She frowns. “Why?”
I motion toward the restaurant. “You have a date. If it goes well, you might be… indisposed in the morning.”
Her eyes flash. “I’m not sleeping with him.”
I bite back the sharp retort threatening to slip out. Instead, I level her with a look. “I didn’t say you were. I just don’t want to tell Tate you’ll be there if you won’t be.”
Her jaw tightens. “I’ll meet you at the house at 7:30.”
I nod once. “See you then.”
I start to step around her, but her hand presses against my chest, stopping me.
“Jules.” It’s not a question. Not a statement. Justher name, hanging between us.
“It’s not fair,” she says softly.
I glance down at her. “What’s not—”
“You’re not making this easy on me,” she interrupts. “I… I’m trying to figure out what I…” She trails off, her lips parting like she’s searching for the right words.
My chest tightens.She’s trying to figure out what she wants. But I remember ten years of us. Every fight. Every kiss. Every whispered promise that neither of us kept.
I exhale, my hands finding her waist, tugging her closer. She doesn’t resist.
I press a kiss to her forehead, lingering for just a second longer than I should. “Maybe you do know what you want,”I murmur, my lips brushing against her skin. “But you’re too afraid to admit it to yourself.”
Her breath catches. I could close the space between us. Could kiss her the way I want to. Could remind her of everything she’s trying to forget.
But I don’t.
I step back, walk around to the driver’s side door, open it, and slide inside.
Because if I’m ever going to fight for her—if I’m ever going to convince her to let me back in—she has to decide if she’s ready to face the truth.
And I’m not sure she is. Not yet.
Chapter Nine
Jules
“How’d it go last night?” Sarge waggles his eyebrows as I pour myself the biggest cup of coffee humanly possible. I just got back from dropping Tate, whose bruise has almost faded completely, off with Corbin. Disaster. I don’t think Corbin looked at me once. Barely even said goodbye when I got out of his car and headed toward my own.
“Pick a place that’s familiar,” I mock, my voice dripping with irritation. “It’ll be fun.”
Sarge squints, confused. “Uh… yeah?”
I set my coffee down with a little too much force. “Corbin and Tate showed up to grab their pizza order. And Trey invited them to sit with us.”
Sarge blinks. Then bursts out laughing.Hard.
“You’re kidding,” he wheezes. “Seriously?”
I glare. “You didn’t tell me your friend was a glutton for punishment.”
“I didn’t say pick a place Corbinfrequents, Jules,” he counters, still grinning. “I said pick somewhereyoufeel comfortable.”
“Idofeel comfortable there,” I snap, way too defensively.
