want me… and then you tell me I’m off the hook and I shouldn't follow you. What am I supposed to do?”
This is not how I wanted this conversation to go.
“I don’t know!” She sounds just as confused as I’m feeling, which does little to calm me. “I… I looked for you,” she stutters. “But the studio was empty and so was your apartment. I even went to the Pink Pony, but Floyd said you had the week off. And I couldn’t fucking remember your goddamn phone number!” She’s yelling at this point and I don’t know what to do or say, so we sit in silence, both of us breathing heavy from frustration.
“I know I shouldn’t be angry,” she finally says, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “But I can’t help it.” Her words break on that last note and I feel it all the way down to my toes—hurt.
I rub my free hand up and down my face, willing myself to calm down before I speak again. “What do you want, Tempest?”
She doesn’t say anything for what feels like ages and I know this is a struggle for her. She wants to speak her mind, but she’s afraid to do so. I loved helping her before, back when our relationship wasn’t so damn complicated, but I’m not bailing her out this time. She can say exactly what she wants to say to me or she can hang up. If she wants to be on her own, then that’s what she’ll get from me.
I’m done playing games.
Finally, she finds her voice. “I want to apologize,” she begins, sounding more certain than a few seconds ago. “I need you to know I’m sorry for all the awful things I said to you. I was just angry and hurt… and so confused.” She pauses, taking a deep breath. “I want us to be friends again. Actually, I want us to be more than that but, if you don’t want that anymore, can we at least go back to being friends? I miss you and I need you in my life, Cage.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Why did she have to call and tell me these things? Why couldn’t she wait until we were face to face again? I don’t want to have this conversation here, like this. Going against every instinct in my body—fighting the part of me that wants to hop in my car and not stop until my feet are on Tennessee soil—I reply, “I can’t talk about this right now, Tempest.” Pausing while I swallow down the bile that’s in my throat, practically choking on my own words, I manage to say, “I’ll call you when I get back to Green Valley.”
And I hang up.
Chapter 31
Tempest
“I Fall to Pieces?” Jenn asks, walking into the kitchen with the Muffin of the Day message board in her hand. “I thought we were past this.”
Sighing, I let my head drop. “I’m sorry,” I groan. “I can’t help the way I feel, though. And you know my muffins are always inspired by what’s happening in my life. It’s not my fault that I’m in a constant state of turmoil these days.”
Jenn just looks at me—one hand holding the board, one hand on her hip. “This is the last day,” she huffs. “Do you hear me? Tomorrow, there better be some happiness on this board, so help me…”
“Tomorrow,” I tell her, wiping my hands on my apron and walking around the counter. “I promise. I’ll think of something and it will be sunshine and fucking rainbows.”
Her pointed stare burns through me. “It better. This is Donner Bakery—Home of the Banana Cake Queen. People come here expecting to leave feeling good. Carbs… sugar… happiness. If you keep this up, we’re going to have to get our liquor license and I just don’t have time for one more thing on my plate.”
Releasing a breath as she walks out, I press a hand to my forehead.
“Get it together, Tempest… you’re better than this… stronger.”
After a brief self-help talk, I decide to make myself useful while the muffins are baking and take out the trash. We might be royalty around here, but that doesn’t excuse us from menial tasks.
Dumping my bowl, I keep on the counter for all the baking refuse—egg shells, empty wrappers from chocolate, banana peelings, etc.—I tie the bag up and make my way to the back door. It’s still dark outside, not even six o’clock in the morning, but I feel like it’s midday. Ever