I placed the food on the table and headed into the kitchen. She was getting two plates, and the frown on her face told me she was worrying over the sweet tea thing. I didn’t deserve her time. I wasn’t good enough to get her sweet smiles, but she gave them to me anyway.
“Where’re the teabags at, love?” I asked, walking over to stand behind her.
She tensed up.
I placed my hands on her shoulders and gently squeezed. “I was an ass**le. You scare me, and I didn’t know how to handle it at first, but I’m good now. I won’t run off on you again. I don’t think I can even if I want to. The idea makes me f**king sick to my stomach.” I stopped because I had opened my mouth and was saying all kinds of shit I had no business saying. Regrouping, I finished. “We’re gonna make some sweet tea. And every time I come over here, you better have your sweet tea in the fridge. Not for me, but because you like it. I want you to have the things that make you happy.”
She relaxed under my hands and then she nodded. “It was silly. I should have kept making it,” she said, then turned to slay me with the most sincere, honest, f**king precious smile on the face of the Earth.
There was a tight painful feeling in my chest that was completely unfamiliar, but it hurt like a motherfucker and breathing was difficult.
“I’ll get the tea bags and sugar. You boil the water,” she told me, completely unaware something was happening in my body that was freaking me the hell out.
I managed to nod and move over to the stove. Fumbling, I filled the pot with water. No reason for the clamp on my chest to be there. What was wrong? She had smiled at me. That was it. Sweetest smile I’d ever seen, but still, it was just a smile.
“The other night, that was my first date. Not just with Linc, but my first date ever. I’m not good with guys. I don’t understand them, and sometimes I do things that I shouldn’t and react ways that are ridiculous, and I don’t realize it. So, if I do something dumb or say the wrong thing, just tell me. I promise, I’ll get better.”
I couldn’t turn around and look at her just yet. I knew I needed to because that was the most she had shared with me about her past, but f**k, how could I look at her while I processed this? Fury, confusion, bafflement, and pure icy cold jealousy swamped me at one time.
Her first date? How in the hell was that possible? She was almost twenty years old. Did they keep her locked away in an attic?
I tried hard not to let the fact Linc had been her first at something eat me alive. I wasn’t going to date her. I didn’t date, for starters. I tried that once, and I sucked at it. But I didn’t like sharing her either. She was mine. No, she wasn’t. She was my friend. Boundaries. I needed some boundaries in my head. Blythe was my friend. She made me happy. She was not mine. She never would be because I didn’t want someone to be mine.
“You’re not moving.” Blythe’s voice sounded worried. I was worrying her.
I let out a breath and relaxed my face into what I hoped was a casual expression. Glancing back over my shoulder, I gave her a reassuring smile. “From what I’ve seen, you’re pretty damn near perfect. Don’t apologize. Anything that happened with us before is because I’m f**ked up. Not you, love. Never you.”
I turned back to the pot of water and lit the gas on the stove top. I couldn’t stand there and watch the water boil, so once I was finished, I turned back around to face her. She was wringing her hands and watching me.
Reaching over, I grabbed one of her hands to make her stop. “I meant what I said. When I act like an ass, it’s because I’m all kinds of f**ked up. You are perfect, Blythe. I swear. Stop worrying, and let’s go fix our plates. Those fajitas smell incredible.”
The tension in her shoulders eased. “Okay,” she replied, and started to walk toward the table. The she stopped and glanced back at me. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re f**ked up. I think you’re perfect too.”
So not what I needed to hear her say. She was going to kill me slowly, and I was going to let her because I wasn’t going to be able to stay away from her.
It was time I faced the facts.
I was addicted to Blythe Denton. More addicted than I’d been to anything in my life.
Chapter Ten
BLYTHE
Linc didn’t show up at work on Monday, but he did text me several times. He had to go to Mississippi for his dad for the next few days. He didn’t give me details, and I didn’t ask for any. Something about his text seemed like he was trying to avoid an explanation. Two dates and some doughnuts didn’t make me his girlfriend. I had no reason to expect an explanation.
Krit, however, did show up for dinner that evening with cheeseburgers and fries. We ate at the table like we always did, and he asked about my job and made me laugh with stories about his bandmates. I was always sad when it was time for him to leave, but I didn’t let him know.
* * *
Tuesday at eleven fifteen I pulled up to the Pickle Shack. I was incredibly nervous about eating with Krit’s sister. I had spoken to her for maybe ten minutes at Live Bay. If she started asking questions about Krit and me, I could answer truthfully, but I was afraid my pink cheeks would tell her something else.
The hope that she could be a friend and maybe my first real female friend outweighed all my other fears. I wanted to do this. I just needed to prepare myself for questions about my friendship with Krit.
Walking into the restaurant, I immediately spotted Trisha. Her blond hair and gorgeous face were hard to miss. She waved at me, and I explained to the hostess that I was meeting a friend before walking over there.
“You came,” she said, smiling brightly at me as if she thought I wouldn’t have shown up. I found it hard to believe people ever turned her down. Male or female.
“Yeah, sorry, I’m a bit late. Traffic getting out of the parking lot after class was backed up.”