can. He’s hurt me and seeing Bennett just reminds me of that.
He keeps up, his arm occasionally brushing against mine as we walk together. A couple of guys pass us and call out, “Good game!” and we keep going. We even keep moving when a group of girls shout, “Z!” and waggle their fingers at him while giving me the evil eye.
“Are you going to speak to me?” he finally asks.
I speed up.
“The gardenias? What happened? Talk to me.”
Annoyance boils inside me, but still my lips are clamped shut. Taylor and Poppy are ahead of me, coming my way, and there’s a questioning look in their wide eyes as we pass each other, their gazes bouncing from me to Z. I shake my head at them to not interrupt. I want to have this fight with him, even if I am a silent participant.
We walk a few more paces and he says, “I really can’t read minds, you know.”
My anger rises to the surface, and that’s it. I come to a full stop, not even caring that people are having to move around us. “I’m just so happy to learn I’m not anyone special to you.”
Understanding dawns in his eyes and his lips compress, a hard look growing on his face. “Someone told you something.”
I laugh. “Yes, and it was so nice to discover my gift is one you send to every girl you date—when it’s over.”
His mouth flattens. “Veronica. She’s the only one who would care enough to be mean.”
“So it’s true?”
He frowns, looking discomfited. “Yes, I sometimes send girls roses, but not gardenias, and not when it’s over. I send them whenever I want. Whatever she told you, I’m sure she twisted it to fit her agenda. She’s wanted me for a long time, and I…” He pauses. “But I’ve never in my life gone to a flower shop and picked out exactly the flower that fit a girl, that smell like her.”
He exhales and pinches the bridge of his nose.
Okay, okay, that makes sense, and Veronica does have her own agenda. Even I can see that.
But…
“You haven’t even texted me since we were together…” I stop, my hands clenching.
Don’t be needy, Sugar.
His gaze searches mine. “I know. That night was so… I don’t have words.” He grimaces and looks down at the ground before coming back up to meet my eyes. “I had a game on Saturday, and I just thought maybe I needed some space, you know, a clear head so I could play my best. ”
Well.
Space?
And here I was, thinking about our night and even though I hadn’t really admitted to myself yet, part of me was willing to…I don’t know…see what was going on with us. So stupid. I take off walking again. “Fine. Take some time and process it. I’m done with your bullshit.”
He follows along beside me and several people walk by, staring at us. Even though I’m not looking at him, I feel his unease. It’s in the way he sighs and keeps looking over at me. Whatever.
He keeps up with me, and dammit, he smells so good.
“Look, I was jealous of your daisies, and I wanted to give you something that was more you …” Out of the corner of my eye, I watch as his chest heaves and he stops talking.
I turn. “I don’t even care about that now. Also, I don’t need you to pretend to be my boyfriend anymore.”
His jaw pops. “What about the dean you want to impress?”
“I’ll figure something else out.”
His face shutters, and he looks off, as if what I’m saying isn’t what he wanted to hear. He swallows and looks up at the sky, as if looking for answers.
“Are you upset, Z?”
I need something from him.
He rubs a hand through his hair and his brow pulls down. “Who said I was ever pretending anyway? Go out with me—just me. Not for law school.” His hand reaches out to me but then drops. “Can’t you just give it a shot?”
There’s something in the way he looks at me, hope mixed with fear, as if he’s hanging on a thread, waiting for me to respond.
I shake my head. “You’ve never had to work hard for a girl, have you?”
“No.”
“You just send flowers and everything’s okay. You don’t call and everything just goes back to normal and they jump right back in with you.”
He chews on that bottom lip. “Usually.”
“I’m not that girl.”
“I know.”
“I don’t have sex like that and not expect you to call me.