Tequila Rose (Tequila Rose #1) - Willow Winters Page 0,45

all day. The black dress pants and leather belt complete the new look he’s had since he started working at Town Hall.

“It’s my dad,” he starts, flopping down on the sofa. Dead smack in the center of it, which is his spot.

I’ve always had a hard time controlling my expression, mostly because of my rebellious brows. So when they quirk up, the left one arched as if to respond, “Your dad? Seriously?” Robert only laughs and pats the right cushion next to him. My spot. It boasts the still-warm blanket that I cuddle into as I sit beside him. My laptop is open on the coffee table and Robert gets a peek.

“You working on websites now?” he asks.

“Well no, just making notes for the guy who does … we need a lot of plugins added so we can do more with it.”

He hums and nods. I don’t let him off the hook so easily, saying, “It’s just a side project for the gallery. What’s going on with your dad?”

A yawn sneaks out after the words leave my mouth, though. It’s so late.

“I shouldn’t have come,” Robert says with a groan, letting his head fall back. “I’m sorry,” he tells me again and I smack his arm playfully.

“Quit it, and spit it out.”

“He wants me to have a date for the event this weekend.”

My caged heart protests at the word date but I remain silent.

“He wants me to bring someone, like as a guest to it.”

“Okay,” I say, playing dumb, barely responding at all as I lean forward and close the laptop.

“I know we aren’t a thing and he said he told the governor I’d go with his niece who’s in town … looking at colleges,” he adds absently as I let what he’s saying sink in.

“Okay, so what’s the problem?” I ask, playing it cool, ignoring every little emotion that feels like a thousand tiny pinpricks along my skin. I think I might even be sick just thinking about him with some pretty little thing on his arm at whatever fancy event is this weekend. I think it’s a charity for the library opening. This last week has been crazy with work and Bridget and I don’t remember what it was that he told me.

“So I think I … I am going with her …” His statement is uttered haltingly but his baby blue eyes never stop peering into mine. I’m the one who looks away.

“Okay, and you told your dad yes?” I ask him, my heart already breaking in half. We’re only friends, I remind myself. This was bound to happen. We had a good run … the thought lingers on the tip of my tongue.

“I didn’t answer him. I left.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Do you want me to tell him no?” he asks me. Like his life decisions should be in my hands.

“Why would I want that?” I question him back even though my throat feels suddenly so much smaller than it should. Tighter and dry.

“I don’t want you to be upset if I—”

“We’re just friends,” I say, cutting him off and reach forward for my laptop. “It’s totally fine,” I add with as upbeat a tone as possible. “If you really like her, though—”

“I don’t even know her,” he blurts out, interrupting me and he immediately sounds defensive, like it’s a fight. I don’t want to fight with him. I don’t want to lose him. I can’t imagine either of those possibilities right now so I shush him and look him dead in the eye when I tell him, “Seriously, Robert. It’s fine. We’re just friends and I’m not upset.”

“Yeah,” he answers, his gaze falling from mine to the floor, “just friends.”

Present day

It’s taking everything in me not to cry right now. The radio is barely on, but it’s on nonetheless, playing a love song and mocking me as I lean back in the driver’s seat and focus on taking deep breaths. The keys are still in the ignition even though the car is parked in my designated spot for the development.

I didn’t tell my boss, Mandy, that I locked up shop for the day and came right home. I have no idea what she’ll do or say when she finds out but I imagine I can’t confess to her and that she’ll understand. I saw a man who I loved and have been sleeping with for years while on a date with a man who might be the father of my child. I haven’t told either of them so