felt too big and too strange inside of her right now to deal with a Lane Jensen inquisition. “You cannot hold French cheese hostage, Lane. It’s cruel and unusual.”
“You were dragged out of a bar by a man after dancing with Finn. I think if anyone is owed an explanation, it’s me.”
“I’m sorry, I forgot that time you bought front-row season passes to my entire life.”
“You’re being impossible. Most people would just tell their friends what was going on. Actually, the biggest reason I think there’s something going on is that you won’t tell me. Because, if nothing had happened with the guy from the bar, why wouldn’t you tell me what happened?”
Rebecca gritted her teeth. “Fine. Nothing happened with the guy from the bar.”
“Who was it?” Lane pressed.
Her face heated and she knew that she was the color of a ripened raspberry. Finn was standing there, his arms crossed over his broad chest, and Rebecca was ready to kill him for bringing any of this up in the first place. The problem was, he knew exactly what had happened, because he knew why she had been at the bar in the first place.
She was pretty inexperienced when it came to men, but she knew that the two of them had been on the same page. Not that they had wanted each other extravagantly, but that they had at least been willing to take each other on as consolation prizes.
Or, if not specifically a consolation prize on his end then a little bit of casual entertainment. Either way, he knew too much. And she suddenly felt embarrassed, exposed and more than a little humiliated.
“Who was the guy?” Lane repeated.
“I just needed to have a little talk with Gage,” she conceded finally.
“Gage. Gage West? The guy who is offering to sell me this building.” Rebecca could see everything slowly coming together in Lane’s mind, watched as the dots connected and formed to make a picture of horror on her friend’s face. “Who is the guy that caused your accident. And is the guy you’re working for,” she said, her words coming faster and faster as she began to put all the pieces together.
“Yes. That’s him. We just needed to talk about... You know, the details surrounding our agreement.”
“Which is why he grabbed you like a jealous boyfriend?” Finn asked.
“Rebecca,” Lane said, frowning. “Is everything okay? He owns your business, and he’s completely invaded your life, and now I hear that he has dragged you out of a bar like he has some kind of claim on you.”
“Nobody has a claim on me but me. So, you can just stop with that dramatic nonsense right now. There’s nothing... This is nothing...” Suddenly, horrifically, she felt her eyes fill with tears.
She felt like all of the invisible seams from where she had once been stitched back together were beginning to tear open. And that all of her insides, all of her secrets, her fears, her everything, was going to spill out right here in the mercantile, in front of Lane and Finn.
If that happened...she just couldn’t have them knowing. What a mess she was. What a damn freak show beneath all the I’m fines.
“Excuse me,” she said, rushing past Lane and heading into the bathroom, closing the door behind her and locking it. She put her hand over her mouth, trying to stifle the sob that was building inside of her. She was unsuccessful.
She wanted to tell Lane what was happening. And, she never wanted her to know. She never wanted anyone to know. She was ashamed and embarrassed and upset that Lane might have been hurt because Rebecca had been trying to avoid dealing with her own stuff and had brought Finn into the mix.
Finn, who Rebecca should have known was off-limits, regardless of what Lane said. Even if he wasn’t a boyfriend, even if he never would be, it wasn’t right for Rebecca to step in the middle of that relationship. It was too complicated to do something like that. Sure, Finn wasn’t her friend, but it was still idiotic of her.
She plunked down on the closed toilet seat, resting her elbows on her legs, burying her face in her hands. She was just going to go ahead and internally berate herself for everything, even things that weren’t her fault. Even the things that weren’t her responsibility, like Finn and Lane’s whatever-the-hell friendship. Because she felt crappy, and for some reason that compelled her to try and make herself feel crappy