Blind Spot - Katana Collins Page 0,95
God, how I wanted to deck that guy right in his pretty-boy face. He wore khakis, for Christ’s sake. Khakis. What was Shelby doing with a khaki-wearing goody two-shoes?
“Ready to go?” he asked, and she looked up at him with a warm smile, the same smile that used to be reserved for me. Damn, did that hurt.
“Yeah,” she said quietly.
“I’ll walk out with y’all,” I said without thinking.
The two exchanged looks, but I didn’t let either of them say no. Instead, I grabbed my shit and hauled ass to catch them before they left. As we walked into the parking lot, I searched for Shelby’s car…only it was nowhere. Oh God. Please don’t tell me she’s going to his place.
“Oh, shoot.” Ryan snapped, turning back for the front door. “I forgot my phone.” He rushed back inside, leaving Shelby and me awkwardly rocking onto our heels in the parking lot.
“Where’s your car?” I blurted out.
Shelby sighed, eyes tilting to the cresting moon. The bluish hue cast a spotlight on her face. “It broke down. Again,” she said quietly.
“Why didn’t you tell me? I could have given you a ride—”
“I didn’t need a ride. Ryan’s helping me out.”
“Shelby…we live in the same building. No matter how close or on the way Ryan is, I can guarantee it’s even less of a hassle for me. Besides, we could use the time to talk—”
“We have nothing to talk about,” she cut in, but still didn’t look at me. I wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or not.
“Please.” I debated taking her hand. But even as her scowl softened, I knew that was probably a bad idea.
“You were right to end things,” she said quietly, finally turning her head to me. Her mouth turned down at the corners in the tiniest little frown that I wanted to kiss back into a smile. “We’re too different. We’d never work.”
I gulped, shaking my head. My heart shattered. Harrison had warned me. But I wasn’t convinced. She wanted to believe that, yes—but she didn’t entirely. Not yet. And I had to prove to her that she was wrong. “Je parie que je peux te faire changer d’avis.”
“No, you can’t change my mind,” she answered.
My eyes widened, and I stared at her, my face splitting into a grin. “You didn’t even miss a beat, Shelby.”
Her own smile twitched, and I swore there was a tear in her eye. “I had a great tutor.”
I sighed. “So, when do you pick up your car?”
That hint of a smile vanished, and she fiddled with her messenger bag. “I’m not. There’s a buyer interested in it, and I need the money to buy something more reliable.” She shrugged as if this were some sort of nothing piece of news.
“You can’t sell that car, Shelb. Come on…”
“Come on, what? I have no choice. I can’t afford to keep fixing it up.” Her voice broke, and she shook her head. “It’s not up for debate. It’s not a practical car for me.”
The door behind us swung open, and Ryan came bumbling out. He was like a cartoon, some sort of gangly character that belonged on Schoolhouse Rock, not on Shelby’s arm. “Ready to go?” He grinned like an idiot, holding out an elbow for her to take. Which she did, slowly killing pieces of my soul each time they touched.
She nodded. “Yeah.”
“Want to get a milkshake first?” he asked, seemingly forgetting that I was beside them at all.
“Sure,” Shelby whispered. “Why not?”
I don’t know how long I stood there watching them through the window of the diner. Watching them drinking milkshakes. Eating fries. Talking and laughing. It ripped me apart.
But at least she was smiling.
Chapter Thirty-Four
SHELBY
Sophia’s concert was your typical grade-school recital—and she was adorable. Her eyes scanned the audience, and during her solo, she waved. At first I thought it was at me, but when I turned around, two rows back from me was Tate, a big bouquet of flowers in his lap.
Damn him. Damn him for orchestrating my being here. And damn him for being sweet and perfect to this little girl who needed a strong, male figure in her life more than anything.
My throat closed, and I promised myself I would not cry. I snuck a sideways glance at Ryan. Sweet Ryan. When he asked me on this date, I’d been so taken aback that I’d said yes. I should have liked him. He was handsome, respectful, and sweet. We both came from hard-working parents. He knew my past.