I interjected. “Are you sure? I could?—”
“I’m positive. Teddy doesn’t mind.” Fancy was right. Ted’s smile grew three times bigger. Willa and I watched as they walked away.
“I’m not ready for a relationship. Those were your words. I guess the part about not wanting one with me was just silent.”
“Can you keep your voice down?” I didn’t like drama and rumors spread like wildfire in Hume.
“No, I will not. You picked Fancy over me?” She was shouting, and sweat was dotting my forehead.
“You’re acting like this was some kind of competition. What happened between you and me has nothing to do with Fancy.”
“Bullshit,” Willa yelled. We were outside, but I really needed her to use her inside voice right now. “She comes to town and then you break up with me. How convenient.”
“We were never a couple. And you seemed to have rebounded nicely with Teddy.”
Willa pointed her finger in my face. “You’re an asshole.”
“I never … not once … lied to you about where we stood.”
Willa moved closer so only I could hear. “No, you just fucked me until my knees were weak and held me while I fell asleep.”
I’d already had two beers, so my filter was slipping. “Do you want me to apologize for making you come?”
Willa planted her hands on her hips. “Lose my number. Because when Fancy heads back to Hollywood, I don’t want you even thinking about calling me.”
“I respect that.”
Willa’s eyes grew misty. “How can you act like you never cared?”
“I did care, I really did. Just not as much as you.” I didn’t do well with endings, whether it was initiated by others or myself. And oftentimes to protect myself I could come off as cold, but I ended things with Willa for this exact reason. I didn’t want to see her get hurt.
Willa shoulder checked me before walking away, sparing me from the tears threatening to fall from her eyes. All I could muster was a stuck on stupid stare silently analyzing our conversation and all the ways I could have communicated better. But in my defense, accosting me in public wasn’t going to foster an honest discussion. I just wanted the yelling to cease and for passersby to stop staring and whispering.
Fancy came bounding back over, lemonade in hand. “How did it go?”
“Horribly. She’s mad at me.”
“Oh no, someone in Hume doesn’t see you as the perfect gentleman.” Fancy chuckled.
I flashed a hard, irritated expression. “No, I’m serious, she called me an asshole.” I reached for Fancy’s arm, turning her to face me. “Am I an asshole?”
“Probably.”
My shoulders rounded into a heap.
Fancy cupped my face. “Edison, romantic relationships are complicated. And most men suck at it. Don’t beat yourself up. No one is perfect. If I had a dollar for every heart I’d broken, I’d have forty-two dollars. You know what will make you feel better?”
“What?”
“A turkey leg.”
“I mean it’s kind of difficult to be upset when you’re holding a medieval-sized turkey leg.”
“That’s the spirit. We can pretend to be pirates enjoying our smoked serving of meat.”
We walked laps around MetCalf Park enjoying our food and people watching. In truth, people were watching us more than anything else. We couldn’t walk but a few feet and someone new would come up to Fancy gushing about her music, asking her to sign their shirt, ball cap or take a picture. Picture taking usually fell to me and I was happy to do it. She deserved all the admiration and earnest words of affirmation.
Whiskey Wild was world famous, and this type of fan adoration wasn’t just reserved to Hume. It made me wonder what the duo was going to do now. Dancing around and singing duets with someone who’d betrayed my trust would be a non-starter for me. Hard truth, the amounts of money Fancy and Darla were making wasn’t easy to turn down. I wouldn’t fault her if she decided to stay with the group. But how do you move past it?
