nothing I hate more than losing.” She paused to think about it. “Other than a bikini wax. I loathe bikini waxes. No man is worth that kind of pain.”

“Me too,” Kieran volunteered. “It’s the worst.”

“You get waxed down under?” Dylan’s eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets.

He nodded. “Helps with the running. Most soccer players shave, but I’d hate giving my lady friends third-degree carpet burns when we hit the sack just because I’m scared of getting my crotch hair plucked.”

Dylan pressed a hand to her heart. “And they say romance is dead.”

“If it is, I’ll gladly resurrect it.” Kieran flashed a winning smirk.

“Whoa. Hey. Back up now.” I snapped my fingers, waving a hand in Dylan’s face. “Who did you bet with about me? And why?”

If she said Row, I would have such a great excuse to touch him when I punched his face.

“The girls from your high school track team.” Dylan braced the back of her chair to support her weight. My stomach lurched painfully. Of course. She had no idea they were the ones who had broken my ankle. She only knew I hated Allison. “Becky stopped by with some undercover churros the other day. I told her you were in town and doing the run. She bet me a Benjamin you wouldn’t finish.”

I bet you a Benjamin she is the one who has trouble finishing, judging by how bitter she sounds.

“Is she still with Derek Sutter?” He was a douche and a half, who had body-shamed girls and belittled them on the reg while we were in high school.

“Yup.” Dylan nodded. “He’s good friends with Tuck, actually.”

“You don’t say.” My eyes roved the square, hunting for Dylan’s brother. “I’ll complete the run, and you will get your Benjamin.”

“Good. Because they’re all going to be there.”

“They’re running too?” I was about to faint.

“God, no.” She laughed. “They’re doing the baking competition for the charity.”

I bet Allison was going to be all over that event. She was the mayor, after all.

A loud shriek came from my left. I whipped my head to see the source of the laughter, and my heart sank to the pit of my stomach. Speak of the devil.

Allison was enveloped in a luxurious white cashmere coat and a black Gucci belt, sporting an elegant updo with tendrils of scarlet hair framing her face. She was standing next to Row, giggling at something he said.

Row’s face was as blank as a white page. Then again, Row always had the flat, disinterested expression of a man who deemed anyone and anything around him unworthy. Unfortunately, his reluctance to be next to her did nothing to soothe the anger and jealousy swirling inside me. I’d confided in him about Allison. Told him what she had done to me. I didn’t know what outcome I expected. For him to ignore her existence completely was impossible—she was the mayor of this town.

Technically speaking, they had a lot to discuss, what with him being about to sell his land and everything.

And yet.

And yet.

Allison placed a hand on Row’s chest, batting her lashes with a beaming smile. She rose on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear. His stone-cold expression didn’t change. His eyes scanned the square relentlessly.

“My dear, summer child.” Dylan put a hand on my shoulder, her voice sympathetic. “You’re making a rookie mistake. Allison knows you’re staring, and she thrives on drama. Look the other way and pretend you’re having fun. Don’t fall into her trap.”

I ripped my gaze from Row and Allison, refocusing it on the crowd. I tossed the empty kofta plate into a nearby trash can, feeling silly all of a sudden. In my weird hat and cheap coat and… No, you are not allowed to be embarrassed about your mittens. Mamushka made them.

But hell, Allison looked like a movie star, and I looked like…a production assistant who was about to get fired for being an eyesore.

“What they do together is none of my business.” My voice barely quivered.

“Jesus, Cal.” Kieran’s eyes ping-ponged between me and Row. “Don’t tell me you like that prick.”

“That prick is my brother,” Dylan reminded him through pursed lips.

“That’s literally the only positive trait he has going for him,” Kieran informed her with a snarl. “Sharing DNA with you.”

“Don’t be salty because he hates you.” She wagged a finger his way. “You were terrible to him in high school. He told me.”

“I’ve grown up since. He should too.”

“Why does it matter? Not everyone is going to like you.” Dylan flashed him a curious look.

“It matters because there is something of his that I want.” His jaw ticked, and he turned serious. “Badly.”

They stared at each other for a silent beat.

Oh no. They couldn’t fall in love, could they? Not with Dylan about to give birth to someone else’s baby in a few weeks. Disaster clung to the air like a stink bomb waiting to explode.

“I’m going to get us more food!” I announced, not that either of them registered my existence at this point.

I stumbled to the nearest truck and ordered pineapple pizza. If I was in a bad mood, everybody had to suffer with me. Melinda, Pete, Lyle, and Randy were standing by the side of the truck, munching on a deep-dish pizza and talking amongst themselves.

“…will do anything for that man. The woman has no self-respect,” Melinda complained. “He dumped her so fast, I didn’t have time to blink.”

“Allison is a capable woman,” Lyle disagreed. “And I ain’t buyin’ that she wants to get back with that heathen. She is probably going to convince him to give up the idea the old-fashioned way. The woman knows how to work her charm.”

They were talking about Allison and Row. I was going to throw up. I tapped my foot on the cement, waiting for my pizza. My gaze flickered back to Row and Allison. He was now staring at Dylan and Kieran, while Allison continued nuzzling into him, trying to get his attention.

Since when was I jealous? Why did I care? But the answer was clear—I had always cared. He hadn’t been just a crush back when we were kids. He had been…everything. And I had been so scared to admit it to myself after what had happened to me that I’d chalked up my feelings to a harmless crush.

Those wicked lies are going to kill you one day, Calla Litvin.

“Your pizzas, ma’am!” A pimply teenager shoved three paper plates with greasy pizzas on them toward me.

Great. I was a ma’am now. Could this day get any worse?

I mumbled a thank-you, tipped hard to rearrange the universe so my karma wouldn’t suck, and went back to Dylan and Kieran, who were now—thank goodness—discussing the safe topic of jock itch creams.

“I have a prescription for hospital-grade stuff,” Kieran boasted. “Itraconazole. You could run a marathon and chafe your thighs to death and not feel it. You know, if you ever need it.”

“Thanks for the offer, but it’s been weeks since I could reach my thighs,” Dylan grumbled. “Longer for my ankles. The only proof I still have them is that I can walk. If you can call my wobbling walking.”

“Oh. Right.” Kieran pinkened, scratching his jaw. “Well, I can always help out, if you need a…hand.”

Her luscious lips tugged in a sly smile. “My brother would murder you.”

“I can take him.”

My God. Had they just made jock itch romantic? I shoved the pizza plates in their faces, not in the mood to see other people enjoying themselves. “Here ya go.”

“Pineapple?” Kieran frowned. “What the fuck, Cal? Is this a call for help?”

“Dot, why do you look like you’re about to cry?” Dylan dumped her pizza plate on top of Kieran’s as soon as she took one look at me. The playfulness disappeared from her face. “What happened?”

“Nothing.” I let out a pathetic attempt at a laugh, glancing around me. Mom and Zeta moved closer to the barricades surrounding the generator. They had found a few of their bingo friends and were chatting with them. “When is this thing starting? I need to wake up early tomorrow.”

Kieran gave me a blank stare. “It’s six thirty.”

Over his shoulder, Row finally spotted me. Allison was still talking his ear off. He raised a hand and offered me a wave. I looked the other way, clenching my teeth. Childishly, I was mad at him. He was standing with the girl who had helped break my ankle, who had broken me.

An angel and a devil rested on each of my shoulders.

The angel said, You don’t know what they’re discussing. Let him explain.

But the devil said, If someone shows you who they are, believe them.

Kieran turned his head to see what I was looking at, then pierced me with a pointed look. “Still can’t believe you’re into him. He looks like the kind of asshole to kill you, then join the search party.”

“My guess is Row is shitting bricks right now.” Dylan stroked her belly distractedly. “He’s been spending too much time in forced proximity with Cal, so now his self-destruction urge has kicked in and he is trying to push her away by paying attention to Allison. Classic bad-boy mechanism.”

“You’re just trying to make me feel better,” I said.

Dylan let out a small laugh. “I’d never spare you the truth, Dot. I love you. Good friends never blow smoke up your ass.”

Allison grabbed Row’s hand and dragged him toward the center of the square, past the barricades. He followed with all the enthusiasm of a war prisoner. She stopped in front of a microphone and tapped it with an excited grin. It made a loud screeching sound. “Oopsie. Sorry!”

People quieted, watching her and Row with interest. Tears needled my eyes. Jealousy festered inside my body like poison. It was a medical miracle I could still function with the havoc watching them together wreaked inside me.

“Hello, everyone, and thank you so much for gracing us with your presence as we light up the Christmas decorations for the year!” Allison gave a big smile. “Traditionally, mayors in town have always tried to bring a celebrity to help turn on the lights. Most of the time it’s people who have no affiliation to the town and don’t know our customs and traditions. So this year I thought, why not bring our most famous citizen?” She flung her arms to the side, giggling girlishly. “But then Kieran Carmichael politely declined.” She gestured toward our corner.

Everyone whipped around to look at us, laughing at her fantastic joke. Kieran was more famous than Row. Kieran stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Jesus Christ. In fact, the latter was marginally less popular, even in Catholic countries. There was a Brazilian city named after him. Kieran saluted Allison snidely.

“You said no?” Dylan’s brows furrowed. “Why?”

“Wanted to go incognito and not have the paps follow me here. It was one of the things I’d agreed to when Ashburn let me do my physical therapy in Staindrop and take some time off. Too fucking late for that, thanks to Ms. Murray here.”

Oof. It was the first glimpse I’d had of the old Kieran, the one who was mean to people sometimes, and it made me wonder if his good-guy act was all a persona he’d adjusted to, now that he was famous.

“And so I had to settle for this guy.” Allison gestured toward Row like a Price is Right girl. “Which was all right with me, considering I know how to butter him up.” She winked suggestively.

I was going to be sick. Row stared directly at me, his eyes burning with something unreadable. Hopefully acid. That prick.

People chuckled, enjoying Allison’s schtick. I felt as small and meaningless as I had all those years ago when Allison had hurt me.

“Soooo without further ado.” Allison tugged Row closer to the red button. “I present to you Ambrose Casablancas! Chef, celebrity, and reality TV star with a combined twelve Michelin stars, and the holder of the Guinness record for fastest sushi ever rolled.”

Row stepped forward, nodding stiffly at the crowd as I treaded behind Kieran and Dylan. I didn’t want him and Allison to see me cry. They didn’t deserve my tears.

“Well, big man, now’s your time to shine.” Allison draped a hand on Row’s shoulder, leaning into him intimately. “All you have to do is press that button right here. Even though he is a man, let me tell you, he has no problem finding these things.” She winked again.

Laughter rang across the square. I shivered in my coat.

“Ready for the countdown?” Allison flung her arms in the air. They looked perfect together. Perfect. These tall, photogenic people. With their successful careers and superior bone structure. I was mad at myself for telling him what Allison had done to me. For believing him when he’d said he liked me. How stupid could I have been?

“Yes!” the crowd cheered in unison. The first tear rolled out of my eye down my cheek, freezing an inch before it reached my jawline.

“Ten!”

Row’s mouth quirked one way, revealing a dimpled smile.

“Nine!”

I bet he’d run to tell her I’d snitched on her after that night we’d kissed. That Allison had found a way to explain everything to him. Maybe he was taking her side now.

“Eight!”

Another tear ran down my cheek. Kieran and Dylan stepped away from each other, bracketing me on either side, shielding me from view. Dylan rubbed my shoulder, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “Don’t, Dot. You know I’m your no-bullshit friend, and I’m telling you as someone who can see the bigger picture here—there’s nothing between Row and Allison.”

“Seven!”

But even if Dylan was right, tonight proved I couldn’t chance a heartbreak.

“Six!”

“Stop looking so miserable,” Kieran ordered through gritted teeth. “Allison is having a field day watching you.”

“Five!”

Row was staring at us with an intensity that burrowed into my bones.

“Four!”

“Argh.” Kieran ran a hand over his hair. “I hate being a good guy.”

“Three!”

Allison shimmied her shoulders in anticipation, giving me her best Ursula-in-human-form smirk.

“Two!”

“Fuck,” Kieran muttered, bending forward to catch Dylan’s eyes. “Just so you know, the next thing I’m about to do doesn’t mean anything and is solely being done to impress you.”

“One!”

Kieran grabbed me by the waist, tipped me down, cradling the back of my head, and pressed the coldest, driest, most platonic kiss I’d ever been given to my lips. One of my legs tipped in the air, like in the iconic V-J Day nurse and sailor smooch.

My breath caught in my throat. My eyes were wide with horror.

Kieran. Kissed. Me. And I was cold all over. Humming with terror and dread. Scared down to my tiniest bone.

Stop touching me, my mind screamed. Let me go right now.

I noticed the sky was ink-black save for a few lonely clouds. No Christmas lights were turned on. Row had never pressed the red button.

The next thing happened very fast. Kieran grabbed me by the waist and the back of my neck, mumbled shit, and tipped me down so my hair nearly touched the ground. He pressed his lips to mine, and my heart stopped in my chest. Panic clawed through my flesh, and I felt like four invisible walls were closing in on me.

“Motherfucker.”

He is touching me.

This man is touching me.

My mouth fell open, the beginning of a scream making its way up my throat. But before I could yelp for help, Row was pulling me upright to stand on my feet and shoving me into his sister’s arms.

In a flash, Kieran was flushed against the back of a food truck. Blood gushing from his nose. Row had murder in his eyes, and I didn’t know if it was because he knew I was scared of men, he was jealous, or both.

Kieran tipped his head back, chuckling. He didn’t bother wiping his nose, even though his designer coat was marred red. “You’re welcome, asshat.”

“Welcome?” Row seethed, balling Kieran’s shirt, pressing his nose to Kieran’s, pupils dancing in fury. “I’m about to give you your farewell, and you’re telling me I’m welcome?”

“Jesus Christ!” Dylan dumped me on the plastic chair I’d brought for her. She thundered toward the two men, shooing Row away like he was an aggressive duck trying to steal a sandwich. Row retreated, probably because he didn’t want to take any chances with his heavily pregnant sister. She plucked a handkerchief from her purse and pressed it to Kieran’s nose, tipping his head back and brushing his hair away from his face. “I’m so, so sorry. My brother is a world-class idiot and I’m probably going to write a tell-all and throw him under the bus after this.”

“Don’t forget to mention that time he sold weed on school grounds and got suspended for two weeks.” Kieran grinned down at her, towering over my friend, who normally dwarfed all men other than her brother. He clasped a lock of onyx hair that fell across her eyes, rubbed it between his fingers, then slowly curled it around her ear. They both ceased to breathe, and I had to blink to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating the entire thing.

“Not done with your ass by a long shot.” Row pointed at him, his cheeks ablaze. He took advantage of Dylan stepping aside and balled the collar of Kieran’s shirt, bringing him closer. Everybody was staring, inching toward us. This didn’t bode well for Kieran’s quest for privacy. Our pineapple pizzas had been discarded on the ground.

Row raised his finger in warning, his nose almost touching Kieran’s. “Now you listen carefully, pretty boy. If I see your ass—let alone your lips—anywhere near Cal, I—”

“You what?” Kieran snarled in his face cockily. Kieran might know how to play the good-guy role these days, but he still had that villainous spark. “She is just your employee, right?” Kieran tilted his head sideways, popping a toothpick into his mouth. “Running partner, maybe. Any other titles that I’m missing?”

“Let him go right this minute,” Dylan demanded, wiggling a finger at Row. “Or I will strangle you with all the wrath of a woman who has not seen her knees in five months.”

“Ambrose!” Zeta gasped from the depths of the crowd, shouldering the throng as she made her way to us. She pushed through curious bystanders. “What in the world are you doing?”

“Making a headline we both don’t need,” Kieran answered indifferently, staring Row down.

Finally, I snapped out of the weird haze Kieran’s kiss had put me in and stood up, stepping between the two men. I blocked Row’s way to Kieran, giving his chest a push. “Don’t you dare go anywhere near him,” I seethed.

Movies and books had taught me that this was the part where Row would soften, explain himself, calm down. False advertisement. In reality, he stared at me like I had betrayed him. Up close now, I could read his face. The words written across it, in invisible scars.

Pain.

Damage.

Despair.

Distrust.

Distrust.

Distrust.

The edges of his snakeskin eyes turned scarlet, his jawline tensed, and he was panting like a wounded beast.

“Ambie?” Allison purred behind my back, brushing past me as though I were air. To her, I probably was. “Are you coming?”

But he ignored her completely, shoulder-tackling my midriff and hoisting me over his shoulder. “Privacy,” he clipped out shortly, pushing through the crowd as he made his way up the street and toward an alleyway between Dahlia’s Diner and an auto shop. “Showtime’s over.”

“Put me down before I destroy the crown jewels.” I thrust my legs desperately, trying to get to his groin while raining my fists on his back and shoulders.

“That would be on brand. You seem to destroy every other fucking thing in my life.” He put me down carefully, my back pushed against a redbrick building. His mouth was twisted into a scowl. We stared at each other, panting. I wasn’t going to say something first. Not because I didn’t have anything to say—I did, and the words were plentiful—but because I wasn’t sure if I was touched by his concern for my phobias or enraged by his uncalled-for possessiveness. My ancestors had not burned bras on the street so he could treat me like a prize he could knock over the head and drag into his cave for a good time.

“You know, it’s my fault.” He sucked his teeth.

I sighed, relieved. “Finally, we’re on the same page. If you want to remain friends, an apology would be accep—”

“I promised myself I’d never give you the pleasure of making me feel like shit again.” His nostrils flared, his words cutting me like a dagger. “Yet, here I am, doing this song and dance with you again.”

My mouth fell open. “What?”

“I let you in, and you let me down,” he gritted out. “I told you I liked you, and you’re giving me mixed signals. I told you I wanted to take you out, eat you out, and you’re friend-zoning me even though your nipples are harder than stones whenever we’re in the same zip code. I told you how I feel about Kieran, and you went and kissed the crap out of him the first time we are all together.”

“First of all, he kissed me, not vice versa. Second, I told you how I feel about her,” I hissed, my voice pained. I was glad Allison wasn’t around because I wouldn’t be able to speak freely otherwise. Pathetically, I was still scared of her.

“And I listened carefully. Stayed the hell away. If you let me explain—”

“No need to. I have eyes. You guys seemed chummy enough. A picture is worth a thousand words.”

He ran his fingers through his hair, messing it further. “Fuck, I keep making the same mistake, expecting different outcomes.”

He was being so hypocritical. We’d both confided in each other before we’d started hanging out, and we’d both kept a cordial relationship with the people who had hurt the other person. Besides, there was no symmetry between Kieran being a dickhead and Allison trying to kill me. Row was acting like some kind of saint, not a man who’d let his ex—my enemy—dry hump his leg a second ago. “Don’t try to gaslight me. I have eyes, you know. You two came here together—”

“I came here alone.” He sliced through my words. “I was planning to join you and Dylan. I was gonna ask if you wanna grab dinner afterward. At Descartes.”

“As a friend, a worker, or…?”

“As a date.” His cheeks flushed, and he looked ready to murder himself for the confession. He had been going to ask me out? Misery slammed through me. I wished things hadn’t gone so sideways tonight. The idea of doing something so normal and mundane, such as going on a date with a man without being deathly scared, appealed to me.

“Well, you hung out with her.” I prickled, remembering he hadn’t even approached us to say hello.

“I had my reasons.”

“Which were?”

He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter now, does it?”

“If you say so.” I wanted to fight for his words, to explain that Kieran had only kissed me to piss him and Allison off, but the words perished on my tongue. I was too chickenshit to fix the situation. Showing him I cared made me feel raw, panicked. Like I was peeling off my skin right in front of him, giving him a sneak peek at everything that was inside me.

“You had no right to hit Kieran.” The words stumbled out of my throat messily, spilling between us.

“I had every right to hit Kieran.” Row stepped back, turning away from me, about to leave.

“Why?”

“Because I knew you didn’t like it.” He spun on his heel, walking backward but looking at me. “And I am utterly fucking incapable of letting you feel the slightest discomfort without doing something stupid and over the top. And there’s something else.” He was getting farther and farther away from me, and I was feeling the loss of him everywhere. I wanted him back. His warmth. His smirks. His grumpy attitude.

“What’s that?” I whispered.

“You weren’t his to kiss.”