Scarlett looked at me with pity. “Oh, Anton, you didn’t actually think I liked you for real, did you?”
That’s exactly what I thought.
“My friends just bet me I couldn’t get you to kiss me by tonight, but I won. See you.”
She skipped off to join her friends, leaving me standing there feeling all of two feet tall.
A means to an end.
Not unlike how I feel now. I’ve been used and tossed aside by someone I trusted. Again.
Rose meets my eyes, and the avalanche of emotion is gone, replaced by a gray hue to her blue tint.
Something inside me locks shut tight. “I don’t ever want to see you again.”
It’s a cliché if I’ve ever heard one, but I don’t care. I turn away from her and walk toward the beach.
If I hear what sounds like a whimper of anguish, I’m sure it was the wind, mocking me. I don’t turn around. I don’t look back.
22
Gameday Best
Rose - Now
Ilove the way the morning light filters in through The Downer’s front windows. I sit with my legs curled up on the green, crushed velvet couch Poppy and I splurged on when we moved to Cashmere Cove and sip my coffee, shifting so the winter sunlight hits me smack across the face. It’s not much, but it’s something, and my Vitamin D stores are sorely depleted, so I’ll take it.
I don’t often have quiet, slow mornings like this. I’m either at the bookstore early or doing something for my other job. I hit up church last night because I knew I needed to work this morning ahead of the game. I went over the dossier my dad and the team sent me about Duke. I’ll see him again today, and I need to be prepared. I am prepared. Except, Anton’s case is…different.
I don’t understand why he’s being nice. I don’t deserve it. It’s making it way harder to do my job. It’s making it nearly impossible not to fall madly in love with him.
My mind keeps leaping back in time and replaying the night I broke up with him in Mobile. I’d gotten a call from my dad saying my services with Anton were no longer needed. I was being sent immediately overseas for a job serving as the personal assistant slash security for a dignitary from Sweden. In the blink of an ill-timed phone call, I went from looking forward to one of our regular Monday night walks around town to being required to break up with a man I had real and true feelings for. I could have put it off, but it would have only made it worse, so I handled it then and there. I shut my emotions down and told him the only thing I knew would keep him from trying to win me back.I pretended like I used him. I was cruel and cold, and I’ve hated myself for it ever since.
I stand and start pacing the worn, wood floors of The Downer. It’s quiet living alone, but I kind of love it. Poppy and Mack are right next door, in their half of the duplex, and I physically pinch my eyes closed and sing a mentalla la la lato stop myself from thinking about how two newlyweds likely wake up on a Sunday morning. But it’s nice having them nearby. Noli, too, is just across town with Collin. I love Cashmere Cove.
It’s going to be hard to leave it all behind. But if all goes as planned, I’ll have a one-way ticket to Europe with my name on it in the New Year. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted. But this morning, looking around The Downer, seeing the way the December sun hits the dust particles in the air and lights them up as if they’re interior snowflakes, the thought of leaving makes me melancholy.
When I glance out the sidelight of the front door, I do a double-take. There’s a long, brown-wrapped package laying on the porch. I’m not expecting anything, so I’m instantly suspicious.
I open the front door slowly, sucking in a breath as the chill of the morning air invades my cocoon of warmth. I glance left and right. No one is around. I nudge the box with my toe and then roll my eyes at myself.
Real high-quality investigative work there, Rose.
What do I think, it’s going to jump to life?
My name is written on the brown wrapping in black Sharpie marker. I narrow my gaze because I’d recognize that handwriting anywhere. What is Anton doing dropping off a gift here? How does he know where I live?
I bend and grab the package, pulling it inside and slamming the door against the chill.
I cross to the kitchen and set the box on the counter, going to the junk drawer for a pair of scissors.
“Hey!”
The sound of a voice behind me has me screaming and whirling around, wielding the scissors as if it’s a javelin I can use to pierce the intruder.
“Poppy!” I work to get my breath back under control as my big sister walks into my living room. “What the heck? Ever heard of knocking?”
She shrugs, tucking her hands into the pockets of her fleece robe. She’s wearing matching slippers too. “Since when do we knock?”
